Joe Sellman-Leava wears a Superman T-shirt, his face hidden inside a hooded dressing gown. ‘I’m a little bit of a nerd’, he explains – as though the shelves of childhood bric-a-brac behind him hadn’t already told us that. There’s a copy of Catan, a Nintendo console, assorted cult-classic DVDs. I’m a bit of a nerd too, so there’s a lot on those shelves I recognise… but as this cleverly-layered and unexpectedly profound show explains, that’s a fact which could unite or divide us.
But before we tackle that weighty theme, let’s revel in the nostalgia. This is a show built from 8-bit graphics and VHS video cassettes, full of remembered catchphrases and reenactments of movie scenes. It isn’t exclusionary – the important things are all explained – but there is palpable love and understanding of these iconic cultural reference-points. Among other highlights, Sellman-Leava deploys impressive skills as a mimic to take us through the plot of Star Wars, and offers on-the-nose critique of that notorious deleted scene from The Muppet Christmas Carol.
But there’s a twist, of course, first introduced through a neat technical trick (that’s itself an homage to a certain episode of Doctor Who). Soon we’re learning more about this fanboy’s life story – of the beloved uncle who introduced him to these treasures, of the gawky transition from adolescence to adulthood, and of relationships that succeeded and failed. But on the fringes of the community he identifies with, trouble is brewing: personal attacks, Internet trolling, Gamergate. As he dips into the cesspool of a friend’s Facebook timeline, he’s forced to confront a growing schism in society… and to ask himself whether it’s truly necessary to pick a side.
It’s a troubling narrative, but the tone stays refreshingly light. Big themes are explored through the funny, insistent questioning of a child, or by knowing parallels with familiar movie plots. There’s an endearing love story to sweeten the pill, and Sellman-Leava never loses a hint of child-like wonder – of remembered delight at the first time these experiences were shared. The character he plays is fictional, but if you blink for a moment, it’s easy to picture this as his own life story.
And that story is a nuanced one. This fanboy has a moral compass, but he doesn’t see the world in black and white; when he does skirmish in a culture war, it’s with touching regret rather than virtue-signalling glee. Along the way, he presents a credible and insightful theory of why people are so keen to spoil things for others, and how our human love of the familiar can split society apart. He doesn’t present any solutions – if there is a solution to this problem, then it can’t be contained in a one-hour Fringe show – but he does speak to us as individuals, offer two distinct paths which each of us could choose.
Fanboy doesn’t sneer at those who set so much store by childhood memories; on the contrary, it celebrates them. But it reminds us that nostalgia, even for things that seem so harmless, can come at a terrible cost – and at a time when society feels scarily fragmented, that’s an important message for all of us. So, I enjoyed my hour in the Sellman-Leava’s company. And perhaps I’ll give The Phantom Menace a second chance.