As the room slowly fills up with spectators walking right by him to take their seat, Wil Hodgson sits undisturbed in the centre of the arena, in front a small pub table, drinking his pint and checking his pink mobile. Then the lights are turned on, and the audience see his hair, that is bright pink, just like his nailpolish, Vans, watch and even underwear. Possibly one of the best entertainers of the Fringe, Hodgson uses his persona of pink-loving, carebear-tattooed ex-wrestler from Chippenham to talk about, well, what it’s like to look like him and live in Chippenham.
From his first sentence on, the audience is under the spell of this very intelligent writer and fantastic performer who does not stop speaking for more than 3 seconds during the whole show, and leads the spectators from his pub experiences with local punk friends to racism or his time at university, all the while without losing in his incredible ease and charisma. Everything and anything is mentioned, and Hodgson excels at discreetly bringing up even the most serious topics without becoming pretentious. For a whole hour, the audience does not miss a single word of his monologue even when laughing hysterically, and at the end is left wishing they could go and humbly shake his hand, feeling they’ve known him for years after hearing all his personal stories. For the spectators who do it, he will very gladly oblige and quietly listen to your comments. Here’s wishing Hodgson will finally get the larger recognition he deserves.
4/5 
Adeline Amar
(7 votes, average: 4.57 out of 5)
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