Neil Frost: The Door

There’s a white door on stage – no frame, no wall: just the door. That and a dress-up box behind it are all that Neil Frost needs to paint a picture of his early life with his grandparents, growing up in eighties England.

The door is the backdrop for photos from his childhood – and for each image we see projected onto it, Frost recreates the costume on stage for us to enjoy.

But each costume tells a story, and it’s this that keeps the audience enthralled from the moment Frost steps out wearing a bowtie to tell us that we’re not coming in. His memories of school nativities, amateur dramatics and scout camps are hilariously told, but every tale has an element of nostalgia, of a simpler time – when all we had to remember was our full childhood address and telephone number.

Frost is a natural interacting with the audience – encouraging them to heckle and engage, and taking their shouted suggestions, he throws it all in the mix with his own memories. And he’s having as much fun as the audience too, improvising when things don’t quite go to plan.

For the most part, It’s a gentle journey through Frost’s early life, sketching his family circumstances enough for the audience to understand where he’s from, disarmingly, he self-deprecating his life choices to take him to where he is today – but everyone is having a whole lot of fun along the way. But it’s also a show that honours his grandparents, and it’s genuinely touching when you’re not laughing out loud.

The early timing of this show is good too: it’s a great Fringe appetizer to get you in the mood for an evening of other shows in the Courtyard. Highly recommended for those who can remember the eighties, but is still a lot of fun for others – it may help you understand your parents who lived through them!

Review by Mark Wickett

To check out or round-up of Adelaide Fringe reviews, click here.