A solo performance from Laurence Boothman as the unnamed character who is processing the stages of grief.
He receives a puppy from his partner for Xmas, despite never having expressed the slightest interest in dogs. Would like to say no, but... it's cute. They compromise on Jack as a name and the puppy takes over their lives.
But one day Jack returns in the arms of, not his purchaser, but a policeman. The man he loves has died in a road accident, now he's alone with Jack. And all that pain. Boothman's character copes badly. At first. But can he come through it all, and what role does the initially unwelcome Jack play?
This is a moving study of how we deal with grief, not as something predictable, but as individual human beings who all react differently. Nobody knows your grief, and helpful suggestions aren't always helpful. Having to endure a bit of old fashioned homophobia along the way is only going to make things worse. But there is a way through, sometimes in a surprising direction.
Liam Moffat's script is often darkly hilarious, but always humane, and draws the tears at the end. Imaginative direction, within the confines of a flashy, but simple, set drives things along. But is Boothman's performance that is most impressive, from manic to quietly contemplative, from despair to joy. He does the voices of the people he has to deal with (including a memorable turn as the puppy), giving us a range of characters. It's raw and emotional and very powerful.
It's astonishing that fifty minutes can convey so much, but Jack does it brilliantly.
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