Beep Boop

02/08/19

Assembly, George Square (Blue Room), Edinburgh

Physical comedy is one of the hardest things to pull off successfully. Because its practitioners sometimes make it look ridiculously easy, we’re sometimes fooled into thinking that it actually is; but it only takes a few moments in the company of a gifted mime artist to appreciate how rigorously they have trained themselves to reach such levels of perfection. New York-based performer Richard Saudek is a brilliant exponent of the form. And today, in a very hot enclosed space on the Edinburgh Fringe, it certainly doesn’t look easy. The sweat is literally raining from him as he manipulates his face and body into a whole range of frantic contortions.

In Beep Boop, Saudek plays a man addicted to his own technology: his phone, his tablet, his laptop; he cannot seem to tear himself away from them. Locked up in his apartment, he appears to have lost the skill of maintaining a genuine friendship. A knock on the door is treated with open hostility. The voice of a woman offering beauty tips online is the closest he ever gets to a conversation. He cannot even make a meal without photographing it, sharing it online and then dumping it in the bin.

This is a hard act to review, simply because every move, every gesture, tells us something new about this man’s tortured character. Aided only by a series of sound effects -provided by a po-faced female assistant – Saudek flings himself through a series of manic vaudevillian twists as his beloved devices subsume him, affect him and ultimately attempt to destroy him. And if I’m in danger of making the whole thing sound a bit on the grim side, don’t be misled. This is brilliantly, howlingly funny stuff. Saudek’s range of facial expressions alone are enough to have me in stitches.

Weirdly, for me, much of the humour comes from recognising myself in this weird mix. Saudek’s character exhibits traits that are uncomfortably familiar – and in a way, that’s the real strength of what he accomplishes here. It’s like looking at yourself in a funfair mirror.

If you like mime and physical theatre, then don’t miss this show. You’ll be in for a treat.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

The Pat Hobby Stories

02/08/19

Gilded Balloon Teviot (Sportsmans), Edinburgh

Until today, I’d never heard F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Pat Hobby stories. I’ve read Gatsby, of course, and Tender is the Night, but these witty so-called ‘throw away’ tales are completely new to me.

And I like them. Pat Hobby is a dissolute writer (think Ed Reardon, but in 1930s Hollywood), clinging to the vestiges of a once illustrious career. His meagre writing skills have been rendered obsolete by the arrival of talkies, and the subsequent requirement for actual scripted dialogue. He hangs around the studio lots, blagging food and calling in favours, taking on odd bits of jobs to earn a buck or two. He’s a gift of a character: all bluster and envy, lurching perilously from scrape to scrape.

No wonder Fringe Management wanted to put him on the stage.

Paul Birchard brings the loveable rogue to life with consummate ease, telling the stories as written, describing Hobby’s actions in the third person, yet still embodying him convincingly. There’s real warmth in the performance, and personality; the grit behind the Hollywood glitz is revealed in this small room.

The room, however, does not do this production any favours. The soundproofing seems to be non-existent, and the show next door is some kind of rollicking romp, with loud music, mic’d performers, and lots of raucous laughter and applause. I have no idea how Birchard manages to concentrate, but he’s clearly a seasoned professional, ignoring it completely, not letting the disruption interrupt his flow. It doesn’t spoil the show exactly (I get used to the noise after a while), but it is annoying, and threatens the intimacy of this detailed portrayal. Hopefully (sorry Jacob Rees-Mogg), the venue will get this sorted for tomorrow, and Birchard will be able to perform in peace.

A clever, amusing show – this deserves to be seen.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Gun

01/08/19

Assembly Rooms, Front Room

Of all the movie genres that are regularly spoofed for comic effect, the Western is perhaps the one that’s most ripe with potential. Gun is a comedy monologue, written and performed by Will Hartley, formally one quarter of the Clever Peter sketch troupe, in which he gamely takes on twenty-five characters, with little more than a battered Stetson and some extremely ropey scenery to back him up. 

There’s an amiable, ramshackle quality to this piece, that only serves to add to the general hilarity. When Hartley manages to inadvertently knock over some of the aforementioned cardboard scenery, the moment is gleefully incorporated into the narrative – and when, in a later scene, there’s a four way shootout to enact, Hartley rises magnificently to the occasion, snapping from one character to the next, ensuring that we’re never in any doubt as to who is shooting whom – and why.

Meanwhile, Western buffs will have a field day spotting the various cinematic references – with an Ennio Morricone-style music cue here and a Clint Eastwood cliché there. There’s little point in going into the convoluted storyline; suffice to say there are few Western tropes left undisturbed. Hartley cleverly works the titles of scores of iconic movies into his script and, as the story unfolds, I find myself ticking them off in an imaginary box in my head. A climactic sequence, where Hartley is obliged to enact a torrid sex scene with himself, is a particular delight.

While it’s not designed to linger long in the memory, Gun is an ideal vehicle for those audiences looking for a good old belly laugh. Why not mosey on down to the Assembly Rooms and grab yourself a fist full of giggles?

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Endless Second

01/08/19

Pleasance Courtyard (Below), Edinburgh

Theo Toksvig-Stewart’s play about consent is an intense, emotionally demanding piece – and, my word, it’s impressive.

Directed by Camilla Gürtler, Endless Second chronicles the relationship between W (Madeleine Gray) and M (Toksvig-Stewart), two drama students who fall in love on the first day of their course. They’re devoted to one another; they’re sweet and supportive; they meet each other’s families; it’s perfect, idyllic. So when M rapes W one drunken night, it’s hard for her to process exactly what’s happened.

This is a beautifully nuanced piece, at once unflinching and disarming, almost forensic in its examination of the impact of M’s actions. The narrative structure is interesting, and both performances utterly compelling. I especially like the fact that M is never demonised: nice boys do this too, unless they’re taught about consent.

W’s inarticulacy following the rape is heartbreakingly convincing, a clear answer to those who question why women stay with violent men, or why rape victims don’t report immediately. She can’t admit to herself that he did that to her; not M, who’s so kind, so loving, so aware of all his privilege, who’d never hurt anyone. Facing up to what he’s done means shattering her life; no wonder she buries the knowledge deep inside; no wonder it haunts her and changes what they have.

I can’t say I enjoy this play exactly; I spend half of it weeping and am wrung out by the end. It’s clever and thought-provoking and, yes, important too.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Normaler Than Everyone

31/07/19

Gilded Balloon Teviot, Nightclub

The first show of the Fringe is always an uncertain affair. Audiences are still warming up, the performers are finding their feet and the ticketing system is going through the difficult process of ‘settling in.’ So it’s gratifying to start with something so good, and so ideally suited to a Fringe setting. It’s intimate, confessional and thought-provoking – everything you’d want in one handy package.

The lights dim and out strolls Brian Joseph, a tall affable American, clearly brimming with self-confidence. He picks up an acoustic guitar and plays in a style that evokes the great Don McLean, a whimsical song about how ‘normal’ he is, how he’s just an ordinary guy with nothing much to say. But don’t be fooled. He has plenty to tell us and it helps that he’s so versatile, delivering songs in a range of styles on a variety of stringed instruments and, at one point, even bashing out a jaunty Randy Newmanesque piece on an electric keyboard.

His set is regularly punctuated by his photographs – indeed, he takes a few pictures of the audience along the way and invites us to return the favour – and, as his story unfolds, it gradually begins to dawn on me that there is a darker subtext here, one that is finally revealed in a moment that actually hits me like a punch to the solar plexus. I won’t spoil it by revealing what it is, but prepare to be moved.

Joseph guides us expertly through his ‘based-on-real-experience’ story, manipulating his audience with real aplomb and somehow, after dragging my emotions over the coals, he still manages to send me out of the show, singing the chorus of his final song over and over. (Apologies to anyone unlucky enough to be in earshot.)

If this is a portent of what’s to come this year, then bring it on. But whatever the case, Normaler Than Everyone is well worth your attention.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Horrible Histories: The Movie – Rotten Romans

29/07/19

Chosen simply by virtue of being the only film currently on release that we haven’t seen, Horrible Histories is a cinematic adaptation of one of the much-loved books by Terry Deary and the even more-loved CBBC series – hence that needlessly complicated title. Lovers of the TV shows can rest assured that this is the usual compendium of immensely likable historical humour, with regular references to poo, vomit and uncontrollable bouts of anal wind. My inner eight-year-old found plenty to snigger about, while the adult parts of me enjoyed some clever references to actual historical events.

Skinny misfit Atti (Sebastian Croft) is bored with family life in Rome and longs for some adventure. He gets it, unexpectedly, when his nefarious attempt to earn money by selling bottled ‘gladiator sweat’ earns the ire of the brattish Emperor Nero (Craig Roberts). He promptly banishes Atti to ‘that stain in the corner of the map’ better known as Britain. Now the world’s least-convincing Roman soldier, Atti’s not in Pictish territory for long before he’s kidnapped by Orla (Emilia Jones), a teenage wannabe warrior-woman, desperate to prove to her father, Arghus (Nick Frost), that she has the right to wield a sword. The two youngsters soon take a shine to each other, but – predictably – they are somewhat star-crossed. Meanwhile, Boudicca (Kate Nash) is raising a massive army in order to take on her rotten Roman overlords…

This is rollicking stuff, the jokes hitting the screen with such frequency that if you don’t like the first one, don’t worry, there’ll be another along in just a few moments. The humour largely comes from filtering historical references through a contemporary perspective – Atti’s parents threatening to limit his ‘scroll time’ being a typical example. Legions of well known actors pop up in cameo roles, with Derek Jacobi even reprising his classic performance as Claudius and Kim Catrall relishing her stint as Nero’s interfering mother, Agrippina. And of course, there are several songs, though for some of the earlier ones, the lyrics are somewhat buried behind an over-exuberant rock accompaniment – a pity, because the lyrics I do manage to hear are playfully witty.

Occasionally, the budget restraints show: the pitched battles never seem to feature quite enough extras, and there clearly wasn’t enough dosh to buy Paulinus (Rupert Graves) some decent horse riding lessons… but overall this is a fun romp that will keep all but the pickiest audience members suitably entertained. There are no kids in evidence at the showing we attend, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

There’s plenteous laughticus.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Tommy’s Banglacafé

28/07/19

South Charlotte Street, Edinburgh

We’re not supposed to be eating out tonight. The ingredients for a delicious oven-baked risotto are waiting for us at home. But we’ve had a few errands to run in the New Town and, on our way back, Tommy’s Banglacafé catches our attention. This is hardly surprising, as there is a brightly painted tuk tuk bike on the street outside, and the entrance is festooned with gorgeously gaudy flowers and, yeah, a tiger. It looks vibrant and enticing, so we head up the steps. Just to look at the menu, mind.

The member of staff who greets us is friendly and enthusiastic, handing us fliers and giving us time to peruse what’s on offer. We walk away, cheerily informing her we’ll be back another day. But we’re barely two hundred yards away before Philip starts up. ‘I mean, we really shouldn’t go there now, should we?’ he says.

‘No.’ I’m holding firm.

‘There’s that risotto at home,’ he continues. ‘Although…’

‘Although what?’

‘Well, it’s not like I couldn’t make that tomorrow instead. No, no, we shouldn’t…’

I laugh at him. ‘Come on then,’ I say. We turn around and head back to the restaurant. The woman at the door doesn’t look remotely surprised.

‘Table for two?’ she grins.

Tommy’s Banglacafé is the latest venture from Tommy Miah, and offers a range of Bangladeshi cuisine. The focus is on street food; this is a relaxed, informal room, with a huge, glitzy bar and a bold colour scheme. It’s modern and fun, and we’re glad we’ve come inside. As soon as we’re seated, we’re offered ‘free chai’ – of course we accept.

Sipping on the nutmeg-rich chai, we’re not sure how much food to order, but go for two small plates, one house special and some meat from the grill. It’s more than enough; the portions are very generous. They all arrive together, and we dip in and out of each dish, relishing the distinctive flavours and robust spicing.

The standout is probably the Fakruddin Kacchi Biryani, which is both familiar and unusual. There’s cassia bark in it, I think, which adds a singular perfume-y note. It’s delicious, packed with slow-cooked lamb; it’s bursting with flavour. It comes with a side of raita, which complements it perfectly. The portion is huge – probably enough for four, I’d say. We do our best to finish it between us, but can’t quite manage it.

There’s more lamb (of course) in the Lamb Shatkora Kebab, this time cooked with ‘Bengali lemon’ and caramelised onions. It’s utterly delicious – a smaller dish, this one, and a superior cut of meat. It’s great.

We also have some Bagerhat Prawns (fried in gram flour and chilli) and Tommy’s Jhal Muri (which is a mixture of spicy puffed rice, dried lentils, peanuts and chickpeas). These are lovely too. Philip is especially taken with the Jhal Muri, and keeps making appreciative noises as he devours it. We have some Paratha Bread too, which is nice, but we’ve more than enough food, so a tad unnecessary perhaps.

With a glass of Pinot Grigio and a pint of Cobra, the bill (including service) comes to just over £50. Tommy’s Banglacafé is a welcome addition to the Edinburgh food scene, and one that doesn’t break the bank.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

 

The Current War

26/07/19

This biopic concentrates on the rivalry between two famous inventors and their race to be the first to give America the ‘miracle’ of electric light. The film starts in the year 1800, with Thomas Edison (Benedict Cumberbatch) on the verge of a breakthrough with his direct current system. But then up pops George Westinghouse (Michael Shannon), already a rich man from the gas industry, who proposes an alternating current version, which, he insists, will provide a cheaper and more powerful solution to the problem.

In the ensuing struggle to win the contract to light up America, fair play falls by the wayside; meanwhile, a Croatian genius by the name of Nikola Tesla (Nicholas Hoult) struggles to make waves with a series of inventions that have the potential to eclipse the achievements of both Edison and Westinghouse combined.

It’s a fascinating but incredibly complex story, and Michael Mitnick’s script intially feels scattershot as it leaps frantically from location to location in an attempt to nail down all its disparate elements. But it’s worth sticking with, because – after a rather shaky start – the film hits its stride and becomes genuinely compelling, with director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon doing a creditable job of capturing the period. The film highlights a fascinating conundrum when Edison is approached to use his technology to create a ‘humane’ way of executing criminals.

There’s a starry cast here with the likes of Tom Holland, Katherine Waterston and Matthew Macfadyen relegated to supporting roles.

It’s clear where the filmmakers’ loyalities lie. Edison is exposed as a hypocrite, a man obssessed with winning at all costs, at first opposed to using his technology as a weapon, next electrocuting animals willy nilly in order to cast his rival in a bad light. Westinghouse, on the other hand, is portrayed as a much more reasonable type, a man willing to step aside from the glory in order to achieve the greater good. It’s also clear (correctly in my opinion) that Tesla is held up here as the true genius, a man who constantly found his ideas appropriated by his rich financiers and who died destitute, without ever achieving his extraordinary potential.

The Current War isn’t exactly a perfect film, but it does illuminate the difficult birth of something that we now all take for granted, an invention that genuinely transformed the world as we know it. It also depicts the depths that people will sink to in order to see their names go down in history.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Lion King

19/07/19

Much to the dismay – and often outright incredulity – of every millennial I know, I’ve never seen the original Lion King. I mean, I’ve seen the original original (Hamlet), but not the much-loved 1994 animation. Quelle horreur! So it seems tonight’s the night to – sort of – put that right, by reclining in my brand new leather Cineworld seat and checking out Jon Favreau’s new CGI adaptation.

It looks… ravishing. It’s stunningly impressive. The animals are so perfectly rendered I find myself thinking of it as ‘live action’, then have to remind myself that these are computer-generated images, not real wildlife at all. It’s truly awesome; I’m sure that even ardent fans of the cartoon would enjoy this iteration.

Because – apparently, according to Philip – it’s faithful to the original. It feels like a  lovingly recreated version of an old favourite, using new technology to enhance the look.

For those even further out of the loop than me, this is the story of Simba (JD McCrary/Donald Glover), a lion ordained for greatness. When his father, King Mufasa (James Earl Jones), is killed by his evil uncle Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor), Simba has to leave the plains he is destined to rule. He buries his sadness and shame, and forges a carefree life for himself in another region, where he befriends comedy warthog/meerkat duo, Pumbaa (Seth Rogan) and Timon (Billy Eichner). Meanwhile, Scar and the scary hyenas are destroying Simba’s homeland. Eventually, fate comes calling for the young lion, when his childhood friend, Nala (Beyoncé), seeks him out, demanding his return.

Of course, the story is an old one, so there are few surprises in the script. No matter – it’s beautifully told. Sure, it’s a bit schmaltzy at times (that’s Disney for you), but it doesn’t shy away from the difficult stuff either, and is really rather dark at times. The hyenas (particularly Shenzi, voiced by Florence Kasumba) are genuinely terrifying, and the battles violent and visceral. I do have a few issues with the central premise (I’m not so keen on the idea that some are ‘born to rule’), but – honestly –  my main take-home from this is a sense of marvel at the technical accomplishments.

It’s very definitely worth seeing.

4.1 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Animals

16/07/19

A big hit at this year’s Sundance Festival, Animals is an engaging film about friendship and hedonism. Written by Emma Jane Unsworth, based on her novel, and directed by Sophie Hyde, it’s the story of two women living in Dublin – coffee shop baristas by day and dedicated party animals by night. The two of them have a fierce and loyal friendship and they share a predilection for wine, drugs and casual sex with random strangers.

Indeed, Laura (Holliday Grainger) and Tyler (Alia Shawkat) have elevated the act of getting wasted into a fine art. The trouble is, they are now thirty-ish and the people around them – including Laura’s older sister, Jean (Amy Molloy), herself a former wild child – are taking their feet off the accelerator and settling down. What’s more, Laura has long-nurtered a desire to be an author but, after years of sporadic work, she’s only managed to produce ten pages of decent writing.

She thinks she’s hit a turning point when she meets Jim (Fra Fee), a talented and dedicated classical pianist, who rarely takes a drink and consistently avoids late nights. The two of them fall for each other, and Laura starts to seriously consider marrying him, but this drives a wedge between her and Tyler, who is admant that she will not change her spots. And then louche would-be poet, Marty (Dermott Murphy), a man not unfamiliar with booze and drugs, wanders into the scenario and casts his gaze in Laura’s direction. Things get even more complicated…

There are two superb performances at the heart of this belated coming-of-age story. Shawkat is a quirky delight but it’s Grainger who does most of the heavy lifting here, managing to convey Laura’s conflicted persona with consummate skill. Anybody who has experienced some debauchery in their youth – and let’s face it, that covers most of us – will identify with this story. Laura’s discovery that to be a successful writer requires hours of dedication is no great revelation, but it’s eloquently told and well worth saying.  This may be a well-trodden story arc, but it manages to cleverly avoid the clichés. Laura doesn’t need rescuing, she doesn’t need to take drastic measures, she merely needs to exercise a little control over her own life. It’s unusual to find a movie with two female leads and, after the poor performance of the fabulous Booksmart, let’s hope Animals does as well as it deserves. It is well worth your attention.

And you can discuss it afterwards… preferrably over a bottle of wine.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney