Editors Note: This review is part of theatrebristol.net's second open Mayfest Audience Reviews Project, and the opinions contained are soley those of the author and not those of Theatre Bristol as an organisation, nor should they be attributed as such. For more information about the reviews project contact editor@theatrebristol.net

First there are the squeaky shoes. Then strong light, almost blinding. Ed, facing the back wall, walks backwards  slowly, squeak squeak. This is the birth and soon there is nothing but death. But what a fun evening it turns out to be.

Who Knows Where is the final part in a trilogy of work that started with 10 Ways to Die on Stage. In it, Ed is asking the big questions around death and happiness (there’s more death than happiness, mind you). It is still work-in-progress; in fact, Ed tells us that he has had trouble finding inspiration for the show and that it did finally arrive, on Monday. So the structure of the show is ordered by a method whereby Ed pulls out a strip of paper with a piece of material out of a champagne bucket. He then does the material he’s prepared, sometimes with some informative words about why he’s thought of this material, sometimes with a pained expression while grapping and pulling his hair as he explains his thinking, but most often with a charming, enthusiastic smile. It is clear that Ed likes what he does and his fervour grabs the audience and takes it with him. He’s asking us questions like ‘what would you do if you lived for 100 years’ and towards the end of the show the audience are offering advice or asking him questions without even being prompted. This is like ‘An Evening with Edward Rapley’. There’s even a song and a party trick.

The material varies from memories of near-death experiences and remembering lost friends and family to reading excerpts from a book on Zen wisdom. The show balances laugh out loud funny with thought provoking and moments like demonstrating the five stages of grief when hearing you only have decades left to live offer comic relief between questions like  ‘what are you without others, alone on a field?’ Because, apparently, that’s what death is like. It is exhilarating to watch someone who has the confidence to change his material even when inspiration hit so late. The performance is practically built on risk and it is a risk worth taking. It feels alive and surprisingly enough the dynamics work brilliantly. No dull moments here. At the end of the night I feel quite tired. My facial muscles feel heavy as I’ve been smiling continuously and my head feels like it’s full of information and talking. I am tired but exhilarated.

The show has its quieter moments too like when Ed tells us about his trip to Arnos Vale cemetery, concluding that there are a lot of dead people under the ground or when he reads us his will. There could have been more of these kinds of silent pauses and moments of stillness to allow for deeper investigation of the subject matter. I look forward to seeing the show in a year’s time to see how it’s grown (that’s how long it might take to finish it, according to Ed) and in the meantime urge everyone to go and see it, no matter how little time you have left.