SOLD OUT EDINBURGH FRINGE 2019
Written and performed by Wil Greenway
Music by Kathryn Langshaw
Directed by Kellie Tori
Produced by Nick James Clark
You’re stood there by the sea. You’re under the sky and over the sand. It’s sunny and salty, birds and waves. Lots of different types of blue. And something else. Just there, look, a bottle. A salt crusted glass bottle with a scroll of paper inside. Open it.
“The Ocean After All is, on the surface, about a man trapped on a desert island, a message in a bottle, and a jumbled, jogged memory that slips and slides under the audience’s feet. Underneath though, it’s about friendships that drift apart, lives lived in a daze, and a lot more betides.”
★★★★ The Stage
“And so, you’re here, you’re there, you’re everywhere. Together, you make up for lost time and without warning, an entire year passes in one hour. The narrative is almost biblical. It has the feeling of morality tale - something sacred and far-reaching. It’s funny too, deliciously so. It is easy to see why Greenway’s shows have sold-out for four years running. He is the type of human to get lost with. A natural navigator to help hold your fists against the night, knuckle to knuckle, star to star.”
★★★★ A Younger Theatre
“There are certain artists you see at the Fringe, who seem to define it so totally that the thought of not seeing them the following year is somehow unthinkable. Wil Greenway is just such an artist…The Ocean After All is another of his delightful shaggy-dog tales, a simple story about a man who drives off a jetty, lands in a boat and drifts across the ocean until he finally finds himself marooned on a tiny island with nothing but seagulls and bananas for company - except, of course, it’s not about that at all. His stories feel like richly embroiled tapestries, where what’s described in those lyrical, sumptuous lines of his aren’t necessarily what meets the eye. Somehow, he always manages to pull together the various strands of his narrative and tie them up in a gloriously satisfying bow.”
★★★★ Bouquets & Brickbats