Author: Bouquets & Brickbats

Submarine

14/08/15

The Space On Niddry Street, Edinburgh

Based on Joe Dunthorne’s novel (already made into a successful film by Richard Ayoade) Popcorn Productions have scored a bit of a coup by bringing the very first stage production of Submarine to the Edinburgh Fringe. In the close confines of the Space On Niddry Street, a large cast manage to coax plenty of laughs from a near sold-out audience. As Oliver Tate, Jonas Moore makes a strong impression, getting across the lead character’s various tics and traits with aplomb as he begins a halting (and it must be said, rather weird ) romance with his sulky classmate Jordana (Rachel Kelly). The two leads are ably supported by an energetic young cast who portray his schoolmates, his family and his neighbours.

Most of the real laughter occurs in the first half. As matters become more serious, so the story becomes rather less convincing. Maybe the original tale is simply a little superficial, dealing with quite serious issues in a lightweight manner – and perhaps if everyone in the cast had as much gravitas as Josh Hunter, who plays Oliver’s bewildered father, Lloyd, the show would have had more depth. As it is, this is a charming student production that occasionally fizzes into real life – the ‘lecture’ by local mystic Graham Purvis (Tom Titherington) is a particular highlight, ably abetted by the use of clips from his promotional video.

This is a credible attempt at adapting a source novel into a play and all concerned should feel justifiably proud.

3.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Lungs

14/08/15

Roundabout@Summerhall, Edinburgh

He suggests that they should have a baby – but she has so many reservations. After all, she argues, the world is becoming increasingly polluted and a baby creates an awfully big carbon footprint. ‘Ten thousand tonnes of CO2. That’s the weight of the Eiffel Tower. I’d be giving birth to the Eiffel Tower.’ And… on reflection, maybe the checkout queue at Ikea wasn’t the best place for him to broach the subject in the first place.

On a grey, rainy day in Edinburgh, Lungs by Duncan Macmillan is a breath of fresh air. The witty, sparkling script picks you up by the scruff of the neck and hurls you along in a series of perfectly created flash-forwards as the couple argue, chatter, break up and make up. On route, they suffer all the emotions under the sun as they attempt, by hook or by crook, to become parents. Will they get there? We they end up together? You’ll have to see the play to find out but the snug confines of Paines Plough are the perfect place to watch such a delicious confection and I’m happy to report that the venue was packed. I laughed a lot and in a couple of places my eyes filled with involuntary tears because there are moments in here that everyone can identify with and some moments we all hope we’ll never experience. You’ll emerge from the experience feeling wrung out.

As the young couple, Sian Reece-Williams and Abdul Sallis are every bit as assured as they are in Dennis Kelly’s Our Teacher’s A Troll (also at this venue) and as the story accelerates towards it’s poignant but inevitable conclusion, you’ll be with them every step of the way. Clever, dazzling, intelligent, this is a perfect delight and it’s not to be missed.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Filthy Talk for Troubled Times

13/08/15

Basic Mountain, Venue 106, Hill Street, Edinburgh

Oh, but Phantom Owl are good. Really, they’re very good indeed: the kind of good that makes you want to raid the superlative cupboard and shower them with accolades.

After the glorious Fault Lines, our expectations are running high. This makes us nervous: what if we’re disappointed by the second of their shows? We’re not. If anything, Filthy Talk for Troubled Times is the stronger of the two; it’s a more intense, demanding piece, allowing this ambitious company the space to show what they can do.

We’re in a strip club, as close and complicit as the punters themselves, forced to bear witness to an unflinching exploration of the cruelty and misery gender-roles create. The joyless, transactional nature of human relationships is laid bare by the setting, where the veneer of glamour (exemplified by the topless dancer writhing sensuously on a pole as we enter) is soon worn away, exposing the ugly truth that lies beneath.

These are seriously top-notch actors, exhibiting a level of professionalism it’s rare to see at the fringe. Matthew Lillard’s direction is flawless too: the choreography looks effortless but is perfectly orchestrated; the atmosphere is tawdry and menacing – Neil LaBute’s script expertly brought to life. And what a script it is. Through a series of monologues, we are made privy to the inner thoughts of six disparate characters, and made to confront the unpalatable truths their bravado usually conceals.

Make no mistake, this is not an easy play to watch. There are instances of distinct discomfort, not least when Man 3 (a wonderfully brash Steve Connell) sits right next to us and tells us, laughing, of the time his friend raped two gay men in a park. He makes eye contact, inviting us to sanction the act, which – in a way – we do, smiling awkwardly back at him, rendered somehow powerless by the forces of social convention. It’s too tricky to dissent. This moment stays with me all evening, long after we have left the venue. Really, why did I smile?

Each character is fully realised, both by the script and the performances. These are real people, with all the faults and foibles real people have. The naturalistic acting style is beautifully undercut by the more stylised touches (the way the other characters move or speak in unison whenever Waitress 2 (Zibby Allen) speaks; the way Man 1 (Dean Chekvala) uses the others as models to illustrate his tales). This is ensemble work at its best: a real group endeavour with a lot to say about the way we live. It makes me care for the characters – and question my own world. And surely that’s what theatre is all about?

Phantom Owl is an exciting company, and I’m delighted we chanced upon them. If you see just one thing at the fringe this year, make sure it’s one of theirs.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Chicken

13/08/15

Roundabout@Summerhall, Edinburgh

As we queue to go in to Chicken, the guy on the door gives us a strange warning. ‘If you’re allergic to straw or chicken feathers, don’t sit in the front row,’ he says. As it happens, we’re not, but this must count as a first, even for the Fringe.

Set in a near future dystopia on the Eve of ‘the separation’ – when East Anglia declares it’s independence from the rest of great Britain – the play is an examination of folklore, superstition and ‘Nationalism.’ Emily (Rosie Sheehy) works at a Tesco store, but she has a reputation for not speaking much, preferring instead to sing traditional folk songs and visit the places where witches used to be ‘swum.’ Her father, Harry (Benjamin Dilloway) and Mother, Lorraine (Josephine Butler) both work at a nearby chicken farm (hence the straw and feathers strewn liberally around the stage). Into this setting comes a ‘returner’, Layla (Beth Cooke), who having tried her luck in London has come back to her home town and is eager to reconnect with old crush, Harry. But he’s been dehumanised by his years of organising the slaughter of chickens on a massive scale. Chickens (along with bicycles) are now East Anglia’s biggest export. Meanwhile, Emily seems to be planning something very strange indeed…

The play is beautifully acted by all the cast, but we were somewhat distracted by a noisy fan that blew a stream of cool air into the theatre, making much of the dialogue hard to follow. It was happily dispensed with for the final third, which helped enormously; but I have to admit I found it hard to swallow the play’s conclusion or to feel at all terrorised by the prospect of marauding chickens attacking a family home.

This is a decent play with an intriguing premise. Just make sure you sit well away from that pesky wind machine!

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Sarah Jane Morris

13/08/15

Assembly Rooms, George Street, Edinburgh

Soul, R n’ B and jazz singer, Sarah Jane Morris is a veteran of the music scene and she’s here in Edinburgh to play selections from her latest album, Bloody Rain. The album itself is a collaborative piece, comprising live recordings with a host of musicians including Seckou Keita, Courtney Pine and the Soweto Gospel Choir.

Today, Sarah Jane is is performing ‘unplugged’ with acoustic guitarists Tony Remy and Tim Cansfield and they make a skilful trio, all musically talented, so the sound is superb. It has to be said we like them best when they’re performing covers: a slow soulful version of Nick Cave’s Into My Arms is a thing of beauty and Sarah Jane’s voice is at its best on soul standard Little Piece of My Heart.

Some of the original material though, doesn’t quite hit the mark. Songs about honour killings and the Boko Haram kidnappings are clearly well-intentioned but the lyrics are a bit too sixth form and simplistic to really have much effect.

A few of the Soweto-style numbers were absolutely crying out for a drummer, but overall the undoubted musical ability of the trio meant that most of the songs had the necessary heft. To get the full effect though, you’ll certainly need to check out the album.

3 stars

Philip Caveney and Susan Singfield

Happy Birthday Without You

12/08/15

Roundabout@Summerhall, Edinburgh

Meet Violet Fox, “award-winning-live-and-visual-spoken-word-vegan-solo-artist-and-occasional-collaborator,” with her autobiographical tale of unhappy birthdays and emotional trauma (“Yes, it’s all about meeee!”).

This is a satirical piece, expertly skewering the self-obsessed posing of a certain type of wannabe, and, if this truly original slice of comic nonsense is difficult to categorise, it’s certainly a pleasure to witness it unfold.

Sonia Jalaly, as Violet, is a gifted comedian, with a penchant for wild emoting and exaggerated gesture. This is clowning at its most engaging, and there’s some decent mimicry and singing here as well, with pastiches of Marilyn Monroe, Judy Garland, Julie Andrews and Shirley Bassey, cleverly woven into the narrative. There are beautifully clumsy references to Plath and Woolf as well, underlining both Violet’s pretentiousness and her immaturity. There’s a lot going on within this script.

The play works well in the round, and Jalaly uses the space effectively, laying out her boxes (‘This is my emotional baggage”) and props to create a real sense of her myopic, chaotic world. The mother character is evoked by a scrunched up facial expression and the use of two cigarettes as props, and the climactic moment when we, the audience, become involved, is deflated instantly by Violet’s joyful declaration: “Oooh, immersive!” We are reminded, all the time, that Violet has one eye on the way her performance makes her look, however personal the story that she is telling us.

If there’s any criticism here, it’s that it’s all perhaps a bit one-note. It might be more compelling if our empathy were allowed to develop further on occasion – before the balloons are popped.

This is a funny and entertaining performance, and deserves to be seen by a bigger crowd than is here tonight. Make the trip; you won’t be disappointed.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Citizen Puppet

12/08/15

Pleasance Beyond, Edinburgh

As the name suggests, Blind Summit’s production is indeed a puppet show – but set aside all preconceptions of Punch and Judy. These ‘extreme puppets’ are quite remarkable creations, with facial characteristics so lifelike you quickly start to think of them as actors – and they’re expertly voiced by a team of black-clad operators with hooded faces. Five performers manage to operate nine characters between them and what’s more the whole enterprise is backed up by a witty and inventive script.

The community of Massiveville is in turmoil. In the middle of the night, somebody has chopped down the giant beanstalk that used to stand in the town square and now the body of a massive giant is stretched out across the supermarket car park. But what has happened to the town’s number one citizen, Jack, the man who has been dispensing golden eggs to all and sundry? Could he have anything to do with this? And why is he nowhere to be found?

The story is presented in the way that a contemporary scandal might be aired now – complete with people getting selfies in front of the dead giant and the local police searching for clues to the identity of the perpetrator. We’re told that what we’re actually watching here is a piece of theatre devised around real events and directed by the twitchy, pill-popping loner. ‘Daz,’ the town’s resident weirdo and is essentially a series of monologues presented directly to the audience.

It’s a neat twist on the familiar fairy tale and the effect is only slightly marred by the fact that the venue is so hot – I really felt for the operators, sweating in their head-to-toe black Lycra. Parents thinking that this might be good bet to entertain very young children should be warned that with it’s serious themes and punchy script, Citizen Puppet is better suited to adult audiences.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Every Brilliant Thing

12/08/15

Roundabout@Summerhall, Edinburgh

Co-written by Duncan McMillan and Jonny Donahoe, Every Brilliant Thing is a lively, witty, interactive performance – about depression.

Jonny Donahoe, who performs the one-man show, is an engaging actor; he has an innate charm that ensures the audience complies happily with his requests.

This is a poignant and funny play, taking us through the protagonist’s experiences of living with a suicidal mother, when he’s seven and his dad tells him, “Mum’s done something stupid,” to the dark realities of adult life and his attempts to make this palatable by writing a list of everything that’s good. Members of the audience are called upon to provide props, read aloud items from the list, as well as to play supporting roles (his dad, his counsellor, his university sweetheart). I don’t know if all audiences would respond with such alacrity as one at the Edinburgh Fringe (not a shy or reluctant participant among us!) but it’s an effective method of drawing us in; of making us want everything to turn out well.

This really is a delightful production: superbly acted in a knockout space. Go see it if you can.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Restaurant Mark Greenaway

11/08/15

North Castle Street, Edinburgh

So, you know how it is, you’re deeply embroiled in the Edinburgh Festival, you’re running from one show to another and it’s your first wedding anniversary. Why not, we thought, eat somewhere we haven’t reviewed yet? And rather than return to Bistro Moderne in Stockbridge where we celebrated our marriage, let’s visit its sister restaurant, Restaurant Mark Greenaway, up on Castle street. A good plan, we thought and made the booking.

The restaurant is more formal than it’s relaxed sibling, with a slightly austere feel. The place is completely deserted when we arrive, at 5.30, but soon fills up with a collection of (it has to be said) rather glum-looking punters who don’t appear to have very much to say to each other; but the staff are friendly enough and service is attentive. Since we’re on a tight budget, we opt for the market menu which offers three courses for £22 with an accompanying wine ‘flight’ for £18.

The starters duly arrive and look like little works of art. Susan has the Comfit Gartmont Farm Duck Terrine, which is accompanied by gingerbread, plum gel and foraged Scottish herbs. The terrine is lip-smackingly moist and full flavoured. The idea of serving it with gingerbread is inspired. It shouldn’t really work but somehow does. I sample the Smoked Salmon Canneloni (see picture) with sauce gribiche, saffron mayonnaise and mini melba toast. The powerful salty flavour of the salmon filling is perfectly cut by the accompanying white wine, (proof once again that a good Somellier is a fine thing indeed and Restaurant Mark Greenaway has not one, but two of them, who clearly know a thing or two about their subject and are happy to share their knowledge.)

On to the main courses. Susan chose Baked Fillet of Plaice, accompanied by sweet Cicely gnocchi, clam chowder and vanilla foam. The over-abundant foam seemed to us a slight misstep, the flavour more appropriate for a pudding, but the dish was otherwise perfectly cooked, the fish melt-in-the-mouth soft and the creamy clam chowder satisfyingly sticky. I had the 11 Hour Slow Roasted Pork Belly, served with spiced fillet, savoy cabbage, pommel pureé and toffee apple jus (see picture). This was note perfect, though I fear I caused some raised eyebrows when I requested a bowl of mustard (that’s just me. To my mind, meat without mustard is like… rhubarb without custard).

Speaking of which, for my dessert, accompanied by a thick, sweet wine, I had Rhubarb and Custard with sweet granola, poached rhubarb, custard espuma and rhubarb sorbet. It was, to be honest, quite delicious, the lightly cooked chunks of rhubarb giving the meal a delightful crunch and the sorbet definitely of the ‘Mmm’ variety. I made short work of it. Susan, meanwhile had the Dark Chocolate Fondant (for which the diner must allow fifteen minutes preparation time). This came surrounded by salted caramel, coffee macaroons, burnt white chocolate and vanilla ice cream. It was every bit as delightful as it sounds though the fondant itself was of the (slightly disappointing) miniature variety. Which is not to say that we were left hungry by any stretch of the imagination. But we could have managed a bit more of that fondant. Easily.

All in all, this was a satisfying meal and if I have a criticism of the restaurant, it’s simply that its staid, rather stuffy atmosphere belongs to a bygone age. Would it harm to relax a little? Maybe even introduce some background music? Just a thought. As for the food (that slightly odd vanilla foam aside) the restaurant’s reputation is clearly well-founded.

Would we recommend it? Hell yes.

4.3 stars

Philip Caveney

Stewart Lee: A Room With a Stew

11/08/15

Assembly Rooms, George Street, Edinburgh

“No one is equipped to review me,” says Stewart Lee – and I doubt I’m the first reviewer to feel compelled to include the line in my review. And he’s right, in a way; he’s fiercely intellectual, this comedian, and I’m sure he could shoot down in flames any criticism I might make.

It’s fortunate, then, that I don’t have much to criticise; we’re already fans; we went to this show secure in the knowledge we would like it. It’s our wedding anniversary, after all (we got married a year ago, while at the Fringe), so of course we chose a show we knew we’d relish; we wanted to enjoy the day.

We’ve seen this show before, or, at least, we’ve seen a show with the same title and a few of the same routines. That was back in March at the Lowry in Salford, where – although the material was as deft and challenging as you might expect – the room was too big, and the whole thing felt a little too remote.

Not that Lee is aiming for ‘engaging’ or ‘crowd-pleasing;’ he references Brecht’s Verfremdungseffekt, and it’s certainly a technique he likes to employ, simultaneously haranguing his audience for being “the wrong sort” and appealing to the vanity in all of us when he says those wrong ’uns are “not like my core audience: those of you who understand what it is I do.” We all want to be in Stewart’s gang; we all want to be clever enough to be in on the joke.

The second half of the show is my favourite: Lee’s quest to mine the “lucrative Islamophobic observational comedy market,” along with his trademark meta-commentary on the very idea of jokes, is just breath-taking, really: it’s rigorous, uncomfortable, demanding – and very funny.

It’s Stewart Lee; of course it is.

5 stars

Susan Singfield