Stepping into the theatre for Robin Ince - The Universe and The Neurodiverse, I really wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew little about Robin’s work, but my goodness am I glad I didn’t. The extent of my knowledge prior to the show was the information provided on the Old Fire Station webpage; a blurb depicting his work with Professor Brian Cox, his Chortle Awards for stand up comedy and his work as an author. What I found out about Robin during the show was so much more. Not only is he incredibly funny, he is also one of the most genuine people you’ll meet in the industry.
By 7.25pm the audience were seated, but no sooner had the chatter dimmed to a low murmur did a head pop out from behind the curtain. Without a second thought, Robin was on stage chatting to us all. No pretence, no grand entrance, just a guy who loves to connect. He started with an overview of how the show runs and then proceeded to tell us all the ways in which that hadn’t been the case in the 37 previous venues he’d visited. You see, Robin has ADHD. That meant for 90 minutes the audience were taken on a whirlwind trip through the mind of the neurodiverse and, hopefully, made it out the other end relatively unscathed.
With a beaming grin, Robin announced that the show would be aided by a carefully curated PowerPoint presentation of his favourite images. A presentation containing at least 40 slides, most of which had never actually been seen by an audience since he often found it hard to sift through images without telling a story, which in turn lead to five other stories. Each tale was full of wit and charm, with topics ranging from encounters with Dame Judi Dench to his favourite book shop bathroom. I should add warning here, if you go to a Robin Ince show prepare for the possibility of whiplash from the speed at which he changes subject.
Interspersed between the fabulously silly stories were beautiful, and often poignant poems. His talent for expressing his beliefs, and broadening the audiences views on topics such as trans rights and environmental struggles, was brilliant and in no way forceful or preachy.
After a short interval we were thrust back in to the chaos. Robin’s energy on stage was infectious and you could tell the audience, myself included, were fully committed to the bit. He proceeded to tell lavish stories while keeping check on us, making sure we were following his train of thought and even asking us to put him back on track when his mind wondered. My favourite moment in the show came when Robin talked about an old friend standing up to a bully. I won’t divulge the details here, but in essence it was a story about confident vulnerability, the idea that opening up and expressing yourself should be a positive experience. I walked out of the theatre with a whirring head (in a good way) and the understanding that authenticity and joy are key to living a happy and fulfilling life.
As a fellow neurodiverse human I felt an overwhelming sense of belonging in Robin’s show. I have often been told that I’m too loud or talk to fast, go off on crazy tangents and focus on silly details. It’s true, I do, but so does he, unashamedly and completely authentically. It was a pleasure to spend an evening in Robin’s world.