A unique blend of drag, storytelling and physical theatre, “Kinder” is the tale of Goody Prostate, a drag queen and clown living in poverty who escapes into their eclectic and fabulously extravagant wardrobe as a means of self-expression. After receiving a phone call in the middle of a highly entertaining opening dance number, they are commissioned to perform in front of children at a drag reading hour at the local library. We follow their struggles as they deliberate on what to wear, what to say, and how to confront the anti-drag protest that’s been organised outside 

This is easily one of the funniest shows I have had the pleasure of seeing at this year’s Fringe. The physical comedy, wordplay and visual gags alone are worth high praise. And yet the show’s strengths are not limited to its ability to make you laugh; it’s a highly intelligent meditation on the nature of prejudice and bigotry and the disruptive effects it has on vulnerable children. 

If you like your theatre served with a side of mindfulness, this is the show for you.

One-person shows hinge on the ability of the solo artist to fully embody their world and pull us into their state of mind. And Kinder delivers in spades. Goody is a glamourous chameleon of a character, a colourful ball of camp energy that’s impossible to look away from. One has to applaud their impeccable comic timing, from their many over-the-top mannerisms and extremely expressive facial makeup to their use of props and costume items scattered across the stage (I was in stitches over the use of what I can now affectionately describe as a “Swiss Army Croc”).

The minimalist stage area is put to fantastic use with the close seating arrangements and the incorporation of coloured lights whenever Goody’s monologue turns to darker subject matter. There’s an intimacy here that compliments the changes in tone, without sacrificing the humour or neglecting the seriousness of the overall message. Goody’s close proximity makes their struggle and reflections on queerness and childhood all the more raw. And as they change from one extravagant ensemble to another, they turn costuming into an act of liberation and resistance, a celebration of individuality.

In politically fraught and tumultuous times for civil rights and humanitarianism, and with similar anti-queer protests taking place across the world, Kinder strikes a nuanced and poignant chord. It threads a through-line between the totalitarianism and hatred of the past and the ignorance of the present. It's a call for community, an appreciation of the differences between us that extends beyond makeup and high heels. And ultimately, what we can do to nurture the minds of children to make a kinder future.

Rippingly hilarious, profound and thought-provoking, you’ll have a riot of a time with Kinder.

***** FIVE STARS