It’s theatre, but not as we know it. That’s perhaps the best way to describe Two Strangers Walk into a Bar, which played at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe last August and is a lynchpin of this year’s Sydney Fringe.
In this production, there’s no stage, no audience (at least, not in any traditional sense) and the lead characters are two people unknown to each other.
It began with an email telling me to arrive at a venue (in this case Italian restaurant and bar Bottega Coco, in the heart of bustling Barangaroo) at a certain time and to sit on a flower festooned chair outside.
I did as instructed. Five minutes after arriving and sitting down, a friendly young woman approached, carrying a pink calico bag and a pair of headphones. Following some preliminary discussion, she gave me the bag, asked me to place the headphones in my ears and so began a theatrical experience quite unlike any other.
The soothing voice of the show’s creator, Tilda Cobham-Hervey, soon came through the headphones. In the pre-recorded piece, she talked about the connectedness of all things and all people and invited me to make observations about the people walking by and about myself. I was asked to write these observations in a notebook, which was ensconced inside the bag.
After a little while, I was directed to go inside and sit at the bar, where a nice stiff drink (a shot of something alcoholic and lemony – maybe limoncello) awaited.
It became clear I wasn’t the only person in the place having this experience (it is called Two Strangers Walk into a Bar, after all). It turned out a second person was being given similar, although not identical, instructions through headphones.
Soon, we were sitting face-to-face, directed through the headphones to ask each other various questions, writing down our impressions of the other in our notebooks and even swapping our notebooks for feedback and ‘corrections’. It felt extremely intimate, almost uncomfortably so, but cathartic and exciting at the same time.
The point was seemingly that, despite being strangers, we all share the experience of being human. Learning about the stranger’s fears, desires and feelings forged a connection that rapidly dispelled any sense of being a stranger – to the point that it felt sad when the person was instructed to leave and I was once again sitting alone.
Within the space of an hour, a stranger had become a confidant, an ally and … a friend. The effect was poignant, emotional and thought-provoking,
Things didn’t go entirely perfectly. While, presumably, the venue’s staff had been worded up about the production, it seemed some didn’t get the memo. Twice I was approached by staff and had to remove my headphones to hear their questions (“Do you want another drink?”, “Are you ordering some food?”), which meant I lost track of the pre-recorded instructions/narrative.
There was also an unfortunate incident at the end, which marred the experience somewhat. While leaving the venue, I realised I’d left my reading glasses behind. This isn’t the time or place to go into detail, but when going back for them, the staff member I approached could not have been ruder.
Arguably, this venue is not ideal for a show like this. Bottega Coco is place to flash the Amex – there’s nothing ‘fringe’ about it.
Read: Book review: The First Friend, Malcolm Knox
Despite this, Two Strangers Walk into a Bar was a touching experience and a worthy addition to the burgeoning interactive theatre genre. It’s highly recommended for any theatre lover who doesn’t mind a hefty dose of audience participation.
Two Strangers Walk into a Bar… by Tilda Cobham-Harvey
Bottega Coco, Barangaroo
Tickets: $29.50
Two Strangers Walk into a Bar will be performed as part of the Sydney Fringe Festival until 29 September 2024.
