Filtering by Tag: Wilting In Reverse

Recent Press (Perth, Adelaide, Melbourne)

Added on by Stuart Bowden.













★★★★★ "Delightfully quirky, lo-fi weirdness from a truly gifted performer." Adelaide Theatre Guide 

★★★★ "A sight to behold" - The Clothesline

★★★★ "An off-beat, absurdist, endearingly funny one-man show" Kryztoff

★★★★ "fantastical, ludicrous, funny and heartfelt." Indaily


★★★★ and 1/2 "Bowden is a talented theatre maker. His piece is punchy, he boasts some seriously decent vocal chords, does great things with looping vocals, and he manages to tell a completely absurd tale in a compelling manner." - Arts Hub

"In this darkly hilarious and utterly charming show, Bowden has crafted an absolute winner" - Squirrel Comedy

morning coffee

Added on by Stuart Bowden.

You're in the hotel room. You're not allowed to have guests here, cheap hotel. I park in a space across the road. It's quiet, no other cars, I sneak towards the back of your room, I'm pretty excited. You're still sleeping. I push the window open and climb in, with a coffee for you. I take the trumpet out of its case, I take off my clothes until I am completely naked. This will be the funniest thing to wake up to I think. But just before I'm about to play, I worry that it might be a bit too intense, so I climb into the closet and start playing some stupid jazz from in there. You spring out of bed, and see the window ajar, pick up a belt and fasten it around the two closet doorknobs, I'm trapped.

"You scared the shit out of me" you yell at the closet.

"Sorry, I got excited. Now let me out."

"No it's your punishment"

There is a knock at the door. Quickly you go to the door, "hello" you say to the closed door.

"We've had a complaint, we need to come in." 

"Oh is it about the trumpet, sorry I've stopped."

"No it's not about that. We need to come in I'm afraid."

"Oh, ok." You open the door a little. "It's really fine, I've stopped playing trumpet."

"Do you have someone else staying with you?"

"No, no, I'm completely alone."

"Sorry could you please let me in, we need to check your room."

"WHat for?"

"Someone reported seeing someone climb in the window. We need to check your room"

Meanwhile I'm naked, locked in the closet holding a trumpet.

making a new show

Added on by Stuart Bowden.

I'm making a new show called Wilting In Reverse. I'm doing a residency at Soho Theatre. The deadline is getting pretty close but I'm still not exactly sure what this new one is yet. But I thought it might be nice to share some of my early/not fully formed (embarrassing) ideas. So, hopefully I'll keep putting things on this blog. Firstly I have this little video (which most likely/definitely will not feature in the show but maybe it will who knows).

so pretty much I'm narrowing down what will and will not make it into the show by a process of elimination.

Alright here it is:


Added on by Stuart Bowden.

It is a Sunday that fills its mind with rain and footsteps. Walking down to the park as a rite, coffee as a rite; but it doesn't do what it should, it doesn't mend you a like-new week. It doesn't fix your tired neck that creeks in loose collars. What does a Sunday like this do? It lays you down early and turns off the radio because it was only playing static and you didn't even notice. It puts a glass of water beside the bed and takes your socks off. It says, "I know you want a holiday, but you've just had one, so you're going to have to think about going to bed a little earlier more often".


Added on by Stuart Bowden.

"I'm not sure it was a wolf. It was more likely a fox or a dog"

Well, that's it. That is all there is to it then. There is nothing else to say. Laura has stamped her opinion on the matter and everything after that is void. The fact that there is doubt totally discredits anything that Kyle can say after that. This story is over.

Kyle finishes the last of his watery lemonade, then casually shrugs and with a twinkle in his eye says, "You were pretty eager to get back on the track then, if you thought it was just a dog?"

Bold manoeuvre from Kyle, Laura won't take kindly to this.

"I was just getting bored, that's all, just bored." Laura sighs then continues, "to be honest, Kyle, the whole waterfall thing was pretty unimpressive." 

"Well, you rushed back to that track pretty quick, for someone who was bored. You kept tripping over. And then you insisted we come straight back to the burrow and just leave those berries that we'd spotted. You were totally shitting yourself. Bored? Yeah right, more like terrified."

Feeling like he's won, Kyle takes another sip of his lemonade forgetting it's empty, he lifts it, then lifts it a little higher, then higher again and then he finds himself completely under the cup, the cup is embarrassingly high and disappointingly dry.

I feel like this is a good point for me to diplomatically include myself, "Well, I don't think I've ever gone off the track, I've never been game, so well done."

"Well, Kyle insisted we go see this so called waterfall" Laura sighs and plays with her whiskers.

Kyle puts his cup down and says "It's actually quite nice".

I reply quickly sensing Laura is ready to rebut "Well, you'll have to take me some day."

"Don't bother" there she goes, as predicted, "it's just a trickle, and there are stinging nettles absolutely everywhere and spiders, don't get me started on the spiders, they're as big as my..." Laura stops dead still.

All of a sudden there is a loud, sharp howl from close outside in the dark. We all instantly bound to our feet and scurry down to the deepest part of the warren.

"Should I dig us a little deeper." Kyle speaks crouching, poised to begin digging. 

"It couldn't hurt" I reply quickly, seeing that he's totally freaking out. 

Laura steps in, grabs Kyle by his fury ears and throws him backwards, then with a hushed voice looks deep into my eyes and says "Are you serious? They'll hear us! If Kyle starts digging they'll hear us for sure"

"Yeah yeah, ok, lets just ride it out here then" I sit down. Laura is deeply in love with Kyle



Added on by Stuart Bowden.

The old man reclines on the soft grass in a park. The quarantined dog lies on a blanket. The tree eagerly watches as her shadow reaches towards an over exposed sun-baker. The bird chirps on a brick that has fallen from a crumbling wall. The skull of an extinct animal lies unseen in the ground. The pair of jeans hang on a rack. The newspaper lies in a bin bag soon to be buried by a machine. The extraterrestrial being sits backstage ready to receive an award for discovering life on another planet. The sleeping child in a sun filled room twitches in a bed of white sheets. The hot runway presents his belly for an aeroplane to smoke up her wheels on. The pineapple rots in a bag. The florist raises his hands in an empty room and weeps for his father behind the curtain, gone. The gyms digital screen clock observes a teenager drawing a picture of a turtle smoking a cigar in detention. 

I, with nothing better or worse to do, sit on a step under what should be sun but is only clouds.