Theatre

44 Inch Chest

19/08/19

theSpace on North Bridge, Edinburgh

Colin Diamond (Liam Willatt) discovers that his wife, Liz (Holly McLachlan), is having an affair – and he doesn’t take it well. He’s had the luckless ‘Loverboy’ (Simon Burke) roughed up and locked in a wardrobe by his gang of mates – and now they’re waiting around for Colin’s arrival, drinking booze and working themselves up to  cheering him on to commit murder. The gang comprises Old Man Peanut (Lee Barden), Mal (David Guy), Archie (Harvey Seymour) and Meredith (Jake Williams). A more unsavoury bunch of villains would be hard to imagine. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to spend time with any of these people. Colin arrives and, much to Peanut’s disgust, it looks as though he’s having second thoughts about killing Loverboy. And then Liz turns up, and the balance of power begins to shift.

Abridged from an unproduced original play by David Scinto and Louis Mellis, which was itself turned into a 2009 film starring Ray Winstone and John Hurt, this is something of a coup for Out of Bounds Theatre, who have scored themselves a world premiere with this production. It’s a hardcore stew of toxic masculinity that comes across like Harold Pinter with added effing and jeffing, but – once you’ve accustomed yourself to that unflinching invective – there’s a brutal kind of lyricism to what unfolds. The performances are strong, with Willatt and Barden on particularly good form, and McLachen is a tremendously calming presecence amidst all that machismo. I like the inventive direction that uses light to delineate different locations in an unusually stylistic manner.  I also enjoy Peanut’s sweary retelling of the story of Samson and Delilah.

There’s an interesting ambiguity to the play’s conclusion, but the final applause is well earned, and those looking for a slice of powerful drama in the final week of the Fringe could certainly do a lot worse than this.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

 

To Move in Time

19/08/19

Summerhall (Techcube 0), Edinburgh

To Move in Time is a prose-poem written by Tim Etchells and performed by Tyrone Huggins. In it, Huggins meditates on the various possibilities of what he might achieve if only he had the ability to travel backwards and forwards in time. The options range from the profound – preventing wars and plagues – to the more mundane – ensuring that Rick Astley never gets to record Never Gonna Give You Up.

As the piece developes, Huggins ties his brain (and consequently ours) into complex knots, as he struggles to keep control of all the loose ends that his meddling might create. And what if all his valiant struggles are in vain?

Though nicely performed and beautifully written, the piece is rather one-note in its approach and feels somewhat overstretched at an hour in duration. It would benefit, I think, from developing its subject matter onto different themes, but it stays resolutely on the same track and arrives pretty much at an inevitable conclusion.

The deep thinkers and philosophers out there might enjoy this piece rather more than I do. I’m afraid I belong to the ‘brain in knots’ cohort.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Shine

18/09/19

Zoo Southside (Studio), Edinburgh

Once in a while you stumble across a show at the Fringe that thrills you with its invention and sheer originality. Shine is just such a show – brought to the Fringe by From Start to Finnish, it’s a triumphant slice of immersive theatre. Indeed, my only criticism is that the title is deceptive, giving none of the flavour of this dark, powerful slice of psychological drama. Much of that power comes from its unusual staging.

As we take our seats in the studio theatre, we cannot fail to notice that a set of headphones is hooked over the back of every seat. We are instructed to put on the headphones. The lights dim and the drama begins.

This is a story about the disappearance of a little girl. The child’s parents, played by Olivier Leclair and Tiia-Mari Mäkinen are making love when she calls out to them in the night and they ignore her cries. The following morning, she is gone. When the official search is eventually called off, her father becomes obsessed with finding her – and his obsessive search leads him on a long, dark descent into madness…

If the story sounds familiar, the telling is anything but. Leclair and Makinen unfold their story through the medium of dance and mime, accompanied by an evocative soundtrack, every move they make perfectly synchonised to the sighs/screams/whispers that fill my ears. This has all the powerful intensity of a first-class ghost story. The hauntings are largely in the characters’ heads; nevertheless, there are scenes here that are incredibly chilling. This is a world where even an innocent piece of chalk can become an uncontrollable weapon, where the simple act of pouring a glass of water can take on a sinister subtext. I sit transfixed, completely involved right up to the (weirdly) uplifting conclusion.

There are just a few days left to check out this startling slice of theatre. The clock is ticking… listen… can you hear it?

Don’t worry, you will.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Shellshock!

18/08/19

The Greenhouse (Pleasance Pop-Up), Dynamic Earth, Edinburgh

Written and directed by Louis Catliff, Shellshock! is a funny, endearing musical, with a serious message but a playful tone. Shelly (Alex Duckworth) is a hopeful young ecology graduate, recruited as an intern for GLG, an oil company with a spillage problem. She thinks she’s there to help them reform, but they’re only interested in greenwashing their image. So far, so predictable. But when ruthless CEO Venetia Von Van Clief (Phoebe Angeni), German mentor Jeremy (Daniel Heidlandn), secret agent Darryl (Molly Williams), animal rights activist Glen (Elliot Douglas) and a Galápagos ‘turtle’ (Catliff) are added to the mix, it’s pretty clear this is going to be a quirky ride.

Zero-waste venue, The Greenhouse, is an ideal space for this play by BoxedIn Theatre. We queue outside in glorious sunshine but, just as we’re entering the little wooden hut, a light rain begins to fall. Before long, as we’re watching the performance, there’s a downpour, the drops bouncing off the clear perspex roof, our eyes drawn to the grey sky above. As the characters sing about covering up the damaging effects of their industry, we’re acutely aware of our environment. Ten minutes later, we’re reaching for our sunglasses as the clouds break and the light pours in. There’s no hiding from the world in here.

The music, written and performed by Joseph Baker on guitar, is charming: a little bit folksy, a little bit blues, even a little bit hip-hop at one point. It suits the story and its Louisiana setting. The singing is also uniformly strong, although a special mention must be given to Angeni and her super-impressive vocal chops. The ‘turtle’ is very funny too, effectively conveyed by Catliff donning a green T-shirt and adopting a tense crouch.

I like the story: it meanders a little, but is always engaging, the dubious nature of the characters’ motivations exposed through sharp humour. It takes me a while to understand the dramatic purpose of Glen, the inept animal rights activist, but I come to realise that he’s a means of critiquing dogma – that he and Venetia Von Van Clief are united by their zealotry, and their inability to see a picture bigger than their own obsessions.

This is a lovely little play in a fascinating (and much-needed) venue.

(For more details about The Greenhouse, check out our other blog here: https://thezerowastrels.home.blog/2019/08/17/the-greenhouse-a-zero-waste-fringe-venue/)

4 stars

Susan Singfield

When the Birds Come
(c) Alex Brenner

19/08/19

Underbelly Cowgate (White Belly), Edinburgh

Thirteen-year-old Margaret (Phoebe Vigor) lives with her eight year old brother, Stanley (Zak Douglas), and their troubled parents in a tiny Yupik community in the wilds of Alaska. Global warming is gradually destroying their traditional way of life. The melting tundra threatens to plunge the family’s modest home into the ever rising river – and, because of a landslide that coincided with his birth, Stanley has always thought himself responsible for this catastrophic change.

The goverment has plans to rehouse them further inland but Margaret repeatedly tells Stanley that, when summer comes and the geese return, the two of them will run away to Anchorage, the nearest city of any size, where they will enjoy all the comforts of capitalism: Starbucks coffee, central heating, cinemas and unlimited wi fi…

But, as we learn in a beautifully judged flash-forward, things don’t always turn out as expected. And Margaret’s anticipated pleasures come at a terrible cost.

This delightful, enviromentally-conscious two-hander by Tallulah Brown, tells a poignant story, yet also manages to give a stark warning about the impending disaster that awaits our planet. The two adult actors skilfully embody their young characters (Douglas in particular has a face that uncannily belies his years) and the poignant scene where the two of them meet up years later is genuinely heartbreaking.  I previously knew nothing about the indigenous communities of Alaska but, after watching this, I intend to find out more.

Meanwhile, this charming play provides a heartfelt introduction to their plight.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Dexter and Winter’s Detective Agency

18/08/19

Summerhall (Roundabout), Edinburgh

Surely the hardest working trio in Edinburgh, Toyin Omari-Kinch, Charlotte Bate and Charlotte O’Leary are performing daily in not one, not two, but three plays here at Roundabout. I don’t know how they do it: so many lines to learn; such physicality required. But even now, as we head into the final stretch of the Fringe, they all look perky and healthy. Maybe they’re revelling in the joy of working with such interesting scripts, or maybe they’re just good at faking it. Whatever.

We’ve already seen them in heartbreaking, thought-provoking mode in Daughterhood (https://bouquetsbrickbatsreviews.com/2019/08/09/daughterhood/) and On the Other Hand, We’re Happy (https://bouquetsbrickbatsreviews.com/2019/08/11/on-the-other-hand-were-happy/). This time, we’re here for their children’s show, an altogether lighter affair, all high-octane energy and fast-paced storytelling.

Dexter and Winter’s Detective Agency, written by Nathan Bryon and directed (again) by Stef O’Driscoll, is all about friendship. Dexter (Omari-Kinch) has his world torn apart when his mum, Ange (Bate), is arrested, accused of jewellery theft. But his best friend, Winter (O’Leary), has a plan. Of course Ange is innocent. All they have to do is prove it, by finding out who the real culprit is.

There’s a serious undercurrent to the piece – there’s debt and immorality, betrayal and loss – but there are lots of jokes too. The performance is exuberant, the characters larger-than-life, and yet still credible. Special mention here to Bate, who plays countless roles, switching at breakneck speed, adding a hat here or an apron there: she’s Winter’s mum, she’s a policewoman, a train guard, a butcher, a bailiff… it’s endless.

Once again, Paines Plough deliver quality theatre, the direction totally in harmony with the performance space. Roundabout is the Fringe venue I can most rely on; I’ve never yet been let down by what they have to show.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

Wil Greenway: The Ocean After All

17/08/19

Underbelly Bristo Square (Dexter), Edinburgh

There are certain artists you see at the Fringe, who seem to define it so totally that the thought of not seeing them the following year is somehow unthinkable. Wil Greenway is just such an artist. Not only is he arguably the nicest chap you’d ever hope to meet (and a man with a constantly changing beard), he’s also kind of unique. Not exactly a comedian, not quite a storyteller, he inhabits a world somewhere in between these two disciplines.

The Ocean After All is another of his delightful shaggy-dog tales, a simple story about a man who drives off a jetty, lands in a boat and drifts across the ocean until he finally finds himself marooned on a tiny island with nothing but seagulls and bananas for company – except, of course, it’s not about that at all. His stories feel like richly embroidered tapestries, where what’s described in those lyrical, sumptuous lines of his aren’t necessarily what meets the eye. Somehow, he always manages to pull together the various strands of his narrative and tie them up in a gloriously satisfying bow.

This year, he’s without his familiar onstage musician Will Galloway, who always seems to be such an integral part of his act. Kathryn Langshaw is still there with some atmospheric recorded music, but I have to admit, I miss the duo’s live contribution. Nevertheless, this is a delightful and engaging performance, and the two friends we bring along with us to see Wil for the first time are suitably enchanted. I feel almost jealous of them, remembering back to 2016 and The Way the City Ate the Stars, my own introduction to the charms of this Australian dreamweaver.

I write nice things about Greenway every year in the certain knowledge that he’ll remain oblivious to them. He told me, the first time we spoke, that he never reads his reviews. But, if you’re reading this, do yourself a favour. Grab a ticket for one of Wil Greenway’s last few shows before he heads back to Oz.

You won’t regret it.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney 

Jammy Dodgers

17/08/19

theSpace on the Mile, Edinburgh

Jammy Dodgers is a prime example of a student play: the sort of chorally spoken, minimally-propped, sentence-sharing ensemble work that you only ever really see in drama exams – or at the Fringe. This is not to denigrate it. I love this style of theatre: it requires precision and focus and a well-drilled team.

Performed by members of the UCL Drama Society, the story is simple, with an Animal Farm-style message about how humans – always, inevitably – fuck up. We’re in an all-too-imaginable dystopian near future: the world’s population has exploded and the housing crisis has escalated to monstrous proportions. But salvation may be at hand, as another planet has been colonised, and volunteers are required to people this brave new world.

Writer/director Amy Tickner offers a host of reasons individuals may choose to leave all they know behind: they’re either running to, she says, powered by idealism, or they’re running from, driven by the belief that it’s worth the risk, unlikely to be worse than the life they’re living now.

Young optimist Si (Will Bennett) fits firmly into the former camp. He’s nervous but excited, hopeful that this new society won’t replicate the same mistakes. Aleece (Zsuzsa Magyar), on the other hand, is cynical. She trusts no one, not even Si, not even after he lets her eat his smuggled jammy dodgers. She rolls her eyes at The System’s rules, but doesn’t join The People’s protests. She remains an outsider, her vision unclouded by dreams.

I like the direction of this piece, with its staccato scene changes and stylised movement. The synchronised, robotically sing-song speech of the two women representing The System (Ishaa Mane and Jade Armstrong) is chilling, and the ensemble (James Armitage, Klara Grapci-Germizaj, Suzy Palmer, Alice Popadopoulou and Kathryn Ravey) create a convincing populace for the new colony.

It’s a pessimistic piece,  for sure – but pessimism is, sadly, an apt response to our times.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Tokyo Rose

16/08/19

Underbelly Cowgate (Iron Belly), Edinburgh

This lively, 40s themed musical tells the true story of Iva Toguri d’Aquino. Never heard of her? Well, hers is an intriguing story.

Of Japanese descent, Iva was born and raised in California but, in 1941, was asked by her mother to go to Japan to  help her ailing aunt recover from illness. While Iva was there, Pearl Harbour was attacked and America and Japan were suddenly at war with each other. She tried to leave the country but, because the State Department had failed to arrange a passport for her visit, she was prevented from returning to her homeland. Pressured to renounce her American citizenship, she refused.

Against her will, Iva was recruited by The Zero Hour, a radio programme designed to demoralise the American troops that tuned in to listen to it – though the show’s director, Major Charles Cousins, could only persuade her to join by insisting that he had cunning methods to ensure that no anti-American propaganda would ever go out. Iva’s contributions were minimal (she did occasional broadcasts calling herself Little Orphan Anne) but, in 1949, when the war ended, she returned to America, only to find herself accused of treason, identified as the mythical Tokyo Rose.

The story is told through song and movement and it’s beautifully put together, Hannah Benson’s direction ensuring that it moves smoothly from scene to scene using a few well chosen props. Maya Britto is adorable as Iva, her expressions registering her helpless astonishment as her defence crumbles beneath the racially-motivated slurs of the prosecution. Lucy Park, Yuki Sutton, Cara Baldwin and Hannah Benson play a host of supporting roles, flitting effortlessly from character to character – and because this is a complicated tale, the large captioning screen at the side of the stage is helpful even for those of us without a hearing impairment. If I have a nitpick, I’d like to see dialogue spoken rather than sung, just to offer something in the way of contrast – but it’s not a deal-breaker.

Playing to a packed house and sending audiences out on a high, Tokyo Rose is a delight. It also illuminates a fascinating (and little known) story from the Second World War.

Grab a ticket if you can, and strap yourselves in for a bumpy ride.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Sugar

15/08/19

Sweet Novotel (Novotel 2), Edinburgh

Sugar tells the tale of flatmates Steph (Kate Wilson) and Rhona (Ellie Squires), fed up with their dead-end jobs and dead-end lives. They’d just like to be able to pay the bills without borrowing from Rhona’s boyfriend, Mark (Matthew Ogden), again. When they realise – via Steph’s listless trawling of Tinder – that there are men who will pay quite handsomely for a pair of… used tights… they set aside their qualms, nylon up and set up a small business. Surely nothing can go wrong?

The script, wittily penned by Catrin Evans, is Sugar‘s greatest strength. It’s a quirky, original idea, and the writing is sprightly and lively. There are plenty of laugh-out-loud funny lines, but also some serious points being made – about poorly paid jobs, for example, and the fact that even full-time workers can’t pay their modest bills. I would like a bit more detail about their workplace, though: they are dressed as if they work in retail, but their talk of HR, etc. makes it sound more like they are based in an office. It’s a small thing, but I find myself wondering about it, which is somewhat distracting.

The direction by Evans and Robbie Crow is generally good, allowing dynamic movement in a tiny space, although I do find myself a little irritated by the pointless exits and entrances, where characters leave the stage, only to return five seconds later to exactly the same position. A simple lighting change would be far more effective here, and would look less clumsy.

Although funny and engaging throughout, the acting is a little uneven, with some of the cast playing up the humour to the detriment of credible characterisation. Squires stands out, convincing even when Rhona’s behaviour is utterly ridiculous.

This, though, is partly what the Fringe is for: giving creatives the space to try out new ideas. And this one, I think, has (nylon covered) legs.

3 stars

Susan Singfield