Get Happy: a relatively easy piece of advice to follow when you have, says our protagonist Adam, the following three things:
- a house
- employment
- love.
On the surface, Adam is just fine. He has a new lease of life after his best friend and roommate Ryan gets engaged and moves out – he is finally free! He can live by himself, swipe endlessly on Tinder, temp at a healthcare agency with women lusting over his queerness, and he can really, truly, get happy.
The second that the lights dimmed, and the spotlight illuminated Joseph Aldous and his bright blue shorts, I was utterly enamoured by him and his talent. He has a charisma that comes so naturally both on and off the stage, and an indescribable energy that fills the room – it is animated, passionate, and must be seen to be understood. Joseph’s upbeat energy, laugh-out-loud prompts and general silliness made for a unique connection with the audience that felt as though we were watching a close friend perform. Not only did I come away feeling energised, but I also felt oddly proud of Joseph; an emotion rarely stirred when I’m watching plays, demonstrating the talented actor’s ability to connect with his audience at a personal level.
The first half of this play had me laughing and smiling non-stop. I believed this to be a play written and performed by a talented and charismatic queer man, about a charismatic and talented queer man. I quickly realised that there is more to Adam’s story than meets the eye, one with a depth and substance that is perhaps overlooked initially.
What begins as a very amusing journey of self-discovery and fulfilment, frequenting bars in Soho with his friends and talking to his robot babe Alexa, soon turns into something far more sinister. Adam’s behaviour grows increasingly unstable, his optimistic outlook turns to angst, and his grief is unmasked; the heart of the play unveiled.
Get Happy is a triumphant debut from Joseph Aldous. The writing is brilliant, and the execution is stunning. It works as an incredibly strong one-man show – though the hilarious imitations of the Scottish HR woman at work, a string of incompatible dates, and posh girl Felicity might beg to differ.
The incorporation of Alexa as akin to a living being was incredibly well done. It reminded me a little of a Black Mirror episode, with Alexa acting as a guardian angel/therapist/navigator of grief to Adam, analysing what it is he needs to get happy.
If I may, let me plead with you: go and watch this play. Get on the Northern line to the Omnibus Theatre in Clapham and support an exceptional debut performance which has it all – laughter, friendship, untrammelled queerness and self-reflection, all underpinned by the heaviest emotion of them all: grief. It is a stellar performance and production and one not to be missed. Bravo, Joseph Aldous.
Listings and ticket information can be found here
