The London International Mime Festival is a bit of an odd beast with a slightly deceptive title. There are physical theatre shows, circus acts, dance events, heck, there are even performers who occasionally break what you might consider to be the cardinal rule of mime and talk. Most shows sell out sight-unseen and feature the best European talents, though next week there is even an appearance from juggler extraordinaire Mat Ricardo, a regular on the London live circuit. As I said, anything goes at LIMF.
Patrice Thibaud and Philippe Leygnac's Ocorico falls into classic clown silent double act territory. Thibaud is large, Leygnac is so tiny that at one point he is swung around like a toy or a vent act's dummy. I say classic but classic in a modern sense. No custard pies, the clothes are sober shirts and slacks and the only time a red nose appears it is to subvert knowingly - I hope - the silliness and corniness of the trad circus act. The title comes from the noise a cockerel makes – every now and again Thibaud does an amusing Foghorn Leghorn impersonation to remind us.
Thibaud is a terrific physical performer, from fumbling to find an imaginary pocket to swooning gracefully when he hears some music. Like large men such as Alexei Sayle and Omid Djalili (though taller - he slightly resembles Carling Black Label man Stephen Frost) he is surprisingly light on his feet. A lot of his schtick could be dubbed "Monsieur Bean" and, of course, Rowan Atkinson's bumbling creation owes something to French legend Jacques Tati, so what comes around goes around. He likes to play slightly silly, fidgety characters who get into scrapes in inappropriate situations. One brilliant set-piece finds him unable to settle down during a musical recital. In another he thinks so hard he mimes taking his brain out and squeezing it like a sponge.
Leygnac spends a lot of the gig at the upright piano, which is almost a third member of the act, being pushed, pulled and frequently clambered over. He is a great pianist, able to continue playing while Thibaud creates mayhem all around him or interrupts him by repeatedly and proudly playing a single note like an over-excited, attention-seeking small child.
There is nothing particularly new about their act and it is obviously very popular back home. They are just about to undertake a four-month residency in Paris and I'm intrigued at the thought of them keeping this act fresh every single night, but they obviously can. They clearly take great pleasure in chasing each other around the stage and mucking about in such a skilful fashion.
If I did have a criticism it is that there are brief moments that are not exactly politically correct. When Thibaud pretends to win a spoof cycle race having downed some drugs and expertly sabotaged his rivals, he mimes squeezing a woman's breasts while collecting the trophy and plays all innocent. It's daft Carry On fun but feels a bit too old hat. And during a marching band sequence where Thibaud plays a sequence of characters, one is a mincing member straight out of John Inman. But, hey, these are small quibbles. This is a family show, great fun and if London's huge Gallic community hasn't snaffled all the tickets there is one more performance this Sunday afternoon at 3pm.
The LIMF continues until Feb 1. Details here.
