Takeaway

08/08/15

Kes Theatre Company, The Spaces On The Mile, Edinburgh

The streets of the East End are under threat from a dreadful new scourge… that most devious and all-encompassing of drugs… onions! And now the kids are hanging around outside a local takeaway and consuming them voraciously with little thought for the consequences. But what’s to be done about the problem? This sparky allegory by Jackie Kay, cleverly substitutes illegal drugs for something completely innocuous and manages to both expose the harm that drugs do and the over-reaction that society exhibits when dealing with them.

This is a school production, but it’s a damned good one – and at times the cramped performance space seems to literally strain at the seams to contain the sheer energy and enthusiasm of the ensemble cast. There were thirteen of them out there and as the piece incorporates quite a bit of physical theatre, they did well simply to avoid bumping repeatedly into each other; let alone moving with such evident control and precision. All the performances were exemplary and there were one or two potential stars of the future strutting their stuff in the midst of it.

If there’s a problem with Takeaway, it’s in the final section of the play, where Kay, having nailed her main subject with aplomb then segues into a riff on The Pied Piper of Hamelin – it’s almost as though she realised she needed to add an extra twenty minutes running time and looked around for a suitable fairy tale to tack on the end. Don’t get me wrong, it’s as nicely written as what’s gone before but doesn’t seem to sit comfortably with the rest of the script. But that’s hardly Kes Theatre’s fault. These gutsy young actors, from years 11 to 13 and based in Bath, have come to the Edinburgh Festival to compete with the professionals and have given a really good account of themselves. They should feel justifiably proud.

3. 6 stars

Philip Caveney

Foxfinder

07/08/15

Bedlam Theatre, Edinburgh

Dawn King’s Foxfinder is a gem of a play: it’s serious and playful with an awful lot to say. Set in the near future, the Britain we see here is a dreadful place, a dystopia where people are ruled by fear, and where foxes are the enemy. Sam and Judith Covey, whose farm is underperforming after a difficult year, are visited by Foxfinder William Bloor, sent to ensure there are no foxes on their land. If any are found, the consequences will be dire.

Master of None’s Fringe production is a bit of a gem too. The opening, where Sam (Hugo Nicolson) and Judith (Verity Mullan Wilkinson) are waiting anxiously for the Foxfinder to arrive, is beautifully done: the set, costume and lighting cleverly hinting at a bygone time, making explicit the connection with the witchfinders of old. This is reinforced by the arrival of Bloor, whose silhouetted, hatted figure looms menacingly at the door. When the lights go up and the actors move, the more contemporary setting is revealed – and it’s a relief… until we realise what’s going on.

William Bloor is the most interesting character: he is young, idealistic – and troubled. He has too much power and too little insight; he’s not mature enough to realise the truth of what he does. Indoctrinated since the age of five, he is a vulnerable and dangerous man – and Alex Stutt performs the role with charm and subtlety. He is utterly convincing as the conflicted Foxfinder, confused and disgusted by his sexual desires, and unswerving in his hatred of the evil, cunning fox.

This is a multi-faceted play, where the simple plot belies the myriad allegories. Foxes here are scapegoats for all society’s ills – they represent witches and devils, but the way they are treated aligns them with the persecuted too. This young theatre company clearly relishes the complexity, and their performances lay bare the toll such propaganda takes. Zoe Zak is particularly engaging as neighbour Sarah Box, who is forced to confront the limits of her own morality: will she, Stasi-like, inform on her neighbours to protect herself?

The direction is strong, although there is perhaps a little too much stage traffic at times, with a few unnecessary entrances and exits, but, all in all, this is definitely one to watch.

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Southpaw

06/08/15

Jake Gyllenhaal is always an interesting actor and, in Southpaw, he’s pulled off yet another transformation, piling on the muscle and jettisoning his good looks to play light heavyweight boxer Billy Hope; indeed, it’s hard to believe this is the same actor who gave us the creepy, emaciated ambulance-chaser he portrayed so brilliantly in Nightcrawler. We first meet Billy as he grimly holds on to his title belt in a bruising, bloody confrontation with a much younger fighter. The boxing sequences don’t really compare with the mesmerising, almost dreamlike sequences in Scorcese’s Raging Bull, but they’re nonetheless realistic enough to make the more sensitive viewers wince. But fate is waiting in the wings for Billy. When his wife, Maureen (Rachel McAdams) is accidentally shot dead in a fracas at a charity event, Billy finds himself on a slippery slope downhill as, in quick succession, he loses his licence to fight, his home is repossessed and his daughter, Leila (a winning performance from Oona Lawrence) is taken by child protective services. This is all harrowing stuff and director Antoine Fuqua mines it expertly for maximum distress; at several points I find myself tearing up. Can Billy ever find redemption and rebuild his career? Hey, is the Pope a Catholic?

It has to be said that from this bleak first third, the film enters a very familiar trajectory as Billy teams up with washed-up-boxer- turned-trainer, Tick Wills (Forest Whitaker), who quietly guides his protégée back to the top of his game. (Anyone who’s seen Rocky, will know the form. In that film, Burgess Meredith did pretty much the same with Rocky Balboa.) Whitaker manages the role with his customary skill and there’s a surprisingly decent turn from 50 Cents as a mercenary boxing promoter (who ironically declared his own ‘strategic’ bankruptcy recently – is this where he got the idea?).

Maybe Billy’s fall from grace is a little over the top – could anybody as successful as Hope fall quite so fast and quite so hard? And maybe his path back to championship fitness in just six weeks is a little too easy, encapsulated as it is in a perfunctory training montage. But nevertheless, the final confrontation is compelling enough to keep you on the edge of your seat till the final count.

All in all, this is decent entertainment with a distinctly gloomy edge.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Our Teacher’s A Troll

06/08/15

Roundabout@Summerhall, Edinburgh

Edinburgh has a fantastic new festival venue in Paines Plough, Summerhall. From the outside, it looks fairly unprepossessing and you think, ‘Oh, it’s a tent.’ But once you step inside, all preconceptions are swept aside. This is a fabulous theatre-in-the-round, complete with state-of-the-art programmable LED lights and a crystal clear sound system – but, even more remarkably, it can be dismantled piece-by-piece and packed into a single lorry, to be taken anywhere in the world. Roundabout are justifiably proud of their new baby and offered a pre-festival sneak peek at one of their upcoming plays – Our Teacher’s A Troll by Dennis Kelly.

Kelly must be one of the most eclectic writers in the business. It’s hard to link this chirpy slice of children’s theatre with DNA or Utopia or his TV sitcom, Pulling, but they are all the work of an accomplished and creative mind. OTAT tells the story of two ‘terrible’ twins at an inner-city school, who, having driven their head teacher to a nervous breakdown (she’s found eating sand in the sandpit), discover that her replacement is something that they could never have expected – a gigantic flesh-eating troll with a hard line on troublemakers. The children at the school are made to dig up the playground and work in the resulting goldmine, while the troll takes action against anyone who is unruly (pupils and teachers alike) by biting off their heads.

This is a two-hander: the twins (and everyone else in an extensive selection of characters) are portrayed by Sian Reese-Williams and Abdul Salis, who effortlessly switch from character to character, occasionally using a voice-transforming microphone to embody the unseen but terrifying troll. The duo’s command of the circular stage is total and there’s plenty of lively interaction with members of the audience. The play is suitable for children aged 7 and up, but there’s plenty here to entertain the grown-ups also, and only the grumpiest audience members will fail to be enthralled as the tale unfolds. So parents of young children, take note. This is too good a treat to miss and it’s on until the 23rd August, with the hardworking actors (who are also appearing in other productions at the same venue) taking only an occasional day off throughout the run.

4.3 stars

Philip Caveney

Assembly Rooms Launch

05/08/15

Assembly Rooms, George Street, Edinburgh

The Assembly Rooms on George Street is one of the Fringe’s finest venues, its architecture creating an opulent backdrop for an eclectic range of shows.

This year’s offerings are many and varied; I’ll wager there’s something here for everyone. The selection we were offered last night barely scratched the surface, but still encompassed no less than seven genres of music – from comic ditties to classic crooning. There was theatre too, and comedy: it was a promising introduction to the latest festival.

There were too many acts to name them all, and we only saw a small sample of what they do (although we’ll definitely be back to find out more).

Standouts, though, included The Missing Hancocks, a recreation of four Hancock’s Half Hour radio scripts that have not been heard since the 1950s. Kevin McNally’s Hancock is delightfully accurate, with all the lugubrious charm of the man himself, and Robin Sebastian does a cracking Kenneth Williams. The scripts are funny in themselves, but they are performed here with vim and gusto and enough ‘new’ character to make them worthwhile in their own right (The Music Hall, 4.15pm – alternating daily between Show A and Show B).

Canadian Tom Stade’s stand-up was another highlight. He lives in Scotland now, and spent most of this short set ruminating on the cultural oddities his relocation has thrown up. His laconic style is utterly engaging, and this brief offering augers well for the full-length show (The Ballroom, 9.40pm – nightly).

We also enjoyed Christine Bovill’s Piaf, a delightful homage to a woman Bovill clearly adores. The songs are sung with warmth as well as precision, and Bovill is an engaging raconteur too, explaining both what the songs mean to her – and what they meant to Piaf herself. This is undoubtedly one to watch (The Spiegeltent, 7.20pm, various dates).

This was a strong start to this year’s Fringe at the Assembly Rooms – and, here at Bouquets and Brickbats, we are very excited about the next three weeks.

(We have decided not to include a star-rating for launch events, as it’s impossible to rate such a diverse collection of excerpts.)

Susan Singfield

Richard Herring – An Appreciation

05/07/15

We’re in Edinburgh and we’ve just been to an official launch party at the Assembly Rooms and in just two days, Ed Fest 2015 kicks off in earnest. For us, it’s always one of the most exciting, one of the most essential times of the year and yet here at Bouquets and Brickbats, we are unable to shake off the profound sense that something is missing; because this is the first year in absolutely ages that Richard Herring isn’t doing the Edinburgh Festival.

Let me explain. I am a relative latecomer to the fringe. The very first year I came to it (2010), pretty much the first thing Susan, my daughter Grace and I saw was Christ on A Bike: The Second Coming, Herring’s scurrilous take on the bible and the teachings of the Messiah. To say we loved the show would be an understatement. Indeed, I laughed so much I was in danger of giving myself a hernia.

Every year after that, our first task on arriving in Edinburgh was to book to see whatever Herring’s current show happened to be. Last year, we had a double delight. Not only was he performing Lord Of The Dance Settee, he had also written and produced a play, I Killed Rasputin, a surprisingly serious but rather enjoyable historical piece that was clearly a result of his obsession with ‘Russia’s famous love machine.’ We enjoyed and reviewed both shows, but Herring’s daily blog later revealed that he’d actually lost a lot of money at the festival. Of course, everyone loses money at Edinburgh, but this was a major loss– something like fifty grand – and he was thinking very seriously about not turning up the following year. We were pretty dubious about this claim. After all, Herring was the ‘King of the Fringe.’ Of course he’d be there. He had to be.

But matters were compounded when earlier this year Herring’s wife, children’s author Catie Wilkins gave birth to the couple’s first child and Herring found himself reluctant to be too far away from his daughter. So this year, instead of coming to Edinburgh, he’s decided to perform all twelve of his Edinburgh shows – plus a brand new one – over six weekends at the Leicester Square Theatre. It’s a positively Herculean task and one that is entirely typical of the man who must have a valid claim to being the ‘hardest working comedian in history.’

So, if you’re in London and you’re available to see some (or indeed all) of his Leicester Square shows, do go along and see what he has to offer. You won’t be disappointed. You’ll witness a breadth of invention that will stagger you. Meanwhile, in the vibrant buzz of Ed Fest, in the wonderful chaos that produces more than 3000 new shows every day, there will still be an empty stage that somehow will always belong to Richard Herring.

And there will remain the hope that maybe next year… if we cross our fingers and wish as hard as we can… he’ll return. We’ll catch up with him next at Manchester’s Lowry Theatre in February 2016. Can’t wait.

Philip Caveney

The Legend Of Barney Thomson

29/07/15

Robert Carlyle has been suspiciously quiet of late, but The Legend of Barney Thomson, based on a series of novels by Douglas Lindsay, puts him on both sides of the camera, as he directs and stars in this gruesome farce concerning the misadventures of a Glaswegian barber. Barney (Carlyle) has been working at Hendersons for most of his adult life but because he lacks ‘the chat,’ he’s beginning to prove unpopular with the regular customers and is on the verge of being given the push. This is a disaster for him as Barney is a tragic character. He has no real friends and his diffident personality (a far cry from Begbie in Trainspotting) means that everyone takes advantage of him. This includes his pushy mother, Cemolina, (a scene-stealing turn from Emma Thompson as a chain-smoking, foul mouthed harridan with a gambling addiction.) Meanwhile, Glasgow is being rocked by a series of murders, made even more shocking by the fact that the killer has a predilection for mailing body parts from the victims (all male) to the next of kin. Events become more complicated when Barney unexpectedly finds himself in the frame as a potential murder suspect and soon falls under the watchful gaze of the vicious DI Holdall (Ray Winstone).

Once you get past the outrageous nature of the plot and the fact that everything is played with the volume turned up to eleven, there’s much to enjoy here as the hapless Barney stumbles from one potential disaster to another. Carlyle uses some infamous Glasgow locations as his backdrops and even though the results are unlikely to endear themselves to the Scottish tourist board, they give the film a definitive look and style that speaks volumes. There are also some superb cameos here – Tom Courtney as the priggish Chief Superintendent McManaman is an absolute hoot, while Ashley Jenson makes a meal of her role as an uptight Detective Inspector locked in a bitter feud with Holdall.

While the film is far from perfect, it’s nonetheless entertaining and occasionally had the sparse audience at the showing we attended laughing out loud. But a quick glance around the less-than-packed auditorium speaks volumes for its chances of success. A pity, because this is a bold film, that takes no prisoners. And that’s a rare thing in these troubled times.

3.7 stars

Philip Caveney

Inside Out

28/07/15

Viewers of a certain vintage may retain fond memories of The Numskulls – a weekly story in The Beano which featured the inside of a young boy’s head and the cartoon creatures that operated his moods, emotions and functions. The similarities are probably coincidental, but with Inside Out, it’s as though the team at Pixar took that same basic premise and elevated it to levels of sophistication that The Beano could only dream of.

Most of the action takes place inside the emotional world of a young girl called Riley, who has recently been uprooted from her home in Minnesota to live in an unfamiliar new house in San Francisco. The dominant force in her world up to this point has been Joy (voiced by Amy Poehler) but as Riley’s comfortable existence is rocked by unforeseen problems, the other resident emotions – Sadness, Anger, Disgust and Fear start to exert their influences too. Writer/directors Pete Docter and Ronaldo Del Carmen have created a complex internal world where everything depends on the different emotions working together as a team. Joy is convinced that in order for Riley to be truly happy, her influence must dominate proceedings. When Sadness (Phyllis Smith) attempts to be involved, the equilibrium is upset and Riley’s world appears to be in danger of coming apart at the scenes. Joy and Sadness now have to team up in order to put her back on an even keel.

Pixar have always been brilliant at creating films that are as appealing to adults as they are to children and after a recent run of disappointments (Cars 2 anyone?) it’s great to see them back at the top of their game. Indeed, Inside Out is so sophisticated you can’t help suspecting that the adults get by far the better deal here; where else would you find a kid’s animation that gleefully references Roman Polanski’s Chinatown? Don’t get me wrong, the film is surely big enough and shiny enough to keep the younger members of the audience happy, but they’ll be missing so many sly in-jokes and observations that can really only be fully appreciated once maturity has kicked in.

Suffice to say that this is delightfully inventive stuff that never loses pace or its unerring sense of direction, and there’s a conclusion here that will wring real tears from all but the stone-hearted. When Pixar was purchased by the Disney organisation, there was much dark speculation that it would find itself neutered by the House of Mouse, so it’s heartening to report that Inside Out steers well clear of the usual ‘quest for happiness’ ending and opts instead for something a tad more realistic. Don’t miss this one – and whatever you do, don’t feel that you need to have a child in tow in order to enjoy it. This film would give Sigmund Freud a run for his money.

Don’t be in too much of a hurry to vacate your seats either. In the usual Pixar tradition, there’s an end credit reel that provides some of the film’s funniest moments.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

We Are The Multitude/Gary: A Love Story

24:7 Theatre Festival, Manchester

26/07/15

Time was when the 24:7 theatre festival spanned a whole week and featured a host of new productions. Over the past 11 years it’s played to 40,000 people and has enjoyed the backing of the Arts Council and Manchester City Council. This year, largely because of difficulties with funding, the festival has been drastically scaled down to a single weekend, featuring just a handful of plays and talk is that this may even be the last time it happens: a real tragedy if that proves to be the case because it has always been a source of exciting, thought-provoking theatre and this year proves to be no exception. I hope it won’t end here, and it was heartening indeed to see that the John Thaw Theatre was absolutely packed for the two performances that B & B managed to attend.

We Are The Multitude, written by Laura Harper and directed by Liz Stevenson, is a tightly constructed two-hander which plunges a couple of University office employees into a long dark night of the soul (or more accurately a morning and afternoon of it) when they discover that they are the only workers who have come in to the office on the day when it has been occupied by ‘The Multitude,’ a group of militant activists who are threatening to blow the place to kingdom come, if their demands are not met.

Simon (Andy Blake) is a once-promising author who after failing to write the difficult second novel has had to buckle down to the realities of an unfulfilling desk job. Lisa (Amy Drake) occupies the desk next to him and is currently preparing herself for a meeting with HR, citing bullying from her boss, after she refused to allow Lisa to take time off to attend a funeral – that of her neighbour’s cat.

The chalk and cheese pairing of the two protagonists yields plenty of laughs – right from the start it’s clear by the state of their respective desks that here are two people who are destined to get right up each other’s noses – but as their situation becomes ever more perilous, they inevitably begin to open up to each other and reveal the tragic truths of their respective situations. It soon becomes clear that they have more in common than anyone might have supposed. Both performances are spot on, with Drake in particular mining her hapless character for maximum laughs. There’s also a last minute twist that few people will see coming.

Funny, but ultimately poignant, WATM makes for an entertaining and occasionally surprising hour of theatre.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Gary: A Love Story is writer James Harker’s debut play – but it doesn’t show. This is a confident, assured two-hander, directed with deft precision by Danielle McIlven – and it’s a joy to watch.

The protagonist is Andrew, brother of the eponymous Gary and the hour-long drama charts the ups and downs of their relationship, as they grow from children into young adults. Andrew is the high-achieving older brother, protector of his needier, ‘Mum-says-I’m-special’ sibling. Gary is naive, enthusiastic, excitable and vulnerable, a target for bullies and easy to manipulate. Andrew clearly loves him, but just as clearly finds him exasperating and a drain. They draw together in the face of family turmoil – their father’s leaving; the arrival of a new stepdad. And they fall apart when, on leaving school with good exam results, Andrew is employed on a management training scheme, while Gary, who has failed all of his exams, even the science he has so enjoyed – starts dealing drugs and idling his life away, alienating his family and bringing trouble to their home. Andrew loses patience and they fall out. It’s a heartbreaking tale; poor Gary never stands a chance. The odds are stacked against him: really, what is he supposed to do? He’s a sweet boy; it’s not his fault that there’s no place for him; it’s not his fault he’s not the clever one. Tragically, inevitably, he ends up in gaol – and Andrew is forced to re-evaluate his feelings for the baby brother with whom he has shared so much.

The set – two chairs, an old juke box and stacks of cardboard boxes – is a treasure trove of evidence, bearing witness to the past. When Andrew, in the grip of emotion, begins to destroy it, the whole edifice explodes – and it’s a devastating moment for the audience as well.

Both performances here are top-notch. Reuben Johnson, as Andrew, has the showier role, but Craig Morris, as Gary, is the perfect foil.

Truly, this is a gem of a play, with beautifully realised characters and dialogue. I have no doubt we will hear more from playwright James Harker.

4.7 stars

Susan Singfield

Maggie

24/07/15

– How about a zombie film? Starring Alpha-Republican-hardman Arnold Schwarzenegger, you say.

– Nah, I say. I think I’ll pass. I mean, I do quite like stories of the living dead, but I really can’t be doing with all that boring Mr Macho stuff.

– Go on, you say; it might be good. It’s been plucked from Hollywood’s infamous ‘Black List’ of unproduced scripts and championed by Schwarzenegger himself.

– And that’s supposed to make it better?

– Well, we haven’t got anything else planned for the evening.

And, you know I’m a sucker for the whole cinematic experience, even if I’m not so keen on the movie, so yeah, why not? And off we go.

And, oh, but am I glad we did.

Maggie is a zombie movie unlike any I have ever seen. John A Scott III’s debut screenplay is slow and tender, warm and sad. There’s only minimal lurching and wounding, and the bullets put through the zombies’ heads are shot reluctantly and with compassion. Maggie (Abigail Breslin) is a wayward teen, who, having run off to explore the bright lights of the big city, calls home to ask her father (Schwarzenegger) for help. She has been infected and is in quarantine.

This particular dystopia is more humane than most. Infected people are assessed and then allowed home to live out the remainder of their ‘human’ days. When the time comes, they are supposed to return to quarantine, where they will be dispatched via lethal injection. Police patrols have lists of those on furlough, and round up those whose families struggle to give them up. The focus then is not on survival; it’s not about encountering the slavering hoards and protecting what you have from others who want in. Instead, this is the story of a family learning to let go.

There’s not much in the way of backstory or character development – and I think that’s to the film’s credit. Maggie’s likes and dislikes, dreams and fears are just not that important now. She and her family are living in the present, dealing with the day-to-day. We are trusted to engage with their predicament on this human level; the fripperies we use to label and identify are stripped away and we are left with just the basics: love and empathy and muddling-through. I thought it was wonderful. Even the dragged-out ending (Now? No. Now? Not yet. Now?) served to underline the hardship: how do we know when the time is right; when are we ever ready to accept a loved one’s death?

So this is a zombie movie, yes, but it’s also unlikely to appeal to those in search of frights and thrills. It’s more of an allegory, really, for the way we deal with disease and disaster. (And yes, I know that zombie movies are usually allegorical to some degree, but this is one more so. It’s Allegory Plus.)

It’s definitely worth watching.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Bouquets & Brickbats

Theatre – Film – Comedy – Food

Takeaway

Foxfinder

Southpaw

Our Teacher’s A Troll

Assembly Rooms Launch

Richard Herring – An Appreciation

The Legend Of Barney Thomson

Inside Out

We Are The Multitude/Gary: A Love Story

Maggie