The Bob Ross Effect

The Bob Ross Effect sees Sarah-Louise Young work through grief through the mellifluous tones and wholesome innuendos of big-haired heartthrob Bob Ross. Young, donning the wig and Daytona accent, transforms in front of our eyes into the spiritual guru-stroke-painter himself, complete with fan-brush burlesque, turning the stage into a sort of live Bob Ross show.

The audience are given clipboards, paper and pots of crayons as they enter, invited to embrace their inner artist-come-child. As we build on another audience member’s misshapen line to make something beautiful, or trace our faces with closed eyes, the participation is designed into the show, but Young’s disarming presence makes it feel neither threatening nor demanding.

There are rather a lot of threads here. There is Bob Ross, of course, but also Fringe royalty Lynn Ruth Miller makes her appearance (not to mention Guy Masterson), while Young spins the palettes of the loss of family and friends together with her own relationship with art. The connection is loss and art as its guide, but the canvas is not always tightly stretched. The Fringe material in particular risks becoming a little insular if you do not know the people being discussed.

The Bob Ross innuendos can also become a little much, particularly when the sweetness of the character is already doing the work. However, Young's positive meditation on grief is more affecting. Her will to survive through and for art makes an inspiring story, with clever animations lending memories a nice visual life. Bob Ross acts as an awkward mascot for all of this, somehow leading the meditation circle on life, art, and death, all from an easel in the middle of the stage.

The Bob Ross Effect by Suzanna Rosenthal Productions. Credit Damian Robertson.