Review: Rollercoaster

Wes Peden, he tells us, likes to build sandcastles. He is dyslexic. And he’s a pop-punk juggler. He also really loves roller-coasters.

The stage is bare, bar a trio of twisting inflatable objects, and the soundtrack remixes the distorted screams of themepark-goers. But when Peden starts to juggle, the vibe shifts; everything is lighter as, around him, balls, plates and discs defy gravity.

Between sets, his disembodied voice explains his roller-coaster affinity, guiding us through a quick history of loops and spirals. Peden is both on a roller-coaster and the roller-coaster itself, flinging objects around, against, through him like rainbows.

The show isn’t exactly roller-coaster exhilarating, and the set-ups before each new phase are just long enough for the audience to be taken out of the magic a little. However, the way Peden moves his body – like a dancer, a snake, a spinning top – is hypnotic. He has the theatricality of a very gentle clown, for whom every stage direction is precise, but whose body lets loose when the music swells and a handful of clubs are in the air. Rollercoaster feels less pop-punk, and more a mild, witty and charming show of skill.