The Last Queen of Scotland

 

12/08/17

Underbelly Cowgate, Edinburgh

This powerful production by Stellar Quines Theatre Company, commissioned and supported by the National Theatre of Scotland and Dundee Rep, is written by Jaimini Jethwa, and based on her personal experience. It tells the story of the Ugandan Asians, expelled by Idi Amin in 1972. With just ninety days’ notice, they were robbed of everything they owned and despatched to whoever would give them a home. Jethwa’s family ended up in Dundee. Her story is told by an unnamed young woman (Rehanna MacDonald), a character who has grown up in Scotland but who is still slowly coming to terms with what happened to her family when she was a baby.

MacDonald delivers an incendiary performance, pacing restlessly back and forth across the stage as she recalls her childhood memories, her teenage years running wild on the streets of Dundee and her recent trip back to Uganda to revisit the family home. She’s ably supported by Patricia Panther, who adds some resonant songs to the mix, providing a constant onstage presence, mostly watching in silence as the events unfold. (In truth, I would have liked to have heard a little more from her, but I guess you can’t have everything.)

This is a fascinating slice of history, brilliantly recounted and economically directed by Jemima Levick. Lovers of good theatre shouldn’t miss this one.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Blank Tiles

11/08/17

Assembly George Square, Edinburgh

Some shows grab hold of you instantly – others take a little time to establish themselves. Blank Tiles is definitely a slow burn affair. At first I find myself thinking, ‘Who is this guy? Why is he so repetitive? And why does he keep recording every little utterance he makes?’ And then it begins to dawn on me just where writer/performer Dylan Cole is going with this… and the story becomes more affecting, more tragic, and ultimately heartbreaking.

Austin Michaels is a World Scrabble champion, a man who has memorised over 200,000 words in order to win his world title. As he recounts his story, he constantly refers to a large scrabble board on an easel beside him, using various combinations of the same letters to spell out key points in his life story. But Austin is gradually falling prey to a terrible condition, one that will ultimately rob him of the most important thing in his life – his ability to remember.

This is a powerful monologue, nicely performed by Cole (who, it turns out, is Australian, though you’d never guess it from his Northern Brit accent) and it holds the audience enraptured until its tragic conclusion. Amidst a whole plethora of one-person shows at this year’s Fringe, it’s definitely one you shouldn’t miss. And don’t worry, you don’t have to be a Scrabble aficionado to appreciate this compelling story.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Andrew Doyle: Thought Crimes

 

11/08/17

The Stand, Edinburgh

Andrew Doyle, co-writer of the wonderfully acerbic Jonathan Pie, promises to be controversial. His opinions are, he says, unpopular. He is, in his own words, ‘political and a massive gay.’ But honestly, tonight, it all feels a bit tame.

There’s a lot of audience work at the top of the show, which he handles nicely – he has a clear command of the room. It’s filler though; I want to get down to some substance. The stuff about being gay is not very challenging – a few easy gags about how he’s against gay marriage because, y’know, marriage is a trap. He’s better when he gets to the politics, especially Brexit. I don’t agree with him, but he’s informed and articulate and makes his case well. And he’s absolutely right that there needs to be space for debate; no one wins when we shut each other down.

A shame then that he seeks to shut others down, with a straw man argument against identity politics, citing ‘Otherkins’ as an example of their absurdity. But it’s his argument that’s absurd: no one in this clearly politically-engaged room knows what an Otherkin is; he has to tell us (someone who doesn’t identify as human, apparently), so they’re hardly mainstream; it’s kind of cheap to use them as a means of discrediting other identities in the LGBTQ+ ‘community’, especially at a time when transgender people in particular are facing so much prejudice.

He’s drinking wine on-stage – about two thirds of a bottle of red during the hour – and things do get more interesting as he gets looser. It makes him seem vulnerable; by the end, when he’s talking about losing friends because of what he thinks, he appears to be really hurt. Or maybe that’s all part of the schtick.

Doyle is a fascinating person, and I’ll definitely watch out for him and see what else he does. He’s clever and engaging, and has the crowd laughing throughout. This show could do with a bit more focus though – and less reliance on the easy stuff.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Power Behind the Crone

11/07/17

Assembly George Square, Edinburgh

The Power Behind the Crone is a wonderful piece of theatre, an exemplar of a Fringe show: perfectly suited to its space and time-slot, beautifully scripted, and acted with precision and panache. In case I haven’t made myself clear: I liked it. A lot.

Alison Skilbeck plays Professor Artemis Turret, a Shakespearean scholar, delivering a lecture to a group of mature students (that’s us). The topic is a refutation of the dictum,’There are no good parts in Shakespeare for older women’ and the big draw is Artemis’s old friend, Dame Bunti Smart, an internationally acclaimed actress, who is supposed to be performing the illustrative speeches. But, not for the first time it seems, Bunti lets Artemis down, and the Professor is forced to play the parts herself. Reluctant at first, she throws herself into the performances, unearthing her own talent in the process.

Skilbeck’s delivery is flawless. From the Grenfell-like humour of the Professor to the pride of Paulina, from the bitterness of Queen Margaret to the bawdiness of Mistress Quickly, Skilbeck has absolute control of the material and creates distinct, believable characters. It’s fascinating: the fictional lecture serves the same function as an actual lecture, albeit the most engaging one I’ve ever sat through. I’m learning as I watch; plays I know well are re-positioned, the older women highlighted.

It’s genuinely illuminating.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

 

England is Mine

10/08/17

England is Mine, the Morrissey biopic, is a bit of a let-down – much like the man himself. And, believe me, this is not a sentiment I’m happy to express. I loved Moz as a teenager and young adult; I still love the Moz I carry in my heart. It’s just hard to reconcile the boy he was with the immigration-hating Farage-fan he has become in later life. I hoped the film might redeem him – and it does, to some extent – but it’s a weak, diluted story, that leaves out all of the interesting bits.

There is stuff to admire: Jack Lowden is ace in the lead role, convincingly conflicted, straddling that odd line between shyness and arrogance. The first forty minutes or so are very good indeed, conveying a real sense of the stultification Steven Patrick felt, trapped in a world where no one saw more for him than the same as they had, all repetitive jobs and dull relationships. Linder (Jessica Brown Findlay) is a lone bright star, opening up the world to him. And Billy Duffy (Adam Lawrence) offers another ray of hope, another route out of this Billy Liar life: these two characters are particularly well-acted, their larger-than-life personae portrayed with impressive subtlety.

There are lots of enjoyable little references to Smiths lyrics too: we see young Moz standing ‘under the iron bridge,’ walking through ‘a darkened underpass,’ staring at ‘the rocks below.’ He and Linder enjoy their afternoons at the cemetery, claiming words as their own, or producing the texts from whence they were ripped. There is fun to be had in spotting these.

But, honestly, it’s not enough. Where’s the music? I’m assuming efforts were made to secure the rights to at least some of the Smiths’ output? Or did writer/director Mark Gill really want to make a biopic that misses out the legacy of its main man? Okay, okay, the story ends before the Smiths begin, but surely the closing credits could have incorporated something relevant? Instead, the music throughout fails to set the scene: it’s all the stuff that Moz enjoyed, but there’s no context for it, nothing to show how wonderfully out of step he was. There’s a poster for Duran Duran at the end, which goes a little way towards establishing this idea, but there’s nothing aural to consolidate it. It’s a film about music. The soundtrack really matters here.

Also, there’s half an hour where nothing happens. Almost literally nothing. Moz has lost his rubbish job; his dreams of stardom are in the dust, because Billy Duffy has left him behind. He’s depressed. He takes to his bed. On the rare occasion he gets up, he mopes. If ever there’s a perfect moment for a montage sequence, this is it. We could have whipped through this in five minutes and then moved on. Instead, we’re there with him: bored, fed-up and underwhelmed.

‘To say the least, I’m truly disappointed.’

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Stuart Goldsmith: Like I Mean It

10/08/17

Liquid Rooms, Edinburgh

The poet Cyril Connolly once famously wrote, ‘There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.’ But for some artists – especially comedians – it turns out that pram (or rather its occupant) can be the central premise of a very amusing routine. Take Stuart Goldsmith, for instance. The standup comic and host of the popular podcast, The Comedian’s Comedian, has fairly recently become a father and his baby (and some of the mysterious ailments suffered by her mother) provide Goldsmith with a whole raft of quips and observations.

He’s on good form at the Liquid Rooms (one of the Free Fringe venues), but you’ll need to get there early if you want a seat, because he’s popular and the place gets rammed. Also, don’t forget to take some cash along with you, because it’s considered very bad form indeed to attend without throwing some cash (preferably of the paper variety) into the bucket as you leave. Comedians need to eat – and feed their families – you know.

Goldsmith does a great line in self deprecation and this year, as he’s decided to record his routine at each session, he milks a lot of extra laughs from his wry asides to the recording device, commenting on which jokes went well and which ones clearly sailed over the heads of the audience.

Goldsmith has a very likable persona and a relaxed way with an audience that always makes his sets enjoyable. He was very good last year – and this show is even better.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Deadpan Theatre: Third Wheel

10/08/17

Gilded Balloon Teviot, Edinburgh

Deadpan Theatre’s Third Wheel  is a sparky, original play, with charming performances at its core. Jude Mack and Eliot Salt are Eve and Polly, ex-besties and wannabe lovers, who are reunited after the death of their mutual friend, Dylan (Harry Trevaldwyn). Dylan’s cancer may have killed him, but it hasn’t stopped him trying to heal the rift between these two young women: in a video will, he instructs them to take his ashes on a road trip around the UK. How can they refuse? They can’t. So, reluctant and grumpy, the pair embark on a journey to rediscover the love they feel for each other.

This is a very theatrical piece: there are lifts and balances à la Frantic Assembly; overlapping speech à la Caryl Churchill (I can almost see the ‘interruption slashes’ in the script); an on-stage band that acts as a chorus, commenting on and informing the action. It’s very technique-y, but it doesn’t feel overdone: it’s fun and light; this young company are clearly having fun, enjoying playing with the form.

If there’s a false note, it’s maybe the montages. I like the idea of these, and they work in conveying a sense of distance travelled, time passed. But the animated car/map needs to be a little more thought-out: as a visual clue, it’s disorientating because it bears no resemblance to where we’re meant to be. At the end of one section, for example, there’s a close up of Manchester on screen. And then the characters start talking, and I’m confused, because it seems that they’re in London. While I’m making the leap, I must miss a line or two, because they’re at a train station and I don’t know why (a minute ago they were in a car).

But overall, this is a delightful piece. I love the way the ultra-naturalistic dialogue and speech patterns contrast with the more stylised stuff. The music is a welcome addition, and it’s a funny, quirky story that engages me throughout. The acting is spot-on, the characters nuanced and believable. Okay, so it’s a bit rough around the edges, and not as polished as it might be, but that doesn’t stop it being a little gem. I like it, and I’ll definitely be keeping an eye out for Deadpan Theatre’s future projects.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Phil Wang: Kinabalu

 

 

09/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

I’ve previously only been aware of Phil Wang from his (perfectly pleasant) appearances on TV panel shows. Seeing him do standup has made me completely reassess him. From the moment this young comedian walks onto the stage of the Pleasance Beneath and launches into a convoluted introduction, he has me laughing. By the time we’re halfway through the set this has developed into something approaching hysteria, until there are actual tears streaming down my face. It’s something to do with his doomed attempts to ‘be cool,’ the occasional owlish glances over the top of his spectacles, his clever wordplay and playful invention. All these elements combine to create comedy gold. The section where he describes going to the supermarket to buy ‘lube’ is so funny I actually have difficulty breathing.

Mind you, it’s not all mindless laughter. Wang, the son of a Malaysian father and an English mother, has some interesting observations to make on the nature of nationality and about being a true ‘son of the Empire.’ As somebody who spent much of his childhood in Malaya (as it was then known), I found this aspect of his show particularly interesting, but Wang has the good sense to disguise his message as more humour. Laugh and learn, baby, laugh and learn.

Every year at the Fringe I make some personal discoveries. This year, the first of them is that Phil Wang is one of the funniest comics I’ve seen. Either that, or I’ve gone down with some kind of weird hyena virus.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Matt Forde: A Show Hastily Rewritten in Light of Recent Events – Again!

09/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

My, but this is a boozy crowd! No judgement intended (I can be a bit of a boozer myself) but it’s noticeable: almost everyone entering the room is holding on to at least one pint; many punters are gamely carrying two. Well, it wouldn’t do to run out, would it? I’ve never been so aware of the drinking at a festival gig. And there are a fair number of actual drunks here too: people who, though friendly and good-humoured, have clearly already reached the stage where they might just derail a show. I’ve also never seen Matt Forde before. I wonder if his audience tells me something about him.

Not really, it turns out. Maybe it’s just coincidence. There’s a kind of blokey jocularity to Forde’s delivery which complements the room’s beeriness, and there are indeed interruptions from a group of older men (one wants to go to the toilet; a second worries that the first’s been gone too long; a third just wants to have a chat) but Forde handles it well: he’s friendly and polite, but doesn’t let things stray too far.

Because he has a lot he wants to say – and we all want to hear it. His schtick is political impressions interspersed with commentary, and it’s really very good indeed. The impersonations are witty and well-judged, and the observations show he’s knowledgeable: interested and interesting, letting no one off the hook. Okay, so the Nicola Sturgeon section falls a bit flat (I don’t think there are actually many Scottish people in tonight, so there maybe isn’t enough shared understanding for this to really fly), but most of what he says hits the mark successfully. It’s not massively challenging, but it is thought-provoking: it’s Rory Bremner territory. His Donald Trump is a definite stand-out: as sharp and satirical and funny as can be.

A fascinating show, this one – quite different from most of what’s on offer at the Fringe. It’s well worth an hour of anybody’s time.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Stand Up for Shelter

09/08/17

Underbelly, George Square

The Udderbelly is packed with eager comedy fans who’ve all turned out to support a very worthy cause. MC Suzi Ruffell tells us we’ve already raised over four grand for Shelter just by buying tickets, so we can feel good about ourselves as we laugh. In addition, showcase events like these are a great way of sampling a varied selection of comedians. Because of their brief time allocation, we’re usually left wanting more – but luckily, that’s easily fixed as most of them have their own shows at the Fringe. Ruffell is a lively MC, who communicates well with the audience and handles the inevitable late arrivals with aplomb – then, without further ado she introduces the first act.

We’ve actually seen Richard Herring’s excellent Edinburgh show, Oh Frig, I’m 50!, twice already (we took my parents to his first preview, then went again for reviewing purposes a few nights later), so we’re expecting to find this short set a little over-familiar. Luckily for us, he delivers different material here, and he’s as hilarious, irreverent and charming as ever. A great way to start the show.

We’ve heard Desiree Burch on the fabulous Guilty Feminist podcast, and it’s lovely to finally see her live. As the title of her Fringe show, Unfuckable, suggests, she’s not an act for the prudish: she’s rude and funny, with charisma-aplenty. Good stuff.

Sara Pascoe is of course, another Fringe stalwart. Here she talks mostly about Marks and Spencer knickers and the time when she had the misfortune to be wearing the same ones as her ex’s mother. Her quirky, intelligent take on the world is as evident here as always, and she’s as marvellous as you’d expect.

We’re delighted to see our friend Daliso Chaponda  doing so well since his BGT appearance earlier this year – he’s finally getting the attention he deserves. He absolutely smashes this gig, drawing actual applause from the crowd for gag after gag. He’s pretty hard-hitting, and doesn’t shy away from controversial subject matter (here he focuses on recent news stories about public figures using ‘the N word’ and how context changes everything) but he’s so charming and affable that it’s hard to imagine he could ever offend. It’s a shame he’s been given such a short slot, as the audience is clearly up for a lot more. He’s embarking on a tour early next year, and it’s definitely going to be worth checking him out.

Dan Antopolski treats us to some excerpts from a 50 Shades of Grey type novel that he’s working on. As you might expect, this is salacious stuff, made ridiculous by its over-attention to detail. It’s slyly funny and makes us giggle.

James Acaster ambles out, and makes amiable chit-chat for a few minutes. The conceit here is that he hasn’t bothered preparing, and he keeps looking at his watch, giving us a running countdown until his time is up. It’s a nice idea, and works well for him, perfectly suiting his comedic persona. Even the silences and sighs are funny; he has us all on side.

It’s left to Ed Byrne to close out the show in his own inimitable style. He tells us he only found out about this gig ten minutes before he was due on stage and has run all the way here, but since he has a little longer to stretch out than the earlier acts, he connects really successfully with the audience and his stories about the trials of  fatherhood and his planned vasectomy have us all laughing our socks off. It’s a satisfying end to proceedings, though inevitably it’s overrun and we have to leg it to our next gig.

It is a real treat to see so many great comedians on one bill – and Shelter really is an important cause. Recent news stories about increasing levels of homelessness in Britain (it’s set to double by 2041 according to some reports) show that this is actually no laughing matter. You can donate here: https://england.shelter.org.uk/donate

4.5 stars

Susan Singfield & Philip Caveney