The intimate setting of the Burton Taylor was perfect for this delightful story of a 14-year-old boy with a girl’s name, Shirley, and his new neighbour Wound Man.  The latter is a character who has come to life from a 14th century medical textbook etching, an almost naked guy in a silver posing pouch with an assortment of injuries to his body. He has a cutlass in one shoulder, a spear through one thigh, a kitchen knife protruding from under his left eye, and so on, to about twenty wounds; he even has his right hand hanging off. You get the picture.

Shirley befriends Wound Man when he moves in next door to Shirley’s house in a suburban street, shaped like a hockey stick. They hit it off immediately, largely because Wound Man is a superhero in need of a sidekick and Shirley is desperately in need of a confidant, for Shirley is in love with the talented School Cross Country Captain and the stars on his bedroom ceiling don’t shine. Shirley and Wound Man have funny and moving adventures together in this “heartbreakingly romantic” production:  there were tears in the audience, I’m sure.

Chris Goode likeably narrated the story, wot he wrote, using a varied range of neat accents, dynamics and characters. You can well imagine him telling you about these two characters over a pint in the pub, but this time he mostly sat in a big purple armchair surrounded by Shirley’s teenage bedroom detritus of dirty socks and Asimov novels; his words and actions punctuated with interesting music and lighting effects. 

Our talented storyteller held the attention of his audience through the ups and downs of his compelling tale, coming across always as sincere and interested. His writing is very tight and well-structured, probably having benefitted from touring the show and finding out just what works with audiences. There’s a good balance between humour and emotion, and it’s never over-sentimental. I could clearly see just why this enchanting story has received such high praise on its progress around the country.