Me, Bill Nighy and the Goblin is a one-woman comedy by Nalika De Silva. The show was a relative success last year at both the Edinburgh and Camden Fringe, earning Nalika high praise as she catapults into her tour. In anticipation of its landing in Bristol, I spoke to Nalika for StageTalk a couple of weeks ago and at the time asked her about the show’s development following last summer’s run. But she had little to report. The piece, it would seem, hasn’t changed at all in a year, and unfortunately this is quite apparent in her delivery.
De Silva is certainly a very talented actress. She trained at East 15 and clearly has a gift for character acting and impressions, as she reanimates some colourful figures from her own life. Her difficulty lies in stringing these characters and anecdotes together into a fluid performance. The pace last night was almost dragging to a halt and at times felt stilted and awkward. Yes, the audience at The Wardrobe wasn’t particularly big, and they were quietly responsive, but it is vital that Nalika gages and responds to the crowd, not stopping to wait for laughter when no laughter comes.
Nalika is a naturally funny person with a wonderful energy and (unusually for a comedian) an extremely positive outlook on life. Her charm comes through briefly onstage and the moments which were funniest were those moments which felt more personable, natural and less rehearsed. The show is a balancing act between stand-up comedy and theatrical performance, the latter often deployed by Nalika as a mask which she hides behind. The moments which are acted out are pretty good, but the show lacks an overall sense of style and timing, which is so crucial to the comedy.
The story itself is also somewhat lacking as Nalika relates the adventure of moving from Wakefield to London to pursue her dream of acting (interspersed by some rubbish jobs and chance encounters with Nighy.) But the story she is telling lacks fluidity and any sense of a narrative arc. What she needs to be showing is some sense of her own character development; to think about the show as a piece of story-telling, rather than just a whimsical stand-up routine with a few impressions thrown in. And, she must think of herself as a character, and try to figure out how she presents herself within the narrative. Her story is certainly worth telling, and I believe she has a lot to say, but she seems too deeply buried within the over-played and over-rehearsed retelling of her life to realise her potentiality.
One of the saving graces of the show is Nalika’s inventive use of multimedia, ranging from a hilarious relaxation tape, to a surprising video of the Glendholt Male Choir. These pieces of media create a new dynamic within the audience which is left unexplored. Nalika is reluctant to interact with her audience, at times seeming almost oblivious to them.
Overall, Nalika De Silva is an inventive, charming and natural comic performer, but this one-woman show feels tired and overdone. Its barrage of impressions of people we don’t know feels at times like an uncomfortable show-reel (look how many accents I can get into one show!) The piece needs a drastic overhaul, in terms of Nalika’s delivery and the structure of the story; it’s a genre-balancing hybrid between performance and stand-up which hasn’t quite found its feet. But I do still rate Nalika as a comedian worth watching. ★★☆☆☆ Chris White 26/06/15
