According to the pre-show publicity, Love, Loss and Quarantine is a follow-up to the jazz trio, The Swells’ sell-out Edinburgh show last year, ‘Love, Loss and Cake’ which used a combination of music and narrative to tell of singer, Malcolm Windsor and pianist Jeremy Devlin-Thorp’s experience of bereavement after they both lost their partners in recent years. Having not seen the earlier show, I cannot be sure how this format came across on the stage, but I would hazard a guess that it was more suited to that medium than its successor appears to be to the screen.
The jaunty opening notes coupled with the fact that The Swells had been a hit at the Edinburgh Fringe gave the impression that this performance was going to have a slightly quirky comic edge, possibly in the style of Hinge and Bracket. The spoof easy listening band Raw Sex made infamous by French and Saunders comes to mind.
Instead, what followed was Malcolm talking rather ponderously and somewhat self-indulgently, straight to camera. He speaks of his and Jeremy’s good fortune to have found new partners after loss and the minor frustrations of navigating a new relationship during lockdown. As with the previous show, these themes could be very effective in engaging an audience. They are experiences that many may be going through. In order to do that successfully though, the performance needs to have a spark. I spent much of the 16 minute runtime waiting for some sort of unique spin that never came. The most humorous element was an aside from Malcolm about whether it was him or his new partner that snored in bed!
The genial trio certainly make an incongruous sight suited and booted in dinner jackets and bow ties against the backdrop of a grand looking courtyard. However, while this could have been used as a demonstration of a unique lockdown performance which couldn’t have been delivered on stage, it comes across as little more than an opportunity for Malcolm to show off his own back garden.
There’s no doubt that the idea behind Love, Loss and Quarantine is a sound one. The appropriately themed jazz numbers which accompany Malcolm’s ramblings are executed in a technically proficient style. It is clear that The Swells have some real musical talent. Maybe, however, the problem is not with the performance itself but with the platform it is being presented on.
Perhaps on stage in an intimate jazz club, this display of very human talent and sincerity may work very well but on the cold, unforgiving nature of a screen, it doesn’t quite cut it. In other words, to quote Cole Porter, a case of, “It’s the wrong time and the wrong place…..”
