Like The Mighty Boosh in a minor key,
What does emerge from the many layers of this weirdly hilarious or hilariously weird set is the chemistry that Coonan and Doubleday have with each other.
What does emerge from the many layers of this weirdly hilarious or hilariously weird set is the chemistry that Coonan and Doubleday have with each other. They are in tune to a melody that most of us have never heard. Equally their timing can’t be described as impeccable because it is so entirely offbeat. But the odd rhythms they develop, which eschew general joke structure, become surprisingly seductive. The best analogy I can think of is experimental jazz; you might think you won’t like it but before you know it you’ll find your toe tapping away.
The low production values, at first off-putting, become part of the charm. Coonan and Doubleday play it so straight that I and the rest of the audience were simply won over. For instance, they blow a single bubble over the audience’s head to represent the first molecule that formed after the Big Bang. The sight is strangely moving; both the bubble itself - now charged with the symbolism of creation - and the fact that an entire audience is staring at it with childlike innocent eyes. It is a testament to just how much the duo had earned the audience’s trust that it was possible to perform an audience interaction bit entirely in gibberish with the audience as enthusiastic about it as the pair themselves.
The show flies off in unexpected directions with the excitement of a bluebottle drunk on Lucozade and it takes the audience along for the ride. Weird and warm, Dead Ghost Star is an easily missed gem.
