There’s something deeply and intrinsically absurd about the running of a hotel. The outward veneer of obsequious placation covering a constantly churning machine of people covering up problems is a situation which lends itself easily to parody. As such, it’s no great leap to take that idea and apply it to the deliciously surreal madcappery of a lunar getaway.
It’s almost a Gilliam-esque situation, when young schoolboy Charlie is unfairly told off by his dad for using his phone instead of finishing his homework. This leads to him leafing through an old comic book, through which he finds himself somehow transported to the titular Hotel.
This leads to a series of silly situations, as Charlie mixes with the various patrons of the hotel while the staff try to cover up an increasingly dangerous series of malfunctions which threaten the life of everyone on the moon.
The piece is inventive, colourful, and brilliantly zany, yet there’s a thinness to it. Aside from a thematic motif, which is literally spelled out at one point, there doesn’t seem to be much cohesion to the sporadic events and the brewing cataclysm. This also means the emotional payoff that closes out the piece feels like it comes from nowhere.
That said, the cast are having a whale of a time, and at least every third joke lands with a genuine cackle from the audience. Making this touchdown firmly in the green zone of being very enjoyable, if somewhat unexceptional, Fringe fare.