Review: The Liminoid, The Cockpit

For the second time on the same evening, I left a show with the same question in my head: “What the hell was that?”. But unlike the first time, this question was one not of disappointment, but of utter bewilderment in a positive way. Because Jelly Legs’ The Liminoid is a show that is simply impossible to pin down as to quite what it is! Which might explain the title, there’s a seriously deep rabbit hole to be explored about what Liminoid means, but there’s plenty of mention of change, identity, time and community, all aspects this show has in bucketloads.

It all begins even before we’ve taken our seats. The eight performers are milling around, warming up (or maybe limbering up) to get ready to perform. There’s a sense of playfulness, of a cast clearly relishing the hour to come. Their energy and happiness quickly disseminates into the audience, instantly bringing us on board and open to anything. Which is lucky, because when it starts for real, we are greeted with a series of random scenes, sketch-show-like, but all united by ideas of togetherness, mutual support and respect for one another, and reclaiming that joy and simplicity of childhood.

Yet for all its randomness, an early declaration that “We all need to get to know each other again” feels vital, the need to learn about one another and simply enjoy the moment. It reminds us of the simplicity of childhood when you could meet someone down the park and be best friends before you went home for tea. When each of the eight strong cast introduces themselves and announces their pronouns, it’s certainly a starting point in getting to know each other. What follows is at times (OK, nearly all of the time) utterly bizarre, often downright silly and yet also profoundly moving. But above all else, it is incredibly fun. Oh, and full of toast, ghosts and frogs. Why? Who knows, but who cares when the whole is just so full of joy.

Of course, this sketch show style means some moments work better than others, but it’s never dull. The toaster Olympics is just bonkers and the right mix between scripted and ad-libbed, whilst the techno-rave dancing frogs make me wonder if I’ve accidentally overdosed on my medications and those damn hallucinations are back! Elsewhere the ghosts bringing the chairs on stage may only be for a scene change but it’s also almost a scene stealer, the cheers as they return at the end of the scene suggests they need their own bigger moment in the spotlight.

But for all its zaniness, surrealism and feeling that at any moment it could all go terribly wrong, you also feel safe that there is actually someone holding it all together, that someone being director Jess Mabel Jones, who does wonders in ensuring it is organised chaos. And for all its randomness, there remains that sense of collaboration, a feeling that each performer has brought their own uniqueness to it. And that’s maybe what its ultimate message is, that we are all different, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get along

The Liminoid is a show that could (and likely will) alter each and every performance. Scenes will alter or completely change over time, cast will come and go, new members will bring their own uniqueness to it all, but its core will remain. It binds us together for an hour, letting us return to a place of joy and togetherness. It’s utterly bizarre, it’s impossible to describe, but it’s an experience that cannot fail to leave you feeling like a very satisfied frog. 

Performed by Rox Kielty, Kenya Sterling, Luke Sumner, Eva McNeill, Georgia Polly-Taylor, Annabella Lu, Miona Drcelic, AJ Stubberfield
Devised by the Cast & Crew
Directed by Jess Mabel Jones
Lighting Design by Dan Maxted & Lilli Fisher
Movement Direction by Georgia Polly-Taylor
Co-produced by Tuft Arts, Charlotte Tingley & Jelly Legs

The Liminoid has completed its current run.