A sick pantomime, a Punch and Judy show for the war on terror, Fatboy is a dark fantasy that doesn't so much wag a warning finger at the audience as grab it by the throat and throttle it.
Fatboy himself (Mike McShane, a million miles away from his jovial Hollywood Friar Tuck) is the personification of the dark side of humanity, the evil that lurks inside us all. With more than a passing nod to the aggressive foreign policy of the Bush administration, Fatboy is driven by the desire to consume. And consume he does, eating everything he can get his hands on, including furniture and money.
Written and directed by John Clancy, the man responsible for Americana Absurdum , Horse Country and Cincinnati , Fatboy follows its protagonist (“I am Fatboy. I am titular.”) from armed robber to dictator before a war crimes tribunal and finally to absolute monarch.
A reworking of Pere Ubu for the neo-con era, Fatboy rises to power with pre-emptive strikes, total control of the world's resources and the old favourite, snapping necks. Clancy's characters are drawn as much from Shakespeare as the White House with Fatboy's First Lady more of a Lady Macbeth. His cruel, sex-crazed wife Fudgegirl (Nancy Walsh) is his partner in crime, though she prefers to be known as Queen Fudgie the First. They spur each other on with constant streams of abuse and though neither can stand the other; neither can survive without the other.
Fatboy toys with dramatic conventions, both with props that are clearly props (think primary school plays) and by mocking its own staging. Intentionally larger than life, Fatboy plays with the audience-performer barrier. The cast frequently come out of character to address the audience and the characters themselves are acutely aware that they are in a performance. At one point, an actor asks for permission to leave the stage, as he must soon re-enter as another character. The best of the minimal yet masterful props is a flat card cocktail glass, painted full on one side, empty on the other. In contrast the characters are drawn to excess, with wigs and painted faces. McShane's stomach is padded up while Walsh has dramatically accentuated breasts and backside. Performed at breakneck speed, the dialogue is raucous and profane and adds to the bawdy, gaudy music hall atmosphere.
A horrific, graphic and brutal satire, Fatboy is a comedy with a black, black heart. Simultaneously funny and unpalatable, it's many laughs come fast and furious but also cut pretty close to the bone. As McShane explains at the end, Fatboy is a part of everybody and therefore nobody is innocent. He is Fatboy and you are Fatboy and we are all to blame.
