‘A Day at the ReZoo’ review
‘The writing is truly watertight throughout: [they] deserve their flowers for the intellectual comedy, interspersed with joyous pop culture references.’
On a day when the threat of the dreaded Sunday Night Klute looms over one’s evening, it was a joy to spend my Sunday evening at the debut performance of the 2025/26 Durham Revue Troupe, A Day at the Durham ReZoo. The premise for the unusual title is revealed immediately by the Revue’s two Presidents: DST sketch comedy seasoned pros Jude Battersby and Sam Bentley. The Revue troupe, fresh off an award-winning run at the Edinburgh Fringe, has spent all their money and the stars are forced to take up part time work in a zoo to make ends meet.
The returners Battersby and Bentley, along with Alice Barr and Nat Pryke, are joined by four new members: Miranda Pharaoh, Ollie Painter, Bea Pescott-Khan and writer Isaac Slater (although Pryke and Slater were not performing on stage), and it is clear to see the new troupe is more than fit to continue the Revue’s legacy as a pillar of student sketch comedy.
The show opens with Bentley, Battersby, and a plethora of Stormzy quotes. It’s clear these two performers have a natural chemistry and are innately comfortable on stage with each other, immediately reassuring the audience we are in the safest of comedy hands. The remainder of the troupe is revealed through a witty introduction sketch: Pharaoh introduces herself as ‘Jessica’, and Pescott-Khan’s first name, Bea, lends itself to ‘an alphabet joke’, as Battersby gleefully points out. The revue truly come into their own from the beginning, they all have a staggering ease with each other, especially for a troupe that have never performed together before. The self-referential element to their comedy is met with continual laughs from the audience, and the thread of the zoo, which is interspersed throughout the eighty minute set, works beautifully to tie the evening together.
My personal favourite sketch has to be one that came halfway through: led by Bentley and Painter as a set of Year 3 teachers, the premise is a class performance - only instead of being the Nativity, it is, in fact, Waiting for Godot, because of course it is! There is a balance of a natural irony with an earnestness - and the way both performers engage with each other is frequently applauded: near every single joke lands.
Similarly, Barr seems to bound across the stage with an effortless energy, most apparent in her parody of a ‘group of girlies!’ sketch, which is actually a reimagining of Caesar's murder. Supported by Battersby, Pharaoh, and Pescott-Khan as the senators, Barr delivers every line with a manic joy, immediately indicative of the well-known stereotype, and the audience (myself included) laps it up. I never thought I would hear ‘no but, guys, are you mad at me?’ come from the lips of Julius Caesar, but then, it is part of the Revue’s charm to give you exactly what you aren’t expecting.
Pharaoh’s quiet command of the stage must also be applauded: even in the shorter sketches, she has a deliberateness of timing which is hilarious. One highlight is in her impression of a ‘person who has just stepped into a Jacuzzi, and also is in trouble’, where Pharaoh’s character messes up her one line (‘Oh no, I’m in hot water!’), and despite quite literally running off stage, is still able to have an audience in hysterics.
Painter counteracts Pharoah’s natural charm with a kind of seriousness which is equally funny: if you told me my Sunday night would consist of watching him eat two corn on the cobs whilst delivering a eulogy, I wouldn’t have believed you, and frankly I’m not sure I do now. It was as funny as it sounds though, and an audience favourite.
Battersby and Bentley’s double act reoccurs in a brilliant parody of Noah’s Ark: they are stranded bison, but this fact is only revealed near the end of the sketch, forcing you to focus on their character dynamic instead of the narrative. The two work wonderfully together: Battersby’s bison is lively and excitable, whereas Bentley’s is near silent the whole time, lending itself to moments of giggle-inducing awkwardness, especially as Battersby’s internal monologue is played out on stage.
The swiftness of the change in character from the performers must be commended here: Battersby goes from an overexcited bison to Lin-Manuel Miranda writing about Chernobyl (complete with Ali G mustache) in a matter of minutes, countered again by Bentley’s sharp wit. ‘I don’t think you can call Chernobyl ‘this b*tch’, he points out, with a pointed dryness.
Pescott-Khan similarly blossoms in moments of discomfort: in a sketch where she is prisoner 24602 (in a Les Misérables reference), her dedication to the bit, as well as her chemistry with Painter and Pharoah, makes the sketch another favourite. Her physical comedy is great too, especially during a scene where she rebounds off Barr whilst playing a guessing game, where she jumps about in frustration, yelling increasingly more bizarre answers.
The writing is truly watertight throughout: the cast, as well as Slater and Pryke, deserve their flowers for the intellectual comedy, interspersed with joyous pop culture references. The production team tied these together perfectly; the transitions were slick and immediate, matching the fast pace of the sketches well. Overall, it was a fabulous introduction to a staple of DST, and I for one, can’t wait to see the growth of this talented troupe!
By Lottie Roddis.