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THE END OF THE WORLD. WITH ANIMAL BALLOONS.

by Dan Kinch/BKCulturejammers

Review by Laura Darling

 

As the audience files in, we see a black-clad figure sitting on a chair, back to us. We’re prepared for something perhaps a bit on the dark side.

 

We’re right. It’s sinister, all right. But we should know; we’ve all actually helped to write the script.

 

This one-man show will especially appeal to area environmental and climate activists, and to all who care about the future of our (and other) species. And those who think these things are not important will get a quick hourlong education about why they should start paying attention.

 

You can’t say he doesn’t warn you. Dan Kinch, writer and performer of Planet Hospice, gives his audience a couple chances to walk out after he starts out with studiously halfhearted attempts at humor—the cornier ones of which actually are cackle- or guffaw-worthy, as the audience displayed on opening night.

 

The device is that James Light, PhD, animal evolutionary biologist, has been canned from his professorship because the science he teaches is just too grim; he’s a Guy McPherson type, and that kind of harsh reality doesn’t sell well in admissions brochures and marketing materials to people who are going to spend a quarter million bucks to get their kids diplomas that will be worth, well . . .

 

Professor Light takes us through the hard cold facts—touching on population, carbon, methane, policies, habits, denial, and a bunch of other pertinent topics—using a hockey stick, instead of his former professorial slide shows and laser pens. to illustrate quantities and timelines. Props also include a clown nose, a slide whistle, and some quite amusing balloon animals.

 

Kinch intersperses these lessons with a bit of silliness to add the levity that his university administrators seemed to want. It’s not an easy task when dealing with such a serious subject.

 

Kinch does a great job of portraying a rumpled professor giving his last-gasp attempt to wake people up, and as an alarm clock, he’s simultaneously foghorn, dirge, and serenade.

 

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