Jofus and the Whale

Lily Fish is a mime, a clown, a bit of a contortionist, a bit of a dancer and a creator of objects, spaces, and beings both animal and human using only her hands, mobile face and India rubber body.  There are also squawks, barks and a weird strangled but ingratiating voice that provides a break-the-fourth-wall running commentary. 

The last time we saw her prize-winning creation Jofus – a red-nose clown figure in a kind of frock coat, beret and long legs in tights and stripey socks, her only prop was a plank.  The story was an action/adventure involving surprise visits and a dizzying fall from a high-rise building. 

This time, working with collaborators director Kimberly Twiner and Ell Sachs, we have a sort of a riff on Melville’s Moby Dick - but a tangential, boundaries-bursting epic, a gargantuan encounter with, yes, a whale but also other creatures.  There are no props, the stage is bare.  The only addition – and it’s marvellous – is Lisa Mibus’s lighting – which can summon up a spotlight, sunlight or being in the depths of the sea, but also often gets laughs in itself, especially when Jofus mimes speaking to the ‘bio-box’ and asks for a change .

At the start, Jofus stumbles on stage, thrilled, amazed and bashful that there’s an audience at all, but soon launches into the tale, spinning on it, adding to it, departing from it but always returning to the twists and turns of the narrative.  With each new manifestation of place, creature or character, there are sometimes a moment before the audience catches up, but then there’s recognition, laughter, delight and applause.  And Jofus acknowledges the audience member who gets there first.

Jofus’s creation, using only fingers, of a tiny human as yet unaware of the huge leviathan beneath is vivid – and for a moment creates a sense of dread.  When the whale breaches, dwarfing the narrator, we see the whale’s massive bulk almost entirely from Jofus’s expression and the movement of her eyes.  There is an homage (or is it satire?) to Marcel Marceau when Jofus is inside the whale, complete with squelchy sound effects – and capped by the comment to the audience that she’ll ‘mime her way out’.  Melville’s Captain Ahab as written isn’t quite enough; Jofus gives him one eye as well as one leg, a growly voice and a hook (à la Peter Pan) for good measure.  Various sea creatures swim by as prey or mere observers.  Then there is a dog called Samantha and the finale involving dog and Ahab’s leg is a cracker.

For all its brilliance, however, Jofus and the Whale does divert and meander occasionally, breaking the sort of coherence and narrative flow we saw in Jofus and the Plank.  At times, unfortunately, the ‘funny voice’ does become gabble.  And I would question the energy that goes into the dazzling dance spins that are the transitions between characters; surely Ms Fish is so precise and clear in her mime skills that many of these transitions are unnecessary?

Those reservations aside, Jofus and the Whale is charming, diverting and admirable.  After the long hiatus of connection between audience and performer, this show, in the small space at the La Mama Courthouse, brings back that connection with intimacy, warmth, complicity and collaboration as we hang on the super talented Lily Fish’s every move and sound.

Michael Brindley

Photographer: Darren Gill