The Rest of Our Lives ★★★★

Poet Dylan Thomas would never have worried about Jo Fong and George Orange. They aren’t going to go gentle into that good night, and they don’t want you to either.

Not that these ebullient Welsh artists state that directly. That could be painful and pedantic, and their show The Rest of Our Lives strives to be anything but. Instead, and fortunately, this Under the Radar delight at La MaMa is an honest and delightfully silly celebration that asks its audience to find and embrace the slippery joie de vivre whenever and wherever possible.

The production’s primary conceit is an extended pas de deux between two middle-aged performers, Fong, a dancer, and Orange, a circus entertainer. A digital message board asks questions like “What’s the point?”, “Where am I going?”, and “How will I get through this?” as the duo dances to Donna Summer, New Order, Shirley Bassey, J.S. Bach, Henry Purcell, Depeche Mode, and many more. It’s all movement and music; exposition has no place in this space, and the little that is given is grinningly frivolous, as when Fong starts the show announcing, “There is a safe word with this show. The safe word is help.” That’s followed half an hour later with “I was just about to talk about the patriarchy,” a line that earns a huge laugh because it’s clear this is the last thing she wants to discuss unless King Lear himself is going to show up and boogie down.