Geoff Hoyle’s One-Man ‘Geezer’ Provides Laughs, Pathos

Geoff Hoyle portrayed Mr. Sniff in the Pickle Family Circus in San Francisco, Zazu in The Lion King on Broadway, and a bevy of other characters I’ve cherished.

Now he’s portraying Geoff Hoyle.

At least a carnival-mirror version of him (and his anxieties about death lingering in the wings).

His autobiographical solo show, Geezer, is again entrenched at The Marsh, an intimate San Francisco theater. In it, he combines mime, vaudeville, English music hall comedy — and transforms into a rubber-faced, rubber-bodied, one-man sound machine.

His lithe movements and physical one-liners are masterfully choreographed.

I smiled. I chuckled. I guffawed.

Clad in dark slacks and a red shirt, Hoyle friskily pulls elongated invisible hairs from his ear, nostril and chest before playing “Disease: The Video Game,” which becomes an organ recital that includes varicose veins, an enlarged prostate, gingivitis, degenerating spinal discs, diminishing eyesight, osteoporosis, arthritis and dementia.

But, believe it or don’t, he morphs all that into hilarity — even when proclaiming, “Warning: Your warranty expires in 90 days.”

“Is it death we fear,” he eventually ponders, “or just decline?”

But Hoyle’s body is so agile that he belies his 67 years — except for those moments when he whips out a hanky and wipes his sweaty brow and face. His mental agility lets him turn on a dime from skillful comedy to pathos-packed explorations of serious topics such as mortality.

And the death of his English typesetter father at age 60.

Hoyle, in fact, offers a breathholding moment in which one of his hands becomes his father’s, the other his own. The resultant clasp and bonding are pure poignancy.

His more comic instant personality transplants take the form of a blonde bombshell Latin teacher, an aging Minotaur yanked from Greek mythology, a squirrel in a school play, a metaphorical sparrow, and a whimsical glimpse at unrealized characters from a London sitcom and “Masterpiece Theater.”

The showstopper for me, though, was his interpretation of his belly becoming cat-like. My laughter, my wife’s and the crowd’s shook the rafters and then some. Printed words are inadequate to do justice to the sequence; a video might, however, since you then could see and appreciate it.

Hoyle, who studied in Paris with Marcel Marceau’s teacher, Étienne Decroux, also can make an audience squirm — as when he shows his own discomfort during a visit from his adult kids.

“Sit down,” he tells them, “so I can embarrass myself in front of you.”

Also a bit too close for comfort for geezers such as me is his railing against nursing homes. He focuses on the fictitious “Elderado, the elder commune,” drawing huge laughs along the way from a couple of antique jokes.

To wit: “Last night my wife asked me to go upstairs and make love. I said I didn’t know if I could do both.”

This 90-minute show is a re-run of one that debuted at The Marsh in San Francisco in March 2011. It’s still directed by David Ford, who also helped Brian Copeland and Charlie Varon develop their performance art.

But Hoyle is unique.

He can transform a wooden chair — believably — into the prow of a torpedo-endangered ship caught in a storm, a hospital bed and a walker.

Although he was born in Britain, he’s spent most of his life in America — emboldened by two years working with Ed, “the fourth of my artistic fathers” and a short tenure at a commune in the Ozark Mountains.

All his experiences appear to be fodder for his imagination. Boxing and stroking his shadow, for example.

But he covers each post-birth stage of life, his elastic face capturing each phase flawlessly.

Hoyle, who often makes invisible cigarettes real with his expert mime work, infrequently breaks the fourth theatrical wall and interacts with the audience. On one occasion, he asked my wife to tickle him. She was flummoxed, not knowing if he really meant for her to do it. He then mugged derision, which brought yet another laugh from the audience.

His tour de force — which deserves the standing ovation it draws — is often like attending a master class in mime and minimalism.

What Hoyle evokes is so strong that several people could found doubled over at any given point, and the convulsions of a few more turned their glee into pig-like snorts.

The show should be a must for anyone who cares about the aging process, most certainly any man or woman who’s noticed that first wrinkle.

Geoff Hoyle’s Geezer plays at The Marsh, 1062 Valencia St. (at 22nd), San Francisco, through Oct. 26. Performances: 8 p.m. Wednesdays and Thursdays, 5 p.m. Saturdays. Tickets: $25 to $50, (415) 282-3055 or (415) 826-5750 or www.themarsh.org.