Bartender behind British bars good for some fine laughs
“You haven’t come all the way from Canada to work at Butlin’s?”
Disbelieving Brits keep asking TJ Dawe that question during A Canadian Bartender
at Butlin’s.
Dawe is a favourite at the Toronto Fringe, having performed here in 1998, 2000 and 2002. He has now poured himself another winner with Canadian Bartender (Four Stars) at this year’s Fringe.
It tells of a summer mis-spent at the Butlin’s in Bognor Regis in Sussex. Butlin’s, incidentally, are blue-collar, British holiday camps consisting of barbed wire fences and windows with bars on them.
As Dawe wryly remarks, they look uncannily like the set of the World War II movie The Great Escape.
Dawe never actually answers the question why he worked at Butlin’s. But it certainly provided him with an abundance of entertaining material for a one-man show.
He opens with a 10 minute riff about going to the family cottage (in Canada) with a bunch of friends when he was a kid, only to find that the cottage was locked tight.
It’s a seemingly unrelated intro to the show, but in fact Dawe weaves it all together with considerable storytelling skill.
At Butlin’s he is delegated to work in one of the nine bars on site, putting 6 ½ hours a day, six days a week (39 hours means he is classified as part-time and therefore doesn’t get benefits).
After a quick briefing and no formal training, he finds himself behind the bar, serving mysterious British drinks such as shandy (beer and fizzy lemonade).
He also finds himself puzzled and discombobulated by the language. He has a hang-up about the word toilet (as in “Where’s the toilet, mate?”) and almost squirms with embarrassment at the Brit phrase for asking for a cigarette: “Can I bum a fag?”
He meets intriguing characters such as his roommate Damon from Doncaster and the lovely Redcoat (those in charge of entertainment) Monica.
Life is a weary round of serving drinks, getting drunk, smoking the odd joint and passing out cold on pay night, which was always on a Tuesday.
Entertaining stuff from a confident performer with an engaging deadpan delivery.
Robert Crew
Toronto Star
July 5, 2003
