I am going to warn you in advance here, dear reader. What is to follow is roughly three hundred words of me openly gushing about how great this show is. If I could give it more than five stars, I most certainly would.
Nate is an hour of character clowning comedy about consent and the issues of masculinity, and it so wonderful it should almost be required viewing for young men in the current climate. Starting with an opening spectacle involving a miniature motorcycle and a raw egg, I don’t know if it’s a thing of beauty or legitimately disgusting, and I think that dichotomy and uncertainty is the point of the show. Nate, played spectacularly by Natalie Palamides, asks a lot of questions of where the line in consent comes, and in asking the audience, no obvious answer is forthcoming, leading to a scathing and, at times, literally jaw-dropping discussion in the process.
However, it isn’t all the heavy serious stuff, this hour is also hilarious in every way. The physical humour includes wrestling matches with the audience, a repeated handshake that made me literally squeal with glee, and a more than healthy dose of nudity. Collectively, these left me in a state stuck between loud gasps of shock, and being unable to breathe with laughter. Little touches such as the difference in names given to a tuna bake between the US and UK, and a tattoo of some popular supermarkets constantly add and build to the spectacle as it goes, leading to a spectacle that is equal parts gorgeously realised and legitimately uncomfortable for the audience in exactly the ways it needs to be.
I honestly cannot say enough about how much I loved this show, to the extent that I feel almost privileged to have been in the audience. If you can see it, please do, and look out for it when the comedy awards are given out later in the month. Excellent.