Review: Chimp at Fringe Hub

Review by Greg Gorton

By the time I was able to see Chimp, it had already won a tonne of awards, judges picks, customer picks…. The artist pass line to get in was as large as the number of seats available. It is a little difficult to go into a show that already has such a context with any kind of objectivity, but it doesn’t matter. If, for some reason, the room was empty, I cannot believe it would be any less exciting.

Chimp, created and performed by Conor Lynch, is a physical theatre comedy that is absurdly simple in its premise - what if a chimp took the stage for a night, and tried to understand its audience. Without a single word uttered, Lynch spends an hour learning how to use a mirror, teaching himself the ability to fist pump, eating gnats from heads, and attempting to assimilate as a human. He also attempts to ignore the tempting banana he found in a jacket pocket, and have a “normal date” with an audience member.

Lynch does a fine job as the chimp, bouncing about with energy, constantly on the move, stopping only occasionally to wipe himself down after particular exhaustive maneuvers. Each grunt or squeal has obvious meaning, each posturing clear in its attention. Directed by Paul Bourke, the team spent some time acquainting them with the old council chambers and found ways to seamlessly incorporate the space into the show. 

In a fascinating and unexpected turn for the show, Bourke and Lynch also choose to use the sound and lighting design as part of the narrative. The chimp is amused that the spotlight would follow him, and knows that a click of the fingers could turn the soundtrack on and off. The chimp knows that keys go in locks and bow ties go around necks, but needs the audience for both tasks.

And here is where Chimp goes from a delightful physical comedy piece into something brilliant - the audience and the role they play in the production.

To be clear, while audience participation in this show is high, Lynch has an innate understanding off just how comfortable any audience member is with being involved. He knew every time when to back off, when to push harder, and when to de-escalate the member’s involvement. The ability to do this is essential to making works like Chimp succeed.

It’s not the high audience participation that makes this show great, though. It’s what Lynch does with it: makes us question just how different are we to the chimp? There is a tonne of meta humour in this show, but not how it would usually occur. If an audience member failed to “play along”, it was the chimp that was disappointed in them. When the chimp overpours a glass until it flows onto the table, it looks cheekily at the audience - is he incompetent, or is he trolling us? We will never know.

This isn’t a two-layer show. It isn’t Conor Lynch playing a monkey. It is Conor Lynch playing an intelligent monkey, who is playing a less intelligent monkey. And that intelligent monkey is manipulating us into looking like fools. So we must be monkeys too. This right here is why Chimp is not just a physical comedy, but a work of genius.

Image Supplied