Theatre

old man’s Gift

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25/08/15

Venue 13, Lochend Close, Edinburgh

old man’s Gift (capitalisation theirs) is billed as a dark comedy. It tells the tale of four friends, using a birthday celebration to seek vengeance on the ‘old man’ who abused them in the past. It’s a student production, featuring four under-graduates from Trinity Saint David University in Carmarthen, and it’s clear that they’ve worked very hard to bring this drama to the fringe.

Sadly, however, it doesn’t really work. There are issues with all aspects of the production, from the script to the set design, from the direction to the performance style. None of it is quite convincing, and it doesn’t hang together well.

Let’s start with the set. It’s supposed to be a garden, or a patio, I think: the grounds of the old man’s house. There are chairs and a table, and – for some unfathomable reason – a fence. The fence stretches across the front of the stage, creating a barrier between the audience and the performers, which seems an odd thing to do in such a venue, where intimacy is perhaps the biggest selling point. It blocks a lot of the upstage action too, so that we cannot see the actors’ faces during several crucial scenes.

The script is problematic too. It’s not funny enough to work as a comedy, and there’s a strange intensity to the whole thing – a kind of teenage-angsty-melodrama vibe, where the emotions are cranked up to full volume throughout, with all four characters  yelling, hyperventilating and flouncing off the stage at every opportunity. Despite all the histrionics, it’s a curiously empty play, and none of the heartbreak feels even remotely real. The characters’ motivations are spurious (really – why does Liz swallow the condom instead of just hiding it in her hand?) and their relationships are somehow ‘off.’

The direction is also weak. There are so many exits and entrances that it’s almost like a farce – but without the precision and humour that a farce demands. The constant traffic isn’t helped by the fact that the stage is a wooden box, and the actors all wear ‘solid’ shoes, meaning that the sound reverberates around the room. The performances look like acting, with none of the natural ease that makes a drama good.

All in all, this play just didn’t work for us. It’s an ambitious project, but one that – this time – hasn’t quite paid off.

1.5 stars

Susan Singfield and Philip Caveney

Tom Neenan: The Andromeda Paradox

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24/08/15

Pleasance Dome, Edinburgh

Professor Bernard Andromeda has devoted his life to researching strange phenomena – so when a mysterious prehistoric artefact is discovered in a disused London tube station, his curiosity is immediately aroused – especially when said artefact is inscribed with his name. He sets about trying to discover its origins and finds himself embroiled in a mystery that will challenge his scientific beliefs to the core, one that leads to the realisation that alien forces are at work. Soon much of the population of London has been turned into hordes of zombies all chanting his name and he is the only man who can avert disaster…

Tom Neenan has written a wonderfully affectionate parody of Nigel Kneale’s landmark sci-fi tale, The Quatermass Experiment, in which he plays all the characters – from a strange German professor who has taken his experiments with flowers a bit too far, to Andromeda’s adoring female assistant who is prepared to use her feminine charms to help him solve the mystery. Neenan is an expert story teller and he milks the comic potential of the 50s setting with great skill, aided and abetted by a script that is laugh-out-loud funny – the scene where one of Neenan’s hands transforms into an adorable alien creature… ‘no bigger than my hand,’ is a particular delight. There’s wonderful stagecraft here too. A whole range of locations are evoked simply by the positioning of a table and chair and Neenan’s sweet posh-boy persona is exploited to the hilt.

The performance is peppered with plenty of in-jokes but you don’t need to be familiar with the original material in order to enjoy this deliciously silly slice of nonsense, which is designed to appeal to people of all ages. Fabulous stuff, I urge you to catch it.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Edith in the Dark

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23/08/15

Momentum @ St Stephens, Stockbridge, Edinburgh

I was looking forward to seeing this play. I loved E. Nesbit’s books when I was a child (although, even at eight years old, I used to laugh at their over-privileged world-view – expecting readers to identify with a family whose idea of poverty means only being able to afford the one servant to do all the cooking and cleaning), and was intrigued to learn that she had also written a collection of ghost stories for adults. The play’s premise is strong: Edith meets a fan, and reads some of these stories to him, allowing us some insight into the author’s world, as well as bringing the ghostly tales to life.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t really work here. We’re told that the stories are dark and horrifying, but then they are played for laughs; the tone is so muddled it becomes incoherent. It’s not funny enough to work as a comedy, and it’s not frightening at all. Playwright Philip Meeks acknowledges a debt to the old Amicus horror films (“They’re schlocky and almost camp…”) and that’s clearly the angle director Keith Hukin is aiming for here, but he doesn’t really pull it off. It all ends up seeming just a little bit silly, which is a shame, because it could have been so good.

Blue Merrick, as Edith, is clearly a talented actor, and she manages to hold the piece to some extent. But she’s wasted on this material, and her fellow actors don’t fare as well in their supporting roles. It’s dispiriting stuff: four people walk out half way through the piece, and I can’t say I blame them. It’s a rare sunny day in Edinburgh, and there are far better places to be than this.

2 stars

Susan Singfield and Philip Caveney

Fully Committed

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24/08/15

Underbelly Potterrow (Venue 358)

We all know Marcus Brigstocke as a stand up comedian and radio show host, but can he act? On the strength of Fully Committed, the answer is a resounding yes. This sprightly one-hander tells the story of Sam Peliczowski, an affable out of work actor who, for the moment at least, has the more mundane task of running the reservation phone lines at Manhattan’s most exclusive restaurant. We join him at the beginning of an absolute day from hell, when his co-worker has failed to turn up and Sam is left to run the show single-handed. But didn’t I say that this was a one-hander? Well, yes, because the trick here is that Brigstocke voices all the characters that Sam speaks to on the phone lines (40 of them in total) supplying their respective accents and mannerisms into the bargain. It’s a monumental undertaking and the script must have been a nightmare to memorise, but Brigstocke handles it effortlessly, giving us amongst others, a foul mouthed Bronx chef, an anxious female socialite and his own father. Most of the characters are American and the wonder is that the audience never struggles to know which character is speaking at any given point.

For the first few minutes, I wasn’t sure the play was going to work, but once into his stride, Brigstocke manages to convey the madness and anxiety of the situation spelled out in Becky Mode’s frothy script, snapping from character to character at lightning speed and as the demands on Sam become ever more frenetic, you can’t help feeling for him.

This is classy stuff and Brigstocke seizes the opportunity to extend his range. Catch it before it’s gone.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Confessions of a Redheaded Coffeeshop Girl

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20/08/15

Gilded Balloon Teviot, Edinburgh

Rebecca Perry is Joanie Little, an anthropology graduate, working as a barista and dreaming of a different life. The monologue is interspersed with songs, and the story moves from a wry contemplation of the mundanity of a dull McJob, into a fantasy about love and possibility.

Perry is a charming performer with a lovely singing voice, and she tells her tale with wit and warmth. She takes us with her into Joanie’s world, and paints a vivid portrait of the characters she meets.

It’s an enjoyable show, as frothy as cappuccino – but, ultimately, the espresso doesn’t have much kick. The people-as-wildlife trope has perhaps been done too many times to have much impact now, and it’s all just a little too feelgood and saccharine to really make its mark.

If you like your theatre decaffeinated, this might be the show for you.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Gruesome Playground Injuries

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19/08/15

Basic Mountain, Venue 106, Hill Street, Edinburgh

Phantom Owl Productions have given themselves a tough act to follow here. We’ve already awarded five star reviews to both Filthy Talk For Troubled Times and Fault Lines. What are the chances they can pull it off a third time? Well, when the production in question is Gruesome Playground Injuries by Pulitzer Prize finalist Rajiv Joseph, the chances, it turns out, are very good indeed. This is a fabulous play that covers thirty years in the lives of its two protagonists.

Doug (Brad Fleischer) is a hapless, accident-prone kind of guy. He first runs into the already troubled Kayleen (Jules Willcox) when they are both eight years old and he has just ridden his bicycle off the school roof and cut his face open. We are then reintroduced to them through a series of non-sequential encounters that zip back and forth in time as Doug continues to carry a torch for Kayleen, who is too preoccupied with her own troubles to realise that he has fallen in love with her from the moment he first set eyes on her.

A word too about Larissa Kokernot’s direction of the piece – it calls for quite a few changes of scene and costume and I loved the way that these were all carried out by the two actors in full view of the audience, whilst exchanging tender looks and touches with each other, making it as much a part of the drama as the acting itself. This is a delightful Brechtian conceit that works beautifully. Fleischer and Wilcox make a captivating duo, never faltering as they switch their ages from kids to adults with total conviction and there are several moments here where tears will fill the eyes of all but the most stolid members of the audience.

I’ve said it before but it’s worth saying again; this is the best collection of plays we’ve seen at the Fringe this year – and trust me, we’ve seen quite a few. Seek them out and watch them while you still have the chance.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Morro and Jasp Do Puberty

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18/08/15

Gilded Balloon Teviot, Edinburgh

Female clowns are hardly a new phenomenon (there were the glee-maidens of medieval England, for example, or the famous Columbine, Franceschina and Smeraldina characters from Commedia dell Arte), but it’s certainly rare to see a contemporary clown show centred entirely on the tribulations of teenage girls. The characters, Morro and Jasp (Heather Marie Annis and Amy Lee), are sisters and, in this latest offering, they ‘do puberty.’ And boy, do they do puberty.

I’d never have thought it, but actually clowning seems like the natural form for an exploration of a young girl’s angst. The exaggerated, melodramatic nature of the genre is ideally suited to the heightened emotions and over-reactions we all experience when we’re growing up. Getting your first period is hugely important when you’re a teenage girl, and it really does matter if your little sister gets hers first. Annis and Lee completely nail the sisters’  conflicting emotions: Morro’s disgust at having to take time off from soccer-baseball because of all this icky adult stuff; Jasp’s desperate longing for a boy to put her on his list. These are feelings we can all relate to – men and women – because we’ve all experienced the hell of puberty.

Annis and Lee are consummate clowns, imbuing the simplest of ideas with life and vigour. This is fresh, funny and insightful comedy, and definitely worth seeing.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Scaramouche Jones

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18/08/15

Underbelly, Cowgate, Edinburgh

The joy of the Edinburgh Festival has always been the discovery of exciting theatre. We tried Scaramouche Jones simply because we liked the title, but it was far better than our expectations. This is an exercise in consummate storytelling that transcends the unprepossessing nature of the humble room in which it’s staged.

On his 100th birthday, the titular hero shares, for the first time ever, his life story with an audience. In what is essentially an extended monologue, Thom Tuck excels, delivering Justin Butcher’s extraordinarily evocative script to great effect, as he guides us expertly through the seven stages of Jones’s life from his lowly beginnings as the unwanted son of a prostitute in Port of Spain, Trinidad to his final days, treading the boards as a world-weary clown in the city of London.

As Tuck describes the long journey that brought him to the start of a new millennium, exotic locations are effortlessly evoked through Butcher’s florid descriptions – a journey by camel is conjured merely by the rocking motion Tuck maintains as he sits in his chair – while his descriptions of working as a grave digger in a Nazi concentration camp are quite shattering in their intensity. He gives us a range of characters with a wide variety of accents, taking it all in his stride.

I sat there mesmerised from start to finish. A little longer than the usual festival one hour slot, this is really worth seeking out. Rich, eventful and absorbing, I can’t imagine a more satisfying experience for lovers of great storytelling.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Invisible City

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16/08/15

Venue 13, Edinburgh

One of the delights of the Edinburgh Festival is that you stumble across interesting shows in the unlikeliest places. We chanced upon Invisible City because we bumped into its star, Lowri Jenkins, wandering across the Meadows carrying a flag advertising her show. She was engaging enough to spark our curiosity, so we sought out the hard-to-find Venue 13 right down at the end of the Royal Mile, and we’re glad we did.

This deceptively simple tale is a monologue featuring Marie, a young woman from a remote village in Wales, seeking her fortune in the big city. There’s much to recommend it. Take the opening scene, where Jenkins bravely explores the comic possibilities of saying the word, ‘Yes,’ in just about every variation possible. In the hands of a less skilled performer, this could have backfired horribly, but she handles it well and we soon realise that she is midway through a conversation with her Mam, back in Wales, one of many that we’re treated to. Invisible City starts of as a comedy but developed into an affecting study of loneliness and isolation. At first Marie is full of boundless optimism, eager to make friends and find a job. But as the play progresses she’s reduced to trying to start up a romantic liaison… with a lemon.

The piece is a collaboration between writer/performer Jenkins, choreographer Jennifer Fletcher and composer Mat Martin. It ranges from the hilarious (Marie’s hapless attempts to shop at a state-of-the-art supermarket) and the downright tragic – her eventual descent into depression.

It’s by no means a perfect production – occasionally some of the movement scenes feel slightly overplayed – but it’s charming and original. A scene where Jenkins sings an old Welsh hymn is particularly poignant. Do take the trouble to seek this out. I think you’ll be glad you did.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Thread

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16/08/2015

Demonstration Room, Summerhall, Edinburgh

So, we’re in the Demonstration Room at Summerhall, waiting for the show to begin and I can’t help but notice that four young women in the audience are staring intently at their Macbooks. And I’m just thinking that this is a bit rude, when ambient music starts up and the women begin to clamber across the benches and descend to the performance space, where three of them start to leap and whirl, while the fourth inscribes the words ‘blind trap’ on the floor in chalk.

OK, an interesting start but, for our money, at least, this is about as interesting as Thread gets. As the women interact with each other, we remind ourselves that this piece is about the myth of Ariadne and the blurred lines between reality and fantasy. To us it just looks like four young women bullying each other.

There are some nice moments; we like the conceit of the dancer being confined by the chalk circles being drawn around her feet, nimbly side-stepping them, but ultimately being ensnared.

And there’s some tantalising projection, which works best when illuminating the dancers’ bodies, incorporating them with their set. But somehow it’s a bit restrained; to be fully effective it needs to be more spectacular.

In all honesty, this feels just a bit… teenage. Which would be all well and good if this were a school production (and if it didn’t cost £10 a ticket), but it isn’t (and it does), so it’s, well, not quite good enough.

2 stars

Philip Caveney and Susan Singfield