Month: August 2022

Kylie Brakeman: Linda Hollywood’s Guide to Hollywood

12/08/22

Gilded Balloon (Patter Hoose), Chambers Street, Edinburgh

Kylie Brakeman hits the modestly-sized stage of the Patter Hoose like an unstoppable force. 

She’s in character as Linda Hollywood, a venal, self-aggrandising (and ultimately deluded) talent agent, ready to dish the dirt on current clients and always on the lookout for fresh meat. This is her seminar on how to succeed in the town that’s named after her. Wait till you hear about her plans for the relaunch of “Harry Potter’s assistant,” Rupert Grint!

Brakeman throws other characters into the mix, barely stopping to take a breath. A six-year-old stand-up? Yes! A sex therapist who speaks in a series of euphemisms? Right here! And now Linda’s back to direct a guy she’s randomly selected from the audience through his ’screen career,’ from entry level Doritos advert to Oscar winning triumph and beyond – in just five minutes!

Making her Edinburgh Fringe debut, Brakeman delivers her cleverly scripted lines with consummate skill, and the whip-smart, snarky one-liners flow like honey laced with vinegar. It’s more than just a series of laughs. It also nails the cynicism and hypocrisy of the movie industry with deadly precision.

I leave convinced that Brakeman (already a major name online, with over sixty million views) is destined to play much bigger venues than this one. 

So catch her superb show now in the intimate setting of The Gilded Balloon. Who knows? You could be Linda Hollywood’s next big thing!

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Ellie MacPherson: Happy Birthday, Mr. President!

11/08/22

Underbelly Cowgate (Big Belly), Edinburgh

Ellie MacPherson is a new name to me but, from the moment she saunters onto the stage, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, to deliver the titular song, I’m sold. She has a cheery personality and and a grin radiant enough to light up even the dingy, malodorous setting of Big Belly – one of the Fringe’s less inviting venues. She’s accompanied by a three-piece band, all dressed like CIA goons, complete with dark glasses – a nice touch.

Happy Birthday, Mr President! is a mash up: part history lesson, part stand-up, part cabaret set – and the fact that all the pieces fit so perfectly together, is testament to MacPherson’s evident skills. In one hour, she skips merrily through the forty-five American presidents (thus far), lingering here and there on more interesting aspects of their personalities.

I’m surprised (and slightly embarrassed) to learn how many of them I’ve never even heard of and I’m amazed to learn that so many of them had… issues. A president who couldn’t read or write? How does that work? One who liked to swim naked every day. Erm, sure, why not? And one who took a little girl as his ward and married her just as soon as she was old enough? Ewww. The song McPherson chooses to illustrate this story has never sounded quite so disturbing.

It helps that MacPherson has a terrific voice and a genuinely thrilling vocal range. My initial doubts that she can comfortably cram all those disparate characters into one hour are quickly dispelled. This is a terrific show: absorbing, informative and often laugh-out-loud funny.

Catch it if you can.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Chris Dugdale: Ethermind

11/08/22

Assembly Rooms (Drawing Room), George Street, Edinburgh

We’re already approaching the end of the first week of the Fringe. Our feet are just about walked off, we’re knackered, but we’re happy, because Fringe is back in full swing and we’ve seen some incredible new acts – plus a few familiar favourites. Chris Dugdale definitely falls into the latter category. We first caught his act way back in 2015 and he’s a been a fixture on our schedule ever since. It’s not that we’re fans of magic, per se, but there’s something about this magician that just clicks with us. The cheery patter, his likeable personality – and the fact that he never ever fails to astonish us.

His speciality is close-up magic. He even provides a video camera, trained on his hands, as he goes through an extended card routine with an astonished young lad picked from the crowd. ‘I want to show you a trick,’ says Chris. And we gasp out loud. How does he do that? Every time I think, ‘I’ll really concentrate this time and I’ll see how he gets that card into the box without even touching it. One year, he’ll let his guard down and I’ll catch him out.’

And every year, I’m just as baffled.

And then there’s the mind-reading tricks, the way he seems able to reach into your head and make you do stuff that you cannot rationally explain. Remember the old familiar trick your granddad did when he pulled a coin from your ear at Christmas parties? Mr D gives the routine a fresh new twist and puts you right back in that enchanted state of mind you had in childhood

But listen, I’m not going to bore on about this. If you see only one magician at the Fringe this year, there’s a logical choice. Now concentrate! I want you to picture something. Are you concentrating? I’m seeing a name in my mind… it’s appearing gradually in front of you, like something approaching through a dust storm. It’s taking shape… Can you see it now? Correct!

The name is CHRIS DUGDALE. Now go grab a ticket before they sell out.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

The Actress

11/08/22

Underbelly Bristo Square (Dairy), Edinburgh

It’s 1660, Charles II has claimed the throne and, after eighteen long years of bans and closures, the theatres of London are finally open again – but something is different. This time, women are allowed on stage. Written and directed by Andrew Pearson-Wright, Long Lane Theatre Company’s The Actress focuses on the first of these new performers, highlighting the issues they faced and their determination to succeed.

Theatre was still tightly governed, and only two royal patents were issued: one to Sir Thomas Killigrew (Andrew Loudon), the other to his competitor, Sir William Davenant. This story, however, focuses on two women who present themselves to Killigrew, Anne Marshall (Charlotte Price) and Margaret Hughes (Eva Pearson-Wright), both vying for the accolade of being the first woman on the English stage.

They couldn’t be more different. While Anne is only eighteen years old, an intellectual, bookish kind of girl, Margaret is thirty and a woman of the world, a courtesan, who has travelled to Paris and Amsterdam, and is mistress to a prince. Pearson-Wright’s well-crafted script presents a complex, nuanced relationship: the two are competitors but also reluctant allies, aware that their gender both separates and binds them. Anne helps Margaret towards a deeper understanding of Shakespeare, while Margaret pushes Anne to be more assertive. They’re both fighting a losing battle to be taken seriously – “Men have to want to fuck her!” says the wonderfully boorish theatre patron, Charles Sedley (Matthew Hebden) – but at least they’re not being ignored, unlike Anne’s illiterate friend (Hattie Chapman), who’s working backstage all hours, waiting in the wings…

There’s a lot to admire here. The writing is strong: the play is pacy and the storyline is clear and engaging. The characterisation is also assured, and Price in particular stands out, imbuing Marshall with a disquieting intensity. The small stage is well-utilised and never feels cluttered, even when there are five actors almost filling it; the movement is dynamic and everything flows well.

I’m a little uncomfortable with the dressing room scenes, however. It’s a fascinating (and disturbing) period detail: apparently, men could pay to sit backstage and watch the actresses undress. These are important moments, and certainly need to be included in the play, but I don’t know why the women need to actually be topless; it feels as exploitative as the sleaze it’s supposed to be skewering. This level of realism doesn’t sit well in a production where moustaches on hand-held sticks are employed to differentiate between male roles.

That aside, The Actress is an interesting and compelling play, shedding light on an important piece of theatre history.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Half-Empty Glasses

11/08/22

Roundabout at Summerhall, Edinburgh

Toye (Samuel Tracy) is sixteen years old and good at just about everything he turns his attention to. A piano exam for a prestigious private school is fast approaching, and his best friends, Ash (Sara Hazemi) and Remi (Princess Khumalo), have learned to accept that he has to devote long hours of his spare time to piano practice. But not everything in Toye’s life is perfect. His father is gradually declining, thanks to Parkinson’s disease, and Toye is grimly aware of a gulf opening up between them.

And then, after reading a whole pile of books about black history, Toye suddenly decides he wants to change the world – to become a black activist.

He enlists Ash and Remi to help him and holds an impromptu meeting at his school at lunchtime, talking about black cultural icons, but quickly realises that it’s not enough. He has to reach more people, make real changes! His increasing obsession alienates first Remi, who – as head girl – feels compromised by his planned events, and then Ash, who is of Middle Eastern descent and is aware her own issues are being side-lined. Toye struggles on alone but is in danger of putting his musical ambitions at risk…

Half-Empty Glasses by Dipo Baruwa-Etti is a fascinating and beautifully nuanced play that gradually exerts a powerful grip over the audience’s emotions, making its complex themes easy to navigate. The depiction of Toye’s father – either Hazemi or Khumala speaking quietly into a microphone – is a simple stroke of genius, effortlessly demonstrating the distance between father and son. And I love Toye’s reactions to the music he’s making, the way it orders his world, helps him to navigate his way through life. When things start to go wrong, the discords this generates are genuinely jarring.

Sensitively directed by Kaleya Baxe and with superb musical input by Roly Botha, this is an absolute delight from start to finish. Hats should also be raised to the young cast who, as well as starring in Half-Empty Glasses are also appearing daily in two other superb plays at Paines Plough, working their collective socks off. We’ve yet to see a disappointing production at Roundabout and this year their offerings are flying particularly high.

Don’t miss your chance to see what they have to offer.

4.7 stars

Philip Caveney

Fills Monkey: We Will Drum You

10/08/22

Pleasance Courtyard (Grand), Edinburgh

Back in the day, I was one of those guys who liked to get wasted and hang out with musicians. You know? A drummer. So the idea of Fills Monkey really appeals to me. Two guys hitting the skins for an hour? Sign me up! But is that enough to fill an entire slot on the Edinburgh Fringe?

The answer is a resounding ‘YES!’ Sebastian Rambaud and Yann Coste are two brilliant percussionists, the kind of people you imagine could go through an entire day without ever breaking beat. They begin with conventional sets of drums, hammering out thrilling polyrhythms as the audience claps along. But they have an air of competitiveness about them and the stakes keep rising. Did you know that drums can be played with a whole variety of implements. Pan scrubbers. Hammers. Food mixers. A chain saw?

It really helps that the two percussionists are also accomplished clowns. Working under the direction of Daniél Briere, they’ve devised a show that switches back and forth through a whole series of scenarios, never lingering too long in one place to ever feel repetitive. Once the conventional drums have been battered into submission, there are synth drums to play with, voice recorders and a whole package of technical wonders that allow the two men to play entire rock songs just by hitting things. And it’s amazing how many classic rock songs can be identified by their beat alone.

The audience at The Grand are lapping it up – particularly the youngsters. (Seriously, if you have energetic kids along with you this is the perfect show for them.) The frenzy steadily rises to a suitably spectacular crescendo.

A final thought. If you’re suffering from the effects of a hangover, this might not be the best show for you – but, if you like your entertainment loud, reckless and super bombastic, Fills Monkey should definitely be on your ‘to see’ list. They promise to drum and and they do it with aplomb.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Jo Caulfield: Here Comes Trouble

10/08/22

The Stand Comedy Club (Stand 1), Edinburgh

With over 3000 shows to choose from at the Fringe, we usually try to avoid seeing the same performers every year, but there are a few exceptions. Like moths to bright flames, we keep coming back to see the latest offerings from Richard Herring, Paines Plough, Flabbergast, Chris Dugdale – and, of course, Jo Caulfield.

Comedy is a broad church, and we have catholic tastes. For us, Caulfield falls into the ‘Mary’s Milk Bar ice cream’ category, i.e. an Edinburgh classic promising pure enjoyment. You know what you’re getting and it never disappoints.

She takes a few moments to check out her audience (who’s seen her before, where people have come from) and then cautions us at the top: “What I do is, I talk about myself and about who’s annoyed me since last year. That’s what this is. You won’t learn anything”. Well, good. I like life-lesson comedy, but I don’t want it all the time. Caulfield is an entertainer, and I’m ready to be entertained.

And we’re off. The laughs keep coming, thick and fast. She’s an expert; she knows exactly how to make her material fly: when to push the boundaries and when to rein things in. The topics are wide-ranging – from her mum’s favourite TV programmes to nationalising the railways; from irksome neighbours to European mini-breaks – and all skewered with her trademark caustic wit. Her onstage persona is blisteringly impatient. “Fuck off!” she roars on more than one occasion, irritated by the idiocy – and sometimes mere existence – of other people (and crafters in particular). But there’s always that twinkle, that sly charm, that means she gets away with it.

We were tired when we arrived. Now we’re energised. We leave smiling, and head off to the pub.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

A Sudden Violent Burst of Rain

10/08/22

Roundabout at Summerhall, Edinburgh

Sami Ibrahim’s play is a fable about immigration. We meet Elif (Sara Hazemi) as a teenager, newly washed up on the shores of a mythical island. She finds work with a rich landowner, herding and shearing sheep, spinning clouds from their wool. It’s a solitary life. But then she meets the landowner’s son (Samuel Tracy) and she’s smitten, and her story spirals out of control.

At first, this feels like a fairytale. The language is lyrical and there’s magic in the air. Elif is a sweet-natured dreamer, happy to accept her lot; a heroine in the Cinderella mould. Soon, though, reality intervenes. Elif has a baby, and the landowner’s son has gone.

Elif’s daughter, Lily (Princess Khumalo), is more down-to-earth, more practical than her mum. She recognises the stories for what they are and calls bullshit. She can’t escape them though: Elif isn’t ‘registered’, and if she’s not, then nor can Lily be. The clock is ticking down to Lily’s eighteenth birthday. Unless she’s registered by then, she has no right to stay.

This is an ingenious way to convey the absurdity of the UK’s immigration system. Couched in the apparel of a fairytale, it heightens our sense of right and wrong. We recognise the innocent persecuted heroine; we know that she’s supposed to win. We also know the villains and that they’re supposed to lose. But, despite Elif’s best efforts, that’s not what’s happening. The parallels are all too obvious. What sort of people are we, always letting the baddies win?

At the beginning, the three storytellers are all enthusiastic, clamouring to have their voices heard, each wanting to tell their version of the tale; by the end, even Elif can’t spin a yarn that’s strong enough to cast away the clouds. She desperately articulates her vision of Utopia, but harsh reality intrudes into her imagination, corrupting her dream.

This ensemble piece by Paines Plough is every bit as inventive and compelling as we’ve come to expect, and Yasmin Hafesji’s direction is both playful and assured. I especially love the use of props, with wooden sheep, a balloon and a Matryoshka all adding to the folk-tale tone. The muted colour palette – all greys and browns – evokes the misery of a rain-soaked isle, as does the muted lighting (by Rory Beaton).

Ibrahim has successfully created a kind of whimsical polemic. I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

Emily Wilson: Fixed

09/08/22

Pleasance Courtyard (Beneath), Edinburgh

Emily Wilson’s Fixed is part musical, part stand-up and part catharsis. Clearly a born performer, Wilson takes us on a tour of her youth, from beaming toddler to broken teen. It’s all been chronicled, of course: she’s 26 years old, a whole lifetime of phone recordings and insta-chats and YouTube videos. Oh, and primetime national TV too.

That’s the crux of the story: Wilson appeared on The X Factor USA in 2011, as one half of the earnestly named duo, Ausem. “Because my best friend’s called Austin, and my name’s Emily, so together we’re Ausem!” She thought her dreams had come true: she was 15 and destined to become a star. But then they hit a snag. The judges decided they liked Austin, but not Emily…

Wilson’s tale, co-written and directed by Sam Blumenfeld, is compelling. She’s a vivacious, funny, talented woman – and, while she’s disarmingly self-deprecating, she’s justifiably pissed off. The X Factor nearly destroyed her. How is a child supposed to process such public humiliation? How do the powerful adults in charge legitimise hurting her for viewing figures, for more dollars in their bulging bank accounts? Do the haters on social media sleep well at night, knowing they’ve made a young girl cry?

The past is detailed via a series of video clips and diary entries, interspersed with stand-up and original songs revealing Wilson’s current perspective. What emerges is a thoughtful commentary on fame, ambition and exploitation, and it’s riveting.

Oh, and she really can sing. Whatever Nicole Sherzinger says.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Flesh

09/08/22

TheSpace@SurgeonsHall, Edinburgh

The names Burke and Hare are infamous in Edinburgh – and I’m not referring to the lap-dancing club that (chillingly) chooses to name itself after two of history’s most prolific serial killers. Their story is fascinating (indeed, I’ve featured the duo myself in my novel, Seventeen Coffins). The Fringe has always offered a platform to am-dram theatre groups and it’s gratifying to see this ambitious musical version of the tale selling out the spacious venue on a Tuesday afternoon.

Co-written by John Montgomery and Derek Batchelor, Flesh relates the story in flashback, explaining how two Irish navvies, working on the digging of the Union Canal, came to murder sixteen people and sell their bodies for dissection. Billy Burke (Jeremy Frazer) was outwardly affable and charming, while his associate, William Hare (Roddy McLeod), was the complete opposite. How they came to work with the well respected anatomist, Dr Robert Knox (Frank Burr), would seem far-fetched if it weren’t absolutely true and, while a little bit of poetic licence has been used here, the story sticks pretty much to the facts. And how apt that the show appears at Surgeon’s Hall, where much of the subterfuge occurred.

References to contemporary tropes – Netflix, zero-hours contracts and luxury cruises all receive a namecheck – are at first jarring but, once the idea beds in, I begin to appreciate the writer’s intentions.

This is a big cast by Fringe standards – fifteen actors in all – so there’s a lot of stage traffic, and this isn’t always well-managed. Scene changes are a real issue: there are too many extended blackouts disrupting the flow (the design of the venue doesn’t help, with props – and sometimes bodies – being dragged off through the central curtains into a clearly lit backstage). Incorporating the transitions into the scenes would improve this enormously.

Niggles aside, everyone involved in the show gives one hundred percent. I particularly enjoy Alison Henry as Burke’s long-suffering partner, Nell (her rendition of No-one Was Listening is delightful) and Tegan Gourlay’s dancing is also a standout.

But this, of course, is a musical version of the story and, happily, the songs are the show’s strongest suit, ranging from poignant ballads to swaggering Celtic rock that sometimes recalls Thin Lizzy at the peak of their considerable powers.

The applause at the show’s conclusion is enthusiastic and heartfelt and I find myself humming the infectious chorus of Sailing to America as I leave. Those who’d like to take home an extra pound of Flesh are invited to purchase a CD of the soundtrack. And why not? They’re cracking tunes.

3 stars

Philip Caveney