Gob
A smash-hit at both the King’s Head Theatre, London in 1999 and Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2006, Gob is a blistering, cutting-edge,
uproarious attack on fashion, art and culture. Welcome to the gritty but lyrical world of The Liberator
(Mark Rose) and Hard Man Les (Tom Hayes); hardcore poets of the frontline, acid-fuelled Wordsmiths of the techno generation
– or, when they’re pushed for time, simply ‘Gob Warriors’.
Intent on proving themselves the equal of any of London’s smooth and golden-tongued poets,
these punk-loving, rave-crazy warriors decide to storm and invade that bastion of culture and good taste,
the South Bank Centre. How will these full-on troubadours of the road fare against the cream of London’s literati?
GOB also incorporates a live DJ, Spike, whose set includes everything from The Sex Pistols to Techno,
House to Strauss, plus the speeches of Margaret Thatcher and The Black Panthers. DJ Spike has played at many top venues and events,
including the Tong Festival, Wales; Brixton Academy and Turnmills.
Jim Kenworth recently made his debut as a writer with the premiere of Johnny Song at the Warehouse Theatre, Croydon.
His other plays include: Eddie Generation, London Loves You, Geezer, and We’re Not Here for a Fair Fight,
We’ve Come to Give You a Kicking.
“This might sound unlikely, but Jason Orange, the one with the teeth from Take That, is starring in a hip new play called Gob,
dressed as a homeless techno revolutionary in crustie combats and a grubby Che Guevara T-shirt.
A man who once played Wembley Stadium is now putting on a nightly performance for an audience of 120.
Like a skinny Mark Thomas, his character, known only as The Liberator, calls to arms the homeless of London in a touchingly
poetic fashion while an onstage DJ punctuates the dialogue with dance music beats, classical refrains and, memorably,
Survivor's hit from Rocky 3, 'Eye of the Tiger'. The shocker is, it's all rather good.”
Dom Phillips, The Observer
“Kenworth's play doesn't provide much opportunity for subtleties of interpretation from its actors but it has enormous heart.
The Liberator's sidekick is one Hard Man Les (Tom Hayes), a Scotsman stereotypically eager to use his fists in the class struggle.
After infiltrating the bastion of 'the fragrant set', the pair have to take on the formidable recitative talents of Mike Nietzsche and
Darling Boy in a poetry slam. With a swastika tattooed on his bare chest, maniac butch boy Nietzsche is Orange's finest moment.
'Arsehole' he intones, illustrating his relevance to Kenworth's message about speaking up with your own voice: even if it 'ain't proper'.
The character might rule out the possibility of the production being taken on a tour of the nation's secondary schools, which is a pity,
because that's where Orange and Gob could really start a revolution.”
Time Out
“Jim Kenworth's play - and it's stretching the imagination a bit to call it such –
is an appealing and occasionally irritating mixture of the tongue-in-cheek and the preposterously serious.
It is also an example of a small but growing theatrical trend that aims to create a club-like ambience for drama.
It's not intended for those who lived through the seventies,
but those who were born there. DJ Spike mixes the tunes on the sound system as Liberator and Les go on their New Age quest.
Kenworth's script and the production both borrow too heavily from early Berkoff, but it has some wry jokes,
a perky cartoon energy and it is punchily performed by Tom Hayes and ex-Take That star Jason Orange.
No, it won't change the world, but for 70 minutes it gives you a small but distinct high and
I can't protest at anything that promotes the hardly seditious idea that if you have a voice
then you should try to make yourself heard.”
Lyn Gardner, The Guardian