BWW Reviews: FRANKLAND & SONS, Camden People's Theatre, 10 January 2012

Is there such a thing as an ordinary family? When I was growing up, ordinary families were everywhere - in sitcoms, outside schools and, best of all, profiled on budget day when their income would, after numbers were crunched, graphs consulted and experts quizzed and quizzed and quizzed, rise by 15p per week one March, then drop by 15p per week the next March. Things are different now - dysfunctional families sprawl across daytime TV with DNA tests to prove it and families come in as many varieties as a range of upmarket jelly beans. Families in the 21st century are as complex as Dickens made them in the 19th century - or, maybe, we can just see families more clearly again now.

In Frankland & Sons (at Camden People's Theatre until 28 January) John Frankland and his son Tom explore the ties that bind families together, the hopes that are realised and the hopes dashed, and the mistakes made and mended. Through a mix of mime, clowning, storytelling, stand-up, really, really bad Basil Fawlty impressions and dance, we are introduced to three generations of Franklands through the letters inherited on the death of Barbara, aged 80 in 2006. Their ordinary, extraordinary story unfolds with wit and wisdom, and no little charm, sentimentality always held at arm's length.

At the heart of the tale is the universality of human relationships - each is unique, yet somehow they are all the same; everyone needs love, and we all get it in different ways. John and Tom supplement their dramatic presentation by requiring us, on the other side of the fourth wall, to write down various memories which intersperse their own: capturing parallels; enhancing differences; aligning our personal experiences with theirs.

Because the two men have a lot of fun, so do we. Because the two men confront their own family's ups and downs with honesty and trust, so do we; and because the two men have plenty to say, we come away with plenty to think about. If you have one, go with a son of your own - I did and was pleased that he saw what we will be like 17 years from now. If we're as lucky as John and Tom.