“I’m finding there are new things all the time,” Tobias explains of the production’s international appeal, having won rave reviews in Montreal, Ottawa and London. “When you say that you’re doing a show about testicular cancer, people think it’s going to be really dark. But actually, no, it’s a lot of fun, and there are a lot of songs in there. There’s an ’80s rock song, a kind of John Cougar Mellencamp number, and something like Doris Day, this Hollywood Western stuff. There’s an Italian opera, all these different styles. What I’ve found with it is that people respond in quite different ways on different nights. Because the humour is dark, people don’t always laugh in the same places. So it makes it a little bit different to comedy that I’ve done before. It makes it more like storytelling.”
There seems to be a deep-seated evolutionary response to brushing up against death, and that is to find humour in the situation. Given Tobias was already drawn to performance – to musicals, to dance, to monologues – combining these talents into a somewhat autobiographical comedy show was a bit of a no-brainer, and by devising it as a one-hander he is able to swing between platforms with ease.
“[Solo shows] require a different kind of concentration, because you don’t really get a moment to hang back,” he says. “You always have to make sure you’re on top of things. There were several shows that were inspirations to do my own. One was Bryony Kimmings’s show, Credible Likeable Superstar Role Model. I liked the way she moved in different modes and genres without telling you where she was going.”
Part of the unexpected scope of the show is Tobias’ connection with disgraced cyclist Lance Armstrong. The notion of faith is an enduring theme throughout The Orchid and the Crow, and as Tobias began the road to his own cancer treatment and recovery, the journey of fellow cancer survivor Armstrong became a strong parable.
“He really was a textbook modern messiah figure. He was a classic Joseph Campbell hero’s journey story. You couldn’t write it better, and we were all living in it… I went through my treatment with a total brand of confidence that I couldn’t have gone through without his book.”
Yet the burden of someone else’s success can be a difficult yoke. While the events of the show are now twelve years distant, the road from survival to living was not straightforward. Through performance – and the hilarity the show provokes – Tobias maintains a firm connection with those darker times.
“Me going into hospital was the caterpillar going into the cocoon, and I was going to emerge like some wonderful butterfly,” he reflects. “When I came out, it was frustrating. I found myself a year later with depression, a kind of post-traumatic stress, because I hadn’t fixed everything. Things hadn’t magically gotten better. I think things started to change after that. That first year was hard, but it did give me a change to zero in on everything, to lie on a couch for a year and decide what was important. Armstrong was the same. He didn’t immediately get back on the bike and start winning tournaments, it took a lot of training to get back on track. Well, and taking a few drugs.
“It’s really easy, if you do have a brush with death, to maybe make some changes. But as the years go on, we kind of forget about it. It’s like any motivation. It doesn’t last very long, and you really have to keep reminding yourself. So I’m grateful to explore my story, and keep retelling it. I don’t want to lose touch with it.”
BY ADAM NORRIS
