The Head of the Fork

The Zoo Roxy’s cramped, claustrophobic basement is a fitting venue for Jonathon Ponting’s engaging if slightl comic tragedy about two young men struggling for space, both in the adult world and in the unkempt flat they share.

Ponting plays Fred, a work-shy 21-year-old with holes in his socks who is so terrified of life decisions—of "the head of the fork"—that he opts out of making any, filling his days with daytime television. His flatmate Dom (Edward Eales-White) is less squeamish: he has a steady job, career prospects, and little time for humouring his indolent friend.

The pair’s interaction is an insightful study into the effects of extended adolescence. While Dom proclaims to "love our little house", theirs is a typical student hovel, with an unmoving—and immovable—Fred permanently plonked on the natty sofa or staring out the window at the neighbourhood cats like a youthful, able-bodied version of James Stewart in Rear Window.

The cruelty and subcutaneous disgust that quickly grows to dominate Dom and Fred’s relationship is arguably the play’s most interesting facet. Aided by an unfussy set and a well-defined narrative structure, the two would-be best mates move from sharp-tongued banter to open hostility.

The performers imbue their characters with just the right mix of starry-eyed wonder and self-pitying cynicism. Like Fred, The Head of the Fork sometimes wants for driving ambition but the writing is crisp and well-observed throughout, and while the dénouement is obvious from the off, the end of the road, when it comes, is surprisingly affecting.