Review: The Dirty Picnic Club

I went into this not having a clue what to expect - just like the cast of the show.

Before arriving I had, of course, done my research. The description of the Dirty Picnic Club (‘part improv performance, part hidden camera show, part social experiment’) terrified me to my very audience-interaction-hating core. A fear that I took to the bar with me that night.

A few nights before the show we had also been sent a secret task; our mission was to send back either our favourite love song or worst break up song - with no explanation as to why. I had fever dreams of a spotlight on me and a sea of faces waiting expectingly as I was asked to sing Wolf Alice’s, ‘Don’t Delete The Kisses’.

At best I was being stupid, at worst totally ignorant. The Dirty Picnic Club was nothing like that; it was a million times better.

(From a Previous Dirty Picnic Club Show)

As we sat down, words appear on the screen. Within a few seconds, there is a confession of love and an introduction to the show; the premise is simple. This is an improvised love story; the two main protagonists, Caitlin Campbell (who plays Holly) and Dan South (who plays Ben) just don’t know it. In a rigged drawing of straws 10 minutes before the show, the rest of the cast act surprised as Caitlin and Dan are chosen as the protagonists. It’s now up to Sam (who plays Olly) and Andy (who plays Pete) to turn this into a love story.

The story plays out with the group of flatmates - with the staging made out of select pieces of furniture, a few plants, and a few odd props brought in by the audience. Voicemails from the Mum are played out as we meet Ben and his brother Olly - played by Sam Hall. Sam is hilarious in his role of uppity Harsgreave & Lansdown lawyer; his improvisation is so funny it’s hard to believe it’s not scripted. Memorable moments include his adoring recollection of work retreats; revelling in the memory of shouting a personal goal as each juggling ball hits it’s zenith, giving his examples of ‘Senior partner, lover, God’.

We quickly understand the dynamic; 26 year old wannabe novelist hasn’t worked for a while and lawyer brother, Olly, is trying to, semi-patronisingly, help him out with an admin job. A plot line that quickly falls away as we transition to the next scene where Ben asks Holly, at half 9 in the morning, whether being late to work is ‘generally considered bad’ before phoning up with claims of the coronavirus.

The transition to Holly and Pete’s scene is seamless and continues in this well established world of the early twenties. Both Holly (Caitlin) and Pete (Andy Kelly) are also, unsurprisingly, hilarious and all of the cast work together brilliantly to build a story that is rife with relatable themes. It is a bubble of the twenty-something’s life with day to day dramas; tensions about career related angst (Holly and Ben argue about her career as a writer and the gravity of her ’10 Best Latte’s’ Piece), Pete argues with everyone about oat milk, Ben still has no job by the end, Holly’s dating life is less than successful and at one point they have a party that ends with the fantastic line from Pete - ‘it’s 4am, I have court in the morning’.

Given that the main protagonists have no idea what they’re working towards, the plot builds in a fairly rational way. The storyline is converstional by nature and it is only in the second half that we see Andy, Sam and Lucy take a more powerful role in directing this to becoming a love story. Lucy drops in a line about whether Holly is seeing Ben, with brotherly interest Sam asks Ben what’s going on between the two. Luckily, Dan and Caitlin get the gist and the play crescendoes in one big happy kiss. Cue wolf whistling and cheers from one ecstatic audience.

The construction of the story is enjoyable. It’s fascinating to see how the actors watch from the sideline to be able to tag team the story as they carry joke from scene to scene. However, for me the real delight from this show comes from the inexpicable joy of being in on it. When the first song that was played was my chosen love song, I nearly jumped out of my seat in glee.

The fact that we are let into more secrets about the cast and storyline before the second half starts is delicious. It’s like pulling a joke on a friend. When we are shown photos of Dan with his old teenage band - all bedecked in checkered shirts with a glossy long hair cut - and told that one of their song’s is about to play mid scene, it’s hard not to get excited. When we find out that the set includes 3 Zadie Smith novels as one of the cast members has a PhD in Modern Literature, you can’t help but hope they notice it.

There are continual spanners thrown in the works - and all the more better for it. In fact, a show highlight comes from the Director of the Dirty Picnic Club, Lucy Fennell, ringing the door - a plot line that none of the cast see coming. You can visibly see Holly (played by Caitlin) having to think about what to do next as Lucy walks onto set.

The scene that plays out is one of unrequited love; Lucy’s tangible acting ability shines through to create a truly authentic moment between two ex partners in which Holly is regrettably forced to break up with her - again. For me, it showed a truly unexpected side of improv. Up until that point, the improv had led itself to humour but this was different. The awkwardness of a past partner turning up unexpectedly at your flat worked perfectly alongside improv. Not to say that either Holly or Lucy looked like they were struggling, but the awkwardness of not knowing what to say next created this incredibly striking tone for this context of two partners at loss of what to say to each other.

I had never experienced Improv and, to be frank, I was scared of the awkwardness. What I failed to take into consideration is that these are experts at work. If anything, the simmering awareness of the nature of improv; the fact that sometimes things go wrong, only adds to the show. There is even one eye wateringly funny moment between Holly and Ben when Ben breaks the fourth wall to explain to her that she had just blocked him, before playing out a bit of Improv theory in a fake restaurant.

At it’s best, improv, this idea of acting on impulse, allowed for some moments that felt more real than any other acting that I’ve ever seen - which is because it is. There is no script, the conversation can flow like any true conversation. It felt like being a fly on the wall in a flat in London. The jokes, alike the ones on coronavirus, are real and topical; they are symptomatic of the lack of limitations of improv; everything can be current when there’s no dated script.

Truly, I feel like The Dirty Picnic Club are onto something. As much as I could analyse the performance to death, I think I would have done my job if I leave you with only one message; this show was full of joy.

Find out more about Dirty Picnic Club HERE or by going to their Instagram at @dirty_picnic_club

Written by Jess Blackwell

I’m Jess, the founder of The Everyday Magazine. Day to day I work in marketing and am training up as a photographer in a Boudoir Studio in Bath. As a general rule, I like to write about things that would be awkward to discuss with the family. Try not to blush.