About half way through Ali Brice’s performance I realised he may be labelled a rich man’s atom bomb: carefully planned with care to violently release a great chaos over an unexpected population, but in a good way.
Although it may seem an ADHD-riddled misadventure to begin with, Brice uses careful narrative planning and a quick wit to weave together what may be better termed an experience for the audience. I left feeling I had got to know many people, not just limited to Brice’s various incarnations.
Don’t be fooled by the title, there’s much more to this show than Brice’s bad day in a bin. Throughout the one hour performance you will see a full plethora personalities, ramblings, oddities, and hearty chortles that is entirely worthwhile and not at all predictable.
Brice himself is not only a great deliverer of laughs but also surprisingly human with them, despite the grandiosity of the subject matter. He is careful to build a gradual and natural banter with his audience – in a wholesome and absurd way.
The best way to describe Brice is absurd in the most mischievous sense of the word. Always looking, and mostly succeeding, to catch out the audience, Bin Wondering doesn’t slow down to let you catch a breath – except for the odd audible sigh at an endearingly mediocre dad-pun.
Along with this Brice employs a well put together soundboard that in-itself is comically underused and never stays longer than the laugh itself.
Bin Wandering is a full and hearty experience, and Brice himself shines through as a charismatic cheer-monger.
Though the hour will go fast, if extravagant absurdism, group humour, and hyper-active storytelling interests you, you should not pass Ali Brice’s Bin Wandering by. It’s a remarkably unique show in an otherwise over-saturated industry.