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

Lou Sanders: Excuse Me, You’re Sitting On My Penis Again

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18/08/15

Laughing Horse@City Cafe, Edinburgh

It’s thanks to Richard Herring that we’re here. We heard his RHLSTP (Ruh-Huh-Luh-Stuh-Puh!) interview with Lou Sanders, and rather liked the sound of her. So we sought out her show in Edinburgh, and we’re very glad we did.

This is a Free Fringe event, and the venue’s a bit on the rough and ready side – a hot and sweaty cellar room, with fold-up chairs and no raking – but we’ve got seats at the front and we’re comfortable enough. And Sanders is every bit as daft and energetic as the podcast suggested.

The show’s premise is typically odd: Sanders decides to apply to Eton. Why not? Everybody knows that Eton alumni are hugely successful. Why shouldn’t a grown woman without access to the fees apply to an elite boys’ school? What could possibly go wrong?

Sanders is a charming performer. The show is ridiculous – in a delightful way. There are masks, there are audio clips, and there’s a lot of silliness – but, actually, there are serious points being made here too. Why is privilege only conferred on to a few? Why do the rest of us accept we can’t have what they’ve got?

So if you’re at a loose end at 5.30pm, and find yourself in the Old Town – this one’s definitely worth queuing for.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

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

The Human Ear

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16/08/15

Roundabout@Summerhall, Edinburgh

Sian Reese-Williams and Abdul Salis must surely be the hardest working actors at this year’s fringe. Starring in no less than three duologues at Roundabout (Our Teacher’s a Troll, Lungs and The Human Ear), the number of lines they’ve managed to learn is impressive in itself; that their performances are consistently first-rate is nothing short of amazing.

All three pieces are directed by George Perrin, and there’s a distinctive style to his work. There’s no set, no props, no fancy costumes. Instead, there’s a blank stage, two actors – both casually but anonymously clothed – and a lot of clever lighting (designed by Emma Chapman). There’s no attempt at naturalism here, no attempt to physically create a space. Where the characters are (on the doorstep, at home, in bed, in IKEA) is told us through the dialogue; the actors’ movements represent instead the characters’ emotional distance – they circle each other, move close together, far apart – and it’s done so well we never question it.

In The Human Ear, Reese-Williams plays Lucy, a recently bereaved young woman, whose estranged brother turns up unexpectedly. Salis plays both the brother, Jason, and Lucy’s policeman boyfriend, Ed. He switches effortlessly between roles, without relying on any of the usual techniques: there’s no obvious change of stance, no particular mannerism added, no vocal tic or new accent. He just is, somehow, a different man.

Time-shifts are similarly deftly shown. There are no pauses in the dialogue – the flashbacks are unbidden thoughts within conversations – but the lighting (a masterclass in precision) makes clear exactly where we are.

There is a lot to admire about this play. The premise is exciting and it’s beautifully performed. If, in the end, the pay-off isn’t quite as satisfying as what’s gone before, it’s still a production well-worth seeing.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Submarine

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14/08/15

The Space On Niddry Street, Edinburgh

Based on Joe Dunthorne’s novel (already made into a successful film by Richard Ayoade) Popcorn Productions have scored a bit of a coup by bringing the very first stage production of Submarine to the Edinburgh Fringe. In the close confines of the Space On Niddry Street, a large cast manage to coax plenty of laughs from a near sold-out audience. As Oliver Tate, Jonas Moore makes a strong impression, getting across the lead character’s various tics and traits with aplomb as he begins a halting (and it must be said, rather weird ) romance with his sulky classmate Jordana (Rachel Kelly). The two leads are ably supported by an energetic young cast who portray his schoolmates, his family and his neighbours.

Most of the real laughter occurs in the first half. As matters become more serious, so the story becomes rather less convincing. Maybe the original tale is simply a little superficial, dealing with quite serious issues in a lightweight manner – and perhaps if everyone in the cast had as much gravitas as Josh Hunter, who plays Oliver’s bewildered father, Lloyd, the show would have had more depth. As it is, this is a charming student production that occasionally fizzes into real life – the ‘lecture’ by local mystic Graham Purvis (Tom Titherington) is a particular highlight, ably abetted by the use of clips from his promotional video.

This is a credible attempt at adapting a source novel into a play and all concerned should feel justifiably proud.

3.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Lungs

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14/08/15

Roundabout@Summerhall, Edinburgh

He suggests that they should have a baby – but she has so many reservations. After all, she argues, the world is becoming increasingly polluted and a baby creates an awfully big carbon footprint. ‘Ten thousand tonnes of CO2. That’s the weight of the Eiffel Tower. I’d be giving birth to the Eiffel Tower.’ And… on reflection, maybe the checkout queue at Ikea wasn’t the best place for him to broach the subject in the first place.

On a grey, rainy day in Edinburgh, Lungs by Duncan Macmillan is a breath of fresh air. The witty, sparkling script picks you up by the scruff of the neck and hurls you along in a series of perfectly created flash-forwards as the couple argue, chatter, break up and make up. On route, they suffer all the emotions under the sun as they attempt, by hook or by crook, to become parents. Will they get there? We they end up together? You’ll have to see the play to find out but the snug confines of Paines Plough are the perfect place to watch such a delicious confection and I’m happy to report that the venue was packed. I laughed a lot and in a couple of places my eyes filled with involuntary tears because there are moments in here that everyone can identify with and some moments we all hope we’ll never experience. You’ll emerge from the experience feeling wrung out.

As the young couple, Sian Reece-Williams and Abdul Sallis are every bit as assured as they are in Dennis Kelly’s Our Teacher’s A Troll (also at this venue) and as the story accelerates towards it’s poignant but inevitable conclusion, you’ll be with them every step of the way. Clever, dazzling, intelligent, this is a perfect delight and it’s not to be missed.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Filthy Talk for Troubled Times

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13/08/15

Basic Mountain, Venue 106, Hill Street, Edinburgh

Oh, but Phantom Owl are good. Really, they’re very good indeed: the kind of good that makes you want to raid the superlative cupboard and shower them with accolades.

After the glorious Fault Lines, our expectations are running high. This makes us nervous: what if we’re disappointed by the second of their shows? We’re not. If anything, Filthy Talk for Troubled Times is the stronger of the two; it’s a more intense, demanding piece, allowing this ambitious company the space to show what they can do.

We’re in a  strip club, as close and complicit as the punters themselves, forced to bear witness to an unflinching exploration of the cruelty and misery gender-roles create. The joyless, transactional nature of human relationships is laid bare by the setting, where the veneer of glamour (exemplified by the topless dancer writhing sensuously on a pole as we enter) is soon worn away, exposing the ugly truth that lies beneath.

These are seriously top-notch actors, exhibiting a level of professionalism it’s rare to see at the fringe. Matthew Lillard’s direction is flawless too: the choreography looks effortless but is perfectly orchestrated; the atmosphere is tawdry and menacing – Neil LaBute’s script expertly brought to life. And what a script it is. Through a series of monologues, we are made privy to the inner thoughts of six disparate characters, and made to confront the unpalatable truths their bravado usually conceals.

Make no mistake, this is not an easy play to watch. There are instances of distinct discomfort, not least when Man 3 (a wonderfully brash Steve Connell) sits right next to us and tells us, laughing, of the time his friend raped two gay men in a park. He makes eye contact, inviting us to sanction the act, which – in a way – we do, smiling awkwardly back at him, rendered somehow powerless by the forces of social convention. It’s too tricky to dissent. This moment stays with me all evening, long after we have left the venue. Really, why did I smile?

Each character is fully realised, both by the script and the performances. These are real people, with all the faults and foibles real people have. The naturalistic acting style is beautifully undercut by the more stylised touches (the way the other characters move or speak in unison whenever Waitress 2 (Zibby Allen) speaks; the way Man 1 (Dean Chekvala) uses the others as models to illustrate his tales). This is ensemble work at its best: a real group endeavour with a lot to say about the way we live. It makes me care for the characters – and question my own world. And surely that’s what theatre is all about?

Phantom Owl is an exciting company, and I’m delighted we chanced upon them. If you see just one thing at the fringe this year, make sure it’s one of theirs.

5 stars

Susan Singfield