Lip Service

Bekki Gerrard stands at the front, introducing videos of her grandparents like a pupil giving a school report. These flashes of the classroom, as well as the fact she is completely naked and holding a large jug of milk, gives the unusual sensation you have walked into someone else’s nightmare.

Not that she seems to mind. Gerrard appears totally at ease in her skin. This, combined with her deliberately over rehearsed delivery, gives a prelapsarian innocence to proceedings. In fact, the naivety is clearly a front, with a wicked sense of humour apparent just below the surface. There are numerous jokes at the audience’s expense, disguised by a sublimely innocent façade: from making them literally watch a kettle boil to exuberantly and obliviously dancing and jumping about. Nevertheless this charming, childlike persona is the most successful aspect of the show.

However, while Gerrard’s family history is told with great feeling, these personal stories hold little interest for others. There is a distinct lack of drama: an ambiguously absent brother turns out only to be going to a different university. What’s more, there is the suspicion wordless elements like the kettle are used to pad out the 40-minute run time.

Despite Gerrard’s endearing shamelessness, this is the equivalent of flipping through someone else’s family photo album. Indeed, she makes tea and passes around snapshots. Just putting herself and her history on show is not enough. Gerrard must learn to leave something more to the imagination.