During her introductory preamble Sarah Kendall says her mother has a habit of talking in youth-speak and has been known to exclaim “entertainment to the max”. That phrase does not do justice to this copper-haired comic’s show though. It certainly has plenty of laughs, but also a more serious subtext about the agony of adolescence.
Touchdown is an adroitly crafted monologue about surviving teenage turmoil. It is hard to believe that this elegant Aussie was once an ugly duckling, prematurely tall, sweaty and with braces on her teeth. This is the tale of her friendship with the most glamorous girl in school: “it was like a puma befriending a gerbil,” she recalls. While the story is set in New South Wales it covers universally recognisable rite-of-passage terrain, from dating protocol to classroom confrontations. Kendall has a keen eye for detail. This could be a draft of a novella, as she captures members of the teaching staff in a few deftly chosen words.
It would ruin the drama to reveal too much, but along the way there is a neat dissection of continuity issues in the Jaws film franchise, a waspish take-down of on-screen homophobia in the Nineties and a smutty gag about Madonna that is suddenly more topical than it was when Kendall wrote it.
The disparate elements are all cleverly pulled together towards the end for full comic impact. It is a technique Kendall has used before and it works particularly well here as past and present collide. A funny, heartwarming tale for anyone who has endured heartache growing up. Which is probably everyone.
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