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THEATRE BOUQUETS 2023

In 2023, despite the King’s Theatre being out of action due to its long-awaited refurb, Edinburgh still had more than its fair share of exciting shows. We’ve somehow managed to narrow it down to our favourite ten, but if we’ve missed something, be sure to let us know about it!

Macbeth – An Undoing (Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh)

“Harris’s adaptation is bold, daring and witty. I love the idea of the witches as servants: it makes perfect sense. They’re the eyes and ears of the house, privy to the paperwork the Macbeths have drawn up, witness to intimate moments and careless asides. Invisible. Ignored.”

The Ocean at the End of the Lane (Festival Theatre, Edinburgh)

“A sequence featuring a whole series of illuminated doorways through which Ursula disappears and reappears is so brilliantly played that I find myself gasping aloud at each new revelation.”

The Grand Old Opera House Hotel (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“A piece that fearlessly swings for the fences and hits all of its targets bang on. Part slapstick, part comic-opera, part mad-as-a-box-of-frogs spectacle, this is something you really don’t want to miss.”

Bloody Elle (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“This queer love story offers a wonderful celebration of the affecting powers of first love and Lauryn Redding takes us by the hand and leads us through the experience.”

Dark Noon (Pleasance EICC, Edinburgh)

“A unique piece of devised theatre, sprawling and multi-faceted. It’s sometimes funny, but more often it’s shocking and humbling. At the conclusion, the sell-out crowd rises to its collective feet and the applause reverberates around the room like thunder.”

Bacon (Summerhall, Edinburgh)

“A whip-smart, tightly-constructed duologue that pulls me into its tenacious grip and holds me spellbound as the story unfolds, cutting back and forth between the two boys’ home lives, their developing relationship, their triumphs and disasters.”

After the Act (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“A triumphant piece of theatre. Stevens skewers Margaret Thatcher’s self-righteous ignorance in a comical depiction of the ex-PM: if she sounds ridiculous as she defends her nasty law, they’re her own words; she’s hoist by her own petard.”

Moorcroft (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“A fabulous slice of theatre that moves effortlessly through a whole series of emotions. It swerves from raucous hilarity to visceral anger to heartrending tragedy with all the sure-footed precision of a well-drilled team.

The Snow Queen (Lyceum, Edinburgh)

“In this very Scottish adaptation, Morna Young illuminates the story’s season-appropriate warm heart. This production is as bold and vivacious as everything we’ve seen Cora Bissett direct”

Battery Park (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“Battery Park captures the sweaty exuberance of a band’s early days with absolute authority, providing an inspired mix of drama and high-octane rock. As gig theatre goes, this is a perfect example of the craft.”

Susan Singfield & Philip Caveney

FILM BOUQUETS 2023

In 2023 we were gifted a rich and diverse selection of films. Indeed, there was so much to choose from we’ve had a very hard time picking out our ten favourites, but here they are in chronological order. Did we miss anything? Let us know if your favourite movie of 2023 hasn’t made our list!

Empire of Light

“This charming and affecting movie has me entranced from its opening shot to its final frame, and I suspect that anybody with a genuine love of film is going to have a similar experience.”

Tár

“This is a fascinating film, so densely packed I know I need to watch it again (something I rarely do). Quite simply, Tár is a masterpiece.”

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

“Be warned: all but the most cynical will be in serious danger of falling head-over-heels for Marcel’s considerable charms.”

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

“The true triumph is the ever-changing beauty of the many different art techniques used to illustrate the story: from realist to impressionist; from pastel shades to psychedelia.”

Barbie

“Gerwig doesn’t just walk the thin line between celebrating and critiquing Barbie: she jumps up and down on it, turning somersaults and waving cheekily.”

Oppenheimer

“Murphy’s chiselled features seem to stare out of that giant screen as if appealing for understanding for the torture he’s going through, the awful weight of responsibility resting on those narrow shoulders.”

Past Lives

Celine Song has created a narrative so assured, so brilliantly handled, it’s little wonder that critics around the world have fallen for its charms.”

Killers of the Flower Moon

“There’s no doubt that this true story, based on the book by David Gran, makes for compelling viewing – and the film’s two-hundred-million dollar budget ensures that Scorcese’s evocation of the era is beautifully realised.”

The Creator

“Considerably more nuanced than most sci-fi adventures and I find myself constantly impressed by the film’s invention, the grubby reality of the AI creations that populate this imagined world.”

Anatomy of a Fall

“A strange beast indeed, a film that becomes increasingly compelling as it moves ever further away from anything approaching a straightforward resolution.”

Philip Caveney & Susan Singfield

Maestro

14/12/23

Cameo Cinema, Edinburgh

Like several other recent films, Maestro has been bankrolled by Netflix and consequently ended up with a fleeting theatrical release before moving on to the streaming service. Much of the advance publicity has been caught up in the furore generated by writer/actor/director Bradley Cooper’s controversial decision to use a prosthetic nose in order to look more like his chosen subject, Leonard Bernstein, a complex issue I don’t feel qualified to wade into.

The film itself is undoubtedly accomplished and Cooper’s performance moves beyond impersonation, as he captures the composer’s restless nature, depicting him as a powerful, chain-smoking force of nature, a man constantly warring between his evident devotion to his wife, actor Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan), and the succession of male lovers that drift into his orbit. He’s also at war with himself, lamenting his inability to concentrate on the classics he loves because of his commitments to provide music for various film and broadway productions. (When these include the likes of West Side Story, it’s hard to commiserate with him.)

Set over decades, the two actors enact their roles with absolute authority, while cinematographer Matthew Libatique uncannily captures the different eras with a range of camera techniques and varying aspect ratios. The effect is that the images gradually grow in scale as the years unfold. An early monochrome sequence where the two young lovers watch of production of On The Town and end up dancing with the cast is a particular highlight.

This is perhaps a film to admire rather than enjoy, with the story so tightly focused on the central characters that supporting players are barely given the opportunity to make much of an impression. Sarah Silverman as Leonard’s snarky sister Shirley comes the closest, but she’s only occasionally onscreen. Lovers of classical music will doubtless respond favourably to the long intervals where Bernstein conducts massive orchestras and choirs in his distinctive animated style, while those who are oblivious to its charms may feel distanced and (dare I say it?) a little bored by the excesses. Happily for me, I belong to the former category.

Maestro is a handsome, brilliantly executed film, one that belies the fact that this is only Cooper’s second outing a director. (2018’s A Star is Born was his debut; thanks for asking.) Made with the full cooperation of the Bernstein family, this is something of a Marmite movie. Mulligan (who is top-billed) submits a powerful performance as a woman compelled to a lifetime of compromise and her later scenes, where she slowly succumbs to illness, are devastating.

Many will decide to wait a week or so to stream this at home but it does deserve to be seen on the biggest screen available and with a speaker system that can do justice to that magnificent score.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Learning to Fly

17/11/23

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

We have an unusual reason to remember the name James Rowland.

Searching back through the annals of our reviews blog, I see that, on the 14th March 2019, we were in the Traverse Theatre, watching him perform A Hundred Different Words for Love, part of a trilogy of plays he was touring. We managed to see all three of them but, due to circumstances beyond our control, in the wrong order.

You don’t need long memories to recall that this was a troubling time for theatre-makers around the world – and indeed, the poor turnout for this show had nothing to do with Rowlands’ material but instead spoke volumes about how frightened audiences were of mysterious new virus that was afflicting the world. Tickets had been sold, but few customers were brave/reckless enough to turn up and take their seats. Sure enough, just two days later, theatres across the UK were instructed to close their doors – and it was a long time before they were safe to reopen them.

Happily, things have moved on since those dark days  – and Rowland’s latest offering, Learning to Fly, is a charming and affable piece, based around a recollection from the performer’s youth, a time when he lived in Didsbury, Manchester, near to Fog Lane Park. 

Weirdly, in the 1980s, I lived there too, but that’s another story.

Rowlands is as likeable and swaggering as ever. I can hardly fail to forget that he performed one part of the aforementioned trilogy stark bollock naked, which certainly takes some confidence, but tonight he’s modestly dressed in a white singlet, trackie pants and trainers. He wanders onto the stage, has a brief chat with the audience about trigger warnings and the like, and then launches into his story.

He tells us about being fourteen years old and about an unspecified illness that keeps him from going to school; and how his struggling mother leaves him for one day a week in the care of Anne, an elderly neighbour, who never seems to leave her house and who spends most of her time listening to the music of Beethoven.

Against all the odds, the two of them  form an uneasy friendship, one that steadily grows over the weeks until one night, James does something unprecedented – something that will change their relationship forever…

Learning to Fly is a charming and beguiling piece, one that veers from outright hilarity to moments of pathos and regret. It’s easy to picture Rowlands as a youngster, steadfastly pursuing his own particular goals in life, which perhaps unsurprisingly, are not those of the average fourteen year old. I can believe that he would do something so spectacularly off-the-wall. 

If I’ve a criticism to make, it’s simply that some of the pay-offs are not always delivered as forcefully as I’d like – and there’s an indecisiveness to the conclusion that has tonight’s audience unsure of whether the time to applaud has actually arrived or not. 

But it would be an unsympathetic viewer indeed who doesn’t derive enjoyment from this unconventional mix of comedy, storytelling and music. 

Hopefully Rowlands’ current tour will be allowed to continue without the unwelcome interruption of a pandemic. Fingers crossed.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Disciples

06/10/23

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Disciples is a compelling piece of performance art, combining poetry, music, movement and visual imagery. Conceived and directed by Rachel Drazek and written by Ellen Renton, it’s about belonging and expectations, interdependence and joy. It’s also about giving people the chance to take up space – especially those who are often denied that opportunity.

The five-strong cast of disabled women and non-binary people bring Drazek’s vision to life: this is the “bold and beautiful new piece of dance theatre” she aspired to make. The creative process, we learn in an illuminating after-show discussion, was a collaborative one, the piece devised in rehearsal before being shaped by Renton. It shows: the performers’ agency is palpable. The resulting production is nuanced and doesn’t shy away from difficult emotions, but the layering of ideas ultimately adds up to something joyful and positive, reinforcing the idea that we are all connected and inter-dependent.

The costumes, by Zephyr Lidell, are simple but striking, each performer clad in a single, shimmering colour. Visually impaired musician Sally Clay (yellow) is all optimism; her singing voice is ethereal and she plays the harp and ukulele with aplomb. But she’s more excited about the dancing: post-show, she reveals that this is a long way from her comfort zone, and that she’s delighted to have been challenged in this way. Indeed, this point is echoed by Rana Bader (red), who seems to embody passion and strength; she is bursting with energy and exuberance, making a gazillion press-ups look easy. She’s not used to demands being made of her, she says; in rehearsal rooms, she sees her non-disabled peers being given detailed notes, while she is patted on the head just for turning up. She prefers being pushed.

Laura Fisher (lavender) is a dancer, so graceful and elegant that they take my breath away, while Irina Vartopeanu (green), uses BSL in a way I’ve never seen before, incorporated into the piece, not as a straight interpretation of what others are saying but as an expression in itself. She’s vivacious and somehow diaphanous.

Emma McCaffrey (orange), last seen by B&B in the excellent Castle Lennox, explores the idea of inner rage; they are an engaging performer with a bold stage presence and bring the humour needed to balance this play.

Disciples is a thought-provoking, sensory piece, and well worth catching if you can.

3.6 stars

Susan Singfield

The Old Oak

28/09/23

The Cameo, Edinburgh

It feels like the end of an era. The Old Oak is the fourteenth feature film directed by Ken Loach and written by Paul Laverty. Their partnership began with Carla’s Song in 1986 but Loach, of course, has been around a lot longer than that (he directed his first feature, Poor Cow in 1967!). Now in his eighties, he’s decreed that this film will be his swan song.

From the opening scenes, we know we’re watching a Ken Loach film. All the familiar tropes are there: a cast of largely non-professional actors; the everyday struggles of working-class characters; the indifference of the powers that be; utterly realistic settings – and a socialist polemic that demonstrates how completely the people of Britain have been betrayed since the rise of Margaret Thatcher.

This story is set in a village just outside of Durham, a once vibrant community ravaged by the closing of the coal mines and now a crumbling vestige of its former self. When Syrian refugees are unceremoniously unloaded into the villages’s vacant properties, it’s hardly surprising that some of the people who’ve lived here all their lives react with suspicion and sometimes outright hostility to their new neighbours. Resources are already in short supply; there’s nothing left to share.

TJ Ballantyne (Dave Turner) is the landlord of the titular pub, which is now the one place where the local community can congregate, but even that is a shadow of what it once was. In a closed-down back room, photographs from the days of the miners’ strike, taken by TJ’s late father, decorate the walls. He shows them to Yara (Ebla Mari), a young Syrian woman, who is herself a keen amateur photographer. Her precious camera was broken by a local yob when she was stepping off the bus that brought her here and TJ helps her to get it repaired.

And when she comes up with the idea of reopening that back room and using it as a community space to offer free meals to everyone that needs one, TJ steps up to the challenge. But he has underestimated the jealousy and anger this will trigger from his neighbours…

While The Old Oak may not be Loach and Laverty’s finest achievement, these two cinema stalwarts have nonetheless created an entirely credible and sometimes heartbreaking story, one that serves as a fitting tribute to everything they’ve achieved over the years. It’s particularly satisfying to have Laverty himself onstage after the screening to answer questions about the film and the process of writing the screenplay.

If this really is to be a final collaboration, then The Old Oak provides a rousing sendoff. And I love the uncompromising way in which the film ends, with no pat solution to the problems – just a village slowly learning to become a community.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Dumb Money

23/09/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

How soon is too soon? The real life tale of the GameStop share crisis happened during lockdown, when most of us were more concerned about where we were going to get toilet paper from than in following the details of a story about share dealings, and – while it might have been a big deal across the water – it didn’t warrant much more than a passing mention in the British press.

Pitched as a sort of David and Goliath story, Dumb Money relates the tale of Keith Gill (the ever likeable Paul Dano), a small time, blue-collar share dealer, who advertises himself as ‘Roaring Kitty’ and who has a predilection for wearing T-shirts with pictures of cute cats on them. Gill has a regular spot on Reddit, where he recommends likely investments to a group of followers. He has recently decided that struggling bricks and mortar computer outlet GameStop is worth saving – so much so, he’s willing to gamble his life savings on it and to encourage his viewers to take a punt.

These include hospital worker, Jenny (America Ferrara), and actual GameStop employee Markus (Anthony Ramos). But as the company’s share price begins to rise, a lot of others decide they want to get in on the action and throw in everything they can spare. What was at first a steady rise suddenly goes up like a rocket. But several hedge fund companies – including Melvin Capital, led by Gabe Plotkin (Seth Rogan) – have already invested millions into GameStop, in the confident belief that they will trigger a ‘short squeeze’ scenario. They fully expect the company to go bust and their hedge funds to make millions from its demise. Now, thanks to Gill, they stand to lose everything.

Director Craig Gillespie, who previously gave us the brilliant I, Tonya, does his best to make all this work, but to somebody like me, who has no knowledge (or indeed interest) in the subject of stocks and shares, it’s sometimes hard to understand exactly what’s going on here, or more importantly, why I should care. Perhaps Dumb Money ties in to the American infatuation with the idea of making something from nothing, of taking on the big players and equating money with success.

Every character that appears onscreen is accompanied by a credit informing viewers of their net worth, and the loveable maverick quality that Gill exhibits feels somewhat overstated when we learn that, as a result of all these shenanigans, he himself is now a millionaire.

Though it’s fitfully amusing and occasionally generates some genuine laughs, Dumb Money never really settles into its stride. When the big players rig the game so that small investors can no longer participate, we’re probably supposed to be angry at the fact that there’s no such thing as a level playing field – but the whole story takes place in a world that seems light years away from our experience.

Consequently, it’s hard to feel involved. And therein lies the problem. Those with an interest in such matters may have a much better time with Dumb Money than I do.

2.8 stars

Philip Caveney

The Blackening

02/09/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Spoof horror movies have been around for a very long time – so any new contender in this crowded field, has to offer something radically different. The Blackening manages it. For starters, almost all the characters in this story are Black. Furthermore, they are cine-literate enough to know what generally happens to Black people in such movies. Hence the film’s strap line: ‘We can’t all die first.’

Morgan (Yvonne Orji) and Shawn (Jay Pharoah) have booked a remote cabin in the woods (what could possibly go wrong?) where they plan to host a ten-year reunion with some old school friends. But when said friends turn up, their hosts are nowhere to be found. So they settle down to wait for them.

The guests include promiscuous Lisa (Antoinette Robertson) and – rather awkwardly – her old flame Nmandi (Sinqua Walls). There’s the resourceful Alison (Grace Byers), sassy Shanika (X Mayo), super-snarky King (Melvin Gregg) and nervous Dewayne (Dewayne Perkins, who co-wrote the screenplay with Tracy Oliver.) Dewayne is Black and gay, and has seen enough horror movies to know he is especially at risk. There’s also geeky Clifton (Jermaine Fowler), who the others remember from school – but none will admit to inviting him to this gathering.

In the ‘Games Room,’ the guests are compelled to play the titular board game, which features a really racist-looking mechanical face that asks a lot of difficult questions. How many Black characters appeared in Friends, for example? Tricky… and the stakes are high. Get an answer wrong and one of the hosts will be kaput.

So far, so generic, but what makes The Blackening rise above most of the competition is the fact that, though it’s occasionally quite bloody, it’s the wisecracking dialogue that keeps up the momentum, as the various players snipe, bicker and squabble their way through the ensuing chaos, never losing sight of wanting to be the coolest person in the room. The story heads off in a whole variety of different directions, some of which come as genuine surprises. However, the film is uneven, sometimes propulsive enough to keep me hooked in, but too often slowing right down for long conversations.

There’s a much lower body count than I’m used to seeing in a film like this – and I have to say, it loses a couple of points when a late ‘reveal’ comes as no surprise to me whatsoever… but maybe I simply see too many films. Overall I enjoy The Blackening – and in several scenes, it has be laughing out loud.

3.7 stars

Philip Caveney

Theater Camp

31/08/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Joan Rubinski (Amy Sedaris) is a bit of a theatrical legend. She has been running her summer theatre camp for young performers for many years. But, when she suffers a debilitating fit (caused by exposure to strobe lights), her outfit is left without a leader. So it falls to her son, Troy (Jimmy Tatro), to step up to the plate and fill her tap shoes, despite having no experience of drama whatsoever. Troy is an ‘influencer’, who thinks he has what it takes to overhaul the business.

Unfortunately, he has to try to deal with a whole horde of regular teachers, who have been doing this for donkeys years and who clearly view him as an unwelcome addition to the ranks. They include drama coach, Amos (Ben Platt), and his soulmate, music tutor Rebecca-Diane (Molly Gordon). The duo actually met at the camp as students and fell in love – but, since Amos came out, their co-dependency can perhaps best be described as ‘complicated’. There’s Rita Cohen (Caroline Aaron), Joan’s no-nonsense right-hand woman, who seems to have a talent for always saying the wrong thing and there’s new recruit, Janet (Eyo Edebiri), who has as much experience in drama as Troy, but is determined to bluff her way through…

This charming and sometimes very funny mockumentary comes from a team of people who clearly know their subject well. Depicted in a series of short, snappy scenes (but for once eschewing the straight-to-camera interviews that are so often utilised in fake docs), we are witness to the three weeks of frantic work it takes to put together a summer show, a tribute to their beloved leader, entitled Joan, Still. We witness the trials and tribulations of creating a musical from not very much by a cohort of bright, eager students, all of whom have their eyes set on their own individual goals. (I particularly enjoy the diminutive boy who has decided he’s born to be… an agent.)

When Troy is romanced by the villainous Caroline (Patti Harrison), who works with a neighbouring, more upwardly-mobile youth theatre group, bankruptcy hovers in the wings and it’s going to take considerable wheeling and dealing on his part if he’s to save his mother’s camp. Can the team forget their various differences and work towards a solution?

Anyone who enjoyed Summer Heights High, back in the day, will get a kick out of Theater Camp, which shares some DNA with the legendary Mr G. It’s sprightly, silly and a lot of fun. Now, if only there were a rousing singalong to finish it all off… oh, wait a minute, turns out they’ve actually written one!

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Matt Forde: Inside No. 10

26/08/23

Pleasance Courtyard (Pleasance Beyond), Edinburgh

Matt Forde has built his reputation on a canny combination of political commentary interspersed with impersonations of the people in power. He’s a seasoned, confident performer and, pretty much from the get go, Inside No. 10 has the sizeable audience at the Pleasance Beyond laughing it up. The over-riding message is that the country is being led by the biggest bunch of buffoons in history and our only hope is to giggle about it. No arguments there. I’ve always thought that Rishi Sunak would be a hard man to impersonate but Forde manages it with ease, highlighting his ability to sound inappropriately effusive, even when he’s delivering horrible news.

And it’s not just the Tories. There’s a brilliantly observed Keir Starmer in there too, austere and seemingly obsessed with tearfully mentioning his late father at every opportunity and, since we’re in Scotland, the recent woes of the SNP are duffed up too, even if Forde wisely keeps his Nicola Sturgeon down to a few one-liners.

Ironically, it’s when he steps outside of British politics that the show really takes flight. His impersonation of Donald Trump is, as ever, spot on, nailing the man’s petulance and his childlike habit of blaming everybody else for his misfortunes. It’s easily the funniest part of Inside No. 10, (especially after being handed the gift of that mugshot) but, unfortunately, it has the effect of making the remainder of the show feel slightly anticlimactic. The piece doesn’t conclude so much as peter out.

Perhaps a little restructuring would help, holding back Trump (if only such a thing were possible) and finishing the exercise on a high point. Or maybe having him as a guide, observing our political system from his jaundiced POV?

Mind you, it’s bit late in the day to be suggesting changes, when the Fringe has almost run its course; besides, if the object of the exercise is to make an audience laugh, Forde certainly succeeds in that respect, big time.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney