Review: My Grandpa Doesn't Follow Me on Instagram: A Guide to Trans-Generational Road-Tripping at Goodwood Theatre
Review by Lisa Lanzi
This solo performance during Adelaide’s FEAST Festival is tenderly formed, gently presented, and lands with an emotional, truthful potency that other, more complex performances do not always convey. Based on digital and personal recollections of a days-long Scottish road trip with ‘Pa’, Yoz Mensch also seamlessly intersperses the narrative with very personal insights into their own journey around mental health and gender. The work has toured extensively since its original outing at Adelaide Fringe 2026 and continues to fascinate, resonate with, and deeply engage audiences wherever it goes.
From the first moment, it is clear we are in the hands of a committed and exceptionally gifted storyteller. The flow of the work is paced very well and characterizations are flawless - a kind of mimicry, but one draped in deep appreciation, warmth, and affection. The spell is cast right from the start, and then, as the actor effects a first transformation to introduce us to Pa, the audience is instantly hooked. Such a richness of hilarity and tenderness is contained within this characterization, making Pa feel immediately recognizable to everyone in the room. Other characters emerge as the pair encounter an array of eccentric Scottish personalities at their various overnight stays, and once again, Mensch’s ability to deliver accent, nuance, and personality is delightfully on point.
The ease with which this performer transforms appears effortless and improvisational, but their honed and perfected actorly and physical skillset is precisely what anchors the performance and gives weight to the characters. The artist trained at L’Ecole Philippe Gaulier in 2024, and Mensch’s subtle but expert physicality brought so much depth and rhythm to the stage.
As story after story tumbles out with choreographed precision, we experience the emotional highs and lows of a road trip where their 80-year-old grandfather drove them to - and then past! - the site where Mensch’s grandma’s ashes were scattered. Serving as a visual backdrop to the tale are Instagram posts and text messages, alongside intimate fourth-wall moments (set within the car ‘glovebox’, complete with pink cyclorama) where audiences are invited directly into Mensch's interior world, moments that are sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, but always strikingly authentic.
Skilled direction and dramaturgy from Mary Angley allow every comic and emotional beat to hit home, alongside beautiful, appropriate sound design and composition from Dan Thorpe. This rich creative background assists the narrative to shine, ensuring there is no single focus, but rather a vibrant collection of anecdotes and interactions that tumble out naturally but with precision. We travel through many distinct moods as the pair traverse the countryside: shared grief, untold truths, difficult conversations, moments of irritability, curiosity, shared beers, contrasting worldviews, anxiety, and deep family bonds. Bookending this theatrical brilliance is the simple prop of a 70s vinyl and metal chair which seamlessly shapeshifts into a number of items, accompanied by simple but excellent lighting design, though I’ve now idea who to credit with the latter.
The affection and connection from the audience during the show was palpable, with warmth and laughter echoing through the space. I personally experienced memories of my own eccentric relatives surfacing, as I suspect others around me also found their own deeply personal attachments to the performance. One striking detail that lingers is the last name of the performer: the Yiddish word ‘mensch’ literally translates to a "person" or "human being," but figuratively denotes an individual of integrity, honour, and noble character. Both the show and the performer embody that exact integrity and nobility.
