A wonderful performance can’t quite cover up a disjointed script, leaving the show a collection of parts rather than a whole. Rating
Good
Celestine is clearly going through changes in her life; she has split up with her boyfriend and re-entered the dating scene, her job is a grind, and her nan is gravely ill. It’s no surprise then that everything is beginning to get on top of her, causing anguish and stress. So much so that she is starting to hear a rather odd voice in her head, and behaving rather strangely, regressing to her childhood fantasy that she is a leopard. But life goes on and sometimes we just have to muddle through, one way or another.
The whole concept of regressing to that childhood state and her desire to return to being the leopard she dreamed of as a child holds plenty of scope, certainly enough to grab attention. And scenes where writer and performer Capucine Earle play on these ideas are the ones that really shine and fulfil the promise offered by the novel concept. Unfortunately, elsewhere the show seems to get lost under the weight of ideas and thoughts that Earle seems to want to squeeze into it all, leaving the whole as a bit of a mixed bag of ideas; from bad dates and annoying coffee shop customers to fantasies and desires.
Earle’s performance suggests she does have plenty to offer. Her comic timing is impeccable, as is her physical comedy laced with elements of clowning. She is often prowling around the stage in her leopard persona, peering out from behind the sofa at just the right moment or finding even more things to pull from her shorts. It’s these moments that help lift the show. Director Katherine Lyle, along with movement director Andrew Friedman (who also contributes that odd voice in her head), really work Earle hard to pull out every physical aspect of her performance.
There’s also lots of fun in other aspects of the show; Earle’s costume is very much as you would expect for a show where she imagines herself a leopard, but has some surprising layers to it, including those shorts that seem to be never ending in what they will hold. Then there is a set with a rather clever backdrop that allows her to move through it and engage in some well-considered shadow play that is visually pleasing, both when it’s used for comedy and for more thoughtful moments.
But as good as the performer is, as good as all the components that go into the show may be, it’s let down by the writing. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just too fragmented, the whole struggling to find the right way to bind all the separate parts together. All too often it feels as if scenes have been thrown together to show off Earle’s performing skills, with less consideration given to how each contributes to the whole. It also needs better balance to avoid scenes dragging on for longer than they need to. Then there are the knowing nods to show she recognises there is an audience watching – something that just muddies things that bit further and leaves the show struggling to really know what it wants to be. And if the show doesn’t quite know, how can an audience?
Petit Léopard really does have a great deal of promise and maybe it can fulfil that with some careful consideration of how to tighten up a script that is currently way too loose. Earle is an absolutely fun performer to watch and with some better focus, her show could match her abilities.
Written by Capucine Earle
Co-directed by Katherine Lyle & Andrew Friedman
Visuals by Claire Adams and Andrew Friedman
Produced by CKC Productions
Petit Léopard has completed its current run.
