Wiesenthal

05/08/23

Pleasance Courtyard (Beneath), Edinburgh

Simon Wiesenthal is remembered as the infamous ‘Nazi hunter’ – the man chiefly responsible for bringing more than a thousand former members of the Third Reich to justice in the years following the Second World War. In this compelling monologue, written by Tom Dugan, we meet up with the titular character at an auspicious time: on his final day of work before his retirement. In a small, cluttered office, he shares some of his experiences. They range from the sweetly uplifting to the downright harrowing.

Christopher C Gibbs performs the piece with absolute authority, guiding us into Wiesenthal’s life and taking us through the many experiences that brought him to where he is now, still hoping to close his latest case before finally calling it a day. He is at times avuncular, charming, sharing a little joke, or a cannily constructed observation. At other times, we are aware of the righteous anger simmering within him, his outrage at the injustice that was systematically dealt out to an entire race of people.

At several points in this narrative, I’m aware of my eyes filling with tears and I’m powerless to stop them from flowing. But it’s by no means an ordeal. Dugan’s script is skilfully constructed, knowing just when to step back from the horror and when to unleash it. Indeed, what emerges most strongly is the central character’s sense of balance, his acceptance that evil happens and that we do not go after it with vengeance in mind, but with the supreme conviction that everyone must made to answer for their crimes. He also implores us never to forget and to guard against those world leaders who increasingly threaten to take us back down the same path.

Despite the gravity of the subject this is a strangely uplifting story of courage and tenacity, which makes for a riveting theatrical experience. It’s clear from the heartfelt intensity of the applause at the play’s conclusion that the entire audience feels the same way.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Chelsea Hart – Damet Garm: How I Joined a Revolution

04/08/23

Gilded Balloon Teviot – Sportsmans, Edinburgh

Chelsea Hart makes TikTok videos. It’s what they do. So they were taken by surprise when one of their posts went viral in Iran, sparking the kind of fame they never expected to have. After all, it’s not every day you accidentally join a revolution.

Hart is undoubtedly a born performer. Despite their slender frame, they have a huge presence, prowling the small stage. They’re compelling – I can’t look away, and it feels as if they are making eye contact with me almost the whole time. (I wonder if the rest of the audience experiences a similar sensation; is it the same trick as a portrait whose eyes follow you around a room?)

The material is wide-ranging, incorporating – among other things – tales of life in a small Alaskan town, revelations about Iranian culture, trans rights, opera, suicide, dick jokes, abortion and British sarcasm. There is a lot to unpack. In fact, there’s so much here that it’s almost to the show’s detriment: the whole thing feels scattershot and it’s hard to find the through-line that links it all together. There are analogies to be drawn, but they’re lost in the flurry. I think the structure could do with a little work: a stronger arc would lend the shocking ending more impact. I’d also like them to have shown us the original TikTok videos that brought them to the attention of the Iranians, to provide us with something concrete to establish the premise.

That’s not to say this doesn’t work. It does. It’s original and provocative: Hart has great energy and real, well, heart. They are expressive and engaging, exuding both confidence and vulnerability, and their outlook on life is genuinely inspiring. The show’s message is a fine one too: let’s learn from the united liberation movement the Iranian women are leading, and stop being so individualistic. Imagine what we could achieve if we all actually worked together, striving for something good.

3.3 stars

Susan Singfield

The Baron and the Junk Dealer

03/08/23

Assembly Roxy, Edinburgh

Okay, so the Festival doesn’t officially start until the 4th, but it would seem rude not to fit in an extra show when it’s right there for the seeing. The Baron and The Junk Dealer comes from the team behind The George Lucas Talk Show and concerns the adventures of two mysterious fugitives, who are the only survivors of a disastrous crash-landing on a desolate planet. It’s the kind of premise that traditionally calls for a decent production budget but this is the Fringe, and the charming shonkiness of the props somehow works in its favour. A ‘rescue pod’ which is actually an adapted one-person tent, operated by a stagehand, is a particular delight.

The Baron (Connor Ratliff) is a self-important sort, who dresses like a cross between an archbishop and a death metal guitarist. By contrast, the Junk Dealer (Griffin Newman) is twitchy and paranoid, liable to kick off at the slightest thing – and considering the two of them have virtually no provisions, he kicks off quite a lot. It’s also clear from the outset that both characters are hiding something about their respective pasts. As the two men wait for rescue a sort of Godot-like atmosphere prevails.

The snarky, deadpan script, written by Ratfliff, incorporates some interesting twists and turns, and makes wry observations about the nature of storytelling. It’s by turns acidly funny and thought-provoking.

However, as this is a play where we need to hear every word clearly, it’s a shame that Newman is hampered by a novelty elephantine nose, which hangs in front of his mouth and sometimes obscures what he’s saying. The acoustics are further impeded by a noisy air-conditioning unit.

Despite these reservations, I thoroughly enjoy the play and its clever observations. Fans of science fiction in particular will find this play suitably diverting and, for a non-believer like me, BATDD makes for an interesting and unusual start to Fringe 2023.

3. 2 stars

Philip Caveney

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

02/08/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Those sewer-dwelling, pizza-devouring ‘heroes in a hard-shell’ return to the big screen, courtesy of Seth Rogen and his team and it’s clear from the outset that the key word here is Teenage. The word Ninja has also been reinstated – those in the UK with long memories may recall that, for a while, Hero was used as a replacement. How times change. This film only has a PG certificate but it doesn’t hold back on the violence – and clearly the message isn’t getting through. The afternoon screening I attend features quite a few parents trying to handle confused-looking children, who clearly aren’t sure what to make of what’s happening up on the big screen.

TMNT:MM begins with a pre-credit sequence explaining the origin stories of Leonardo (Nicholas Cantu), Donatello (Micah Abbey), Michelangelo (Shamon Brown Jr) and Raphael (Brady Noon). They begin life as part of a disrupted science experiment, and are accidentally flushed down the drain into the sewers. (We’ve all been there.) Down in those malodorous depths they are adopted by friendly rat, Master Splinter (Jackie Chan), who is also affected by the chemicals they’ve absorbed and, like them, grows to be bigger than he should be. After a disastrous attempt to introduce his ‘family’ to human society, Splinter decides that people aren’t quite ready to embrace something so different so he keeps the foursome hidden below ground – but he does give them intensive martial arts training.

Now they are teenagers and itching to be out in the real world, where they can chase after girls and watch Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (it’s pretty clear what decade we’re in). When they see teenager April (Ayo Edebiri) being robbed of her scooter, they cannot stop themselves from helping her out, swinging into action and despatching a whole gang of tough customers with ease. But this starts a complex chain of events that will eventually lead to them taking on mutant master villain, Superfly (Ice Cube), who has dedicated himself to the task of eradicating human life from the face of the planet.

The first thing to say here is that the animation style is ravishing, borrowing some of its look from the Spider-Man animations, perhaps, but adding its own expressionistic dazzle into the process. Occasionally, the four heroes have the solidity of stop-frame animation characters; at other times, they are more fluid, more experimental – and there’s even a delightful childhood experience rendered as crayons on paper. Co-directors Jeff Rowe (of The Mitchells Versus the Machines) and Kyler Spears attempt to keep everything coherent and mostly succeed.

The script, written by Rogan and Evan Goldberg (in collaboration with several others), is obsessed with the horrors of puberty and never misses the opportunity to go for cheap belly laughs. (Want to see somebody puking uncontrollably? It’s here.) This occasionally feels like a bunch of older guys desperately trying to reconnect with their own teenage years and, inevitably, not all of the quips hit their targets as solidly as they might. It’s also true that some of the action sequences – particularly an extended set piece towards the film’s conclusion – are a little muddled at times. Who’s hitting who? With what? And… why?

Reservations aside, I have a lot of fun with this, despite the fact that I’m not a former Turtles fan and barely gave them a glance back in the 80s. It has some interesting points to make about inclusivity but it doesn’t hammer me over the head with them. However, those looking to entertain little ‘uns in the school break should be warned: unless you want to explain a giant rat snogging an enormous cockroach, this may not be the film you’re looking for. Just saying.

Oh yes, stay in your seats for the post-credit bit, which seems to suggest a follow-up is in the works.

3.7 stars

Philip Caveney

Talk To Me

29/07/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

So which other film is prepared to stick its head above the parapet in week two of Barbenheimer? Come on, who thinks they’re hard enough?

Talk To Me, the debut feature of former YouTubers Danny and Michael Philipouhails, hails from Australia, where presumably they’re so fearless they don’t give a damn about the opposition. It starts like most generic teen-terror flicks, but promptly ventures to some unexpected places, pushing its 15 certificate about as far as it can in the process.

The film starts with a short sharp shock: something bad happens at a party. We’re not really given much explanation for it, but that comes later. First, we’re introduced to Mia (Sophie Wilde), who after her mother’s suicide, is feeling disconnected from her father, Max (Marcus Johnson). She’s consequently spending a lot of her time with her best mate, Jade (Alexandra Jensen), and her younger brother, Riley (Joe Bird), watched over by Jade’s mother, Sue (Miranda Otto). The two girls keep seeing some weird footage online posted by a couple of mutual friends, scenes of people seemingly ‘possessed’ at parties and going berserk. Being teenagers, they can’t resist giving it a whirl themselves and, when Riley asks if he can go along, they reluctantly agree.

Soon enough, the three of them are at the party, where Jess (Chris Alosio) and Hayley (Zoe Terakes) bring out a stone hand they’ve ‘acquired.’ One of the guests is invited to take a firm grip of it and say three words (the clue’s in the title), whereupon something rather creepy is sure to ensue.

And of course, Mia volunteers to go first….

That’s all I have to say about the plot, except that it feels like a parable about drugs: how people might be tempted to try them out of curiosity and then decide that they want just one more hit – and how that compulsion might lead them to some very dark places. Those of a squeamish nature should be warned that, as well as enduring psychological damage, some of the characters are subjected to wince-making physical injuries, so this is definitely not for the faint-hearted. The sense of mounting dread is there from the beginning and steadily cranks up as the film progresses, but the weird happenings are never allowed to get too silly, or too unbelievable.

Talk To Me keeps me hooked right to the end and sends me out thinking about what I’ve just witnessed. Co-written by Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman, the story is based on a concept by er… ten other people, which means, I think, that it was created collaboratively.

It’s a wonder it’s turned out as smoothly as it has but, if you enjoy a decent fright film, this offering should fit the bill nicely.

4.1 stars

Philip Caveney

Bring It On

28/07/23

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

If there’s one word that typifies the Beyond Broadway Experience it’s ‘exhilarating’. This revival of the cheerleader musical Bring It On (loosely based on the film of the same name) may be the most spectacular of their productions we’ve seen yet, with over 250 young performers dancing, singing and acting and even somersaulting across the Festival theatre’s massive stage. At regular intervals they also perform in the boxes and even in the auditorium. Between them, they generate enough energy to power the national grid.

Campbell (Ailsa MacLean) is a high school girl, who lives and breathes for cheerleading. Longing to be appointed captain of the accomplished Truman High School squad, she works alongside her pals, the self-obsessed Skylar (Cora Erskine) and her acolyte, Kylar (Jess Taylor). Meanwhile, the hapless Bridget (Ellen Ekland) keeps on trying out for the team, but she’s currently relegated to the role of Truman’s team mascot, complete with comedy costume.

Campbell’s hopes are cruelly dashed when she finds herself despatched to another local school, an entirely different institution from the bastion of privilege that is Truman. At Jackson High, the very idea of cheerleading is looked on with derision. The only other student from Truman to make the transition to Jackson is Bridget, who is delighted to find that she’s actually popular here. Not so Campbell. The ‘crew’ at Jackson, it turns out, have their own way of dancing and are happy to demonstrate how they think it should be done.

Undeterred, Campbell sets about befriending Jackson’s Queen Bee, Danielle (Rhianna Daley), eventually persuading her to set up their own cheerleading squad and even to go in for the National Finals. However, in order to win Danielle over, Campbell makes some pretty wild claims about the prizes that will be up for grabs, including some much-needed scholarships. And then the truth comes out…

There are some terrific performances here. MacLean has a soaring vocal range and Eklund’s assured clowning is a constant delight. I also enjoy the dorky Randal (Duncan Brown)’s impressive vocal performance but, more than anything else, this is an ensemble piece, and hats must be lifted to the choreography team, who have drilled their massive cast to perfection, enabling them to perform in thrilling, powerhouse set pieces that threaten to lift the roof of the building. The sizeable band show a lot of skill, and pump out the gutsy music with elan.

While this is an amateur production, the boundless talent and supreme dedication displayed by these young performers seems to render the word meaningless. Bring It On is, quite simply, a thrill ride.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The 1902 Bar & Grill, Dunmuir Hotel

23/07/23

Newhouse Terrace, Dunbar

We’re meeting up with a couple friends in Dunbar and they’ve booked the four of us in for lunch at The 1902 Bar and Grill, a pleasant dining space in the Dunmuir Hotel, a short walk from where they live. It’s Sunday afternoon and the place is pleasantly busy. The 1902 offers traditional food with a contemporary twist and we’re warned that, since everything is cooked to order, there might be a bit of a wait, so we settle happily down to chat.

We eschew the idea of starters – though they do look pretty enticing – and, as one of the offerings on the menu is a Sunday roast, both Susan and one of our companions decide to go for that. It arrives looking pretty glorious, a generous helping of rare beef accompanied by all the trimmings: roast potatoes, creamed leeks, carrots, broccoli, horseradish sauce and a huge crispy Yorkshire pudding. I have opted for rump of lamb and this too is pretty unctuous, succulent chunks of rare meat accompanied by broccoli, heritage carrots, creamed leeks (again), a nicely-done fondant potato and a delicious haggis bon bon. There’s also a jug of red wine jus, which is quite simply delicious. Meanwhile, our other companion is tucking into a splendid slice of seared halibut, which comes with a dollop of caviar and half a dozen mussels on a bed of mixed vegetables. He pronounces it ‘delightful’ and makes very short work of it.

One of the advantages of skipping the starter is, of course, the fact that we’ve got plenty of room for pudding and The 1902 offers a tempting selection. Susan chooses the strawberry custard tart, which is as pretty as a picture and happily tastes every bit as good as it looks. I’ve been unable to resist an old favourite, sticky toffee pudding, though this version is made with banana, an inspired addition, which adds an extra kick of sweetness to the dish. (As if it needs extra sweetness – but I’m not complaining!) Both puddings come with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and both are consumed to the last crumb.

I can’t fault anything we have; everything is perfectly cooked and beautifully presented. Should you find yourself in Dunbar in the near future, this charming bar and grill is well worth seeking out.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Oppenheimer

22/07/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

What do you do the day after you’ve seen Barbie? You watch Oppenheimer, of course, because some bright spark has decided that, as these two completely disparate films share the same release date, they shall henceforth be known as Barbenheimer. Well, fair enough. I’m just pleased to see the cinemas bustling again, which at least gives me some hope for their future. And I have the sense to see the films over two days, rather than as a bizarre double-bill.

Where Barbie was lighthearted and vivacious, Oppenheimer is deadly serious stuff, a biopic of the man who gave humanity the atomic bomb, along with the distinct possibility of destroying the planet we inhabit. Furthermore, with a running time of three hours, it’s clear that director Christopher Nolan wants us to ponder the titular character’s life in some considerable detail.

Nolan – still smarting, no doubt – from the underwhelming critical response for his previous offering, Tenet, has pulled out all the stops here, choosing to shoot the film using IMAX cameras. This at first seems an odd decision for a film where men in suits talk about physics but Nolan constantly cuts away to dazzling optical displays of nuclear fission, fizzing and popping like surreal fireworks, and there are impressive recreations of Los Alamos in New Mexico.

Ludwig Göransson’s score also impresses though it occasionally underpins some quite complicated dialogue (just as it did in Tenet) and I find myself wishing it would pipe down a bit. Just saying.

Cillian Murphy plays J. Robert Oppenheimer with considerable presence, managing to portray him convincingly at various stages of his life, from wide-eyed young student of physics to embittered elder statesman. Emily Blunt is quietly impressive as his wife, Kitty, and Robert Downey Junior is delightfully devious as Lewis Strauss, the man who sets Oppenheimer on the path to his ultimate destiny. The film boasts a massive cast that positively bristles with A listers, so many it feels pointless to mention them all – but I’ll make an exception for the assured performance of Matt Damon as Lt General Leslie Groves, the man who appointed Oppenheimer to oversee the Manhattan Project.

The screenplay, written by Nolan, sweeps confidently backwards and forwards through Oppenheimer’s chronology, never confusing and constantly throwing out disturbing questions about the nature of mankind’s eternal hubris. The potential danger that the complicated science might be hard to follow is not allowed to become a problem.

Ultimately, the central character emerges as a martyr, a brilliant man encouraged and seduced by the powers that be, then rejected and used as their scapegoat. 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. I know little about Oppenheimer before I see this film and am now fascinated to learn more.

Oppenheimer keeps me hooked throughout and sometimes does the near impossible, creating suspense for an event I already know the outcome of. While this doesn’t quite measure up to Nolan’s finest work, it’s nonetheless an impressive film that deserves the plaudits it’s receiving.

And if it isn’t quite as assured as it’s shocking pink stablemate, well, this is a much tougher tale to tell… and a harder one to stomach.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Barbie

21/07/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I was never much of a Barbie girl. In 1970s Britain, Sindy was the gal du jour, although I didn’t play with my Nurse version of her very often. Despite my indifference, the original grown-up doll – brainchild of Ruth Handler, played here by Rhea Perlman – has more than endured, securing herself a place in the cultural fabric of the western world, at once an impossible ideal and an inspiration, a symbol of toxic beauty standards and glass-ceiling-busting possibility. Barbie’s dilated body, with its uneven weight distribution, might mean that she can’t really support her head and that walking upright is near impossible, but hey, she’s a dentist, an astronaut, a mermaid – even a freakin’ president. Little girls can project a lot more onto her than they ever could onto a Tiny Tears.

And who else but Greta Gerwig could harness this wonderful contradiction and turn it into a pink-fuelled picture, as fierce and funny as it is feminist? This is a clever, sassy, two-hour romp of a movie – and, despite the relentless hype that’s preceded it, it doesn’t disappoint.

Margot Robbie’s ‘Stereotypical Barbie’ is the standard edition, the one we all think of first when we hear those two bilabial plosives. She was clearly born for the role, not just because of her particular brand of gorgeousness, but because she’s got the acting chops as well, imbuing the plastic goddess with humour, strength and vulnerability.

At first, it’s business as usual in Barbieland: the sun is shining, the beach is calling, and every night is girls’ night, with all the many iterations of Barbie just hanging out and having fun. The only doll who’s even slightly unhappy is Ken (Ryan Gosling), who’d love to spend the night with his girlfriend, even though he’s not sure why or what they’d do to pass the time. But then, out of nowhere, Barbie starts to think dark thoughts. What’s happening? Are those… tears? Before she knows it, she’s off to the Real World on what she assumes will be a simple mission to put things right. After all, she’s Barbie, isn’t she? There’s nothing she can’t achieve…

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. “If you love Barbie, this movie’s for you,” says the trailer. “If you hate Barbie, this movie’s for you.” It’s true.

Gosling and Robbie are both excellent comic actors, and the script – by Gerwig and Noah Baumbach – is whip smart, providing plenty of laughter as well as food for thought. The supporting cast are very good too, especially Kate McKinnon as punky outsider ‘Weird Barbie’ and America Ferrera and Ariana Greenblatt as Real World mother and daughter duo, Gloria and Sasha. Helen Mirren voices the omniscient narrator, who adds to the arch knowingness of the film, which – to my mind – is no bad thing. The choreography is as bold and vivid as any Barbie girl could wish (although perhaps the Ken dance routine overstays its welcome), but it’s the costumes and set that really linger in the memory, a series of candy floss confections, liberally dusted with glitter.

The showing we’re at is pleasingly busy, even though it’s 10 o’clock on a Friday morning. There are lots of families here, as well as couples, groups of women, and plenty of people on their own. It really is for everyone. So come on Barbie, let’s go party: dig out whatever pink stuff you have lurking in your wardrobe, and head on down to your nearest cinema.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Luck

16/07/23

Apple TV

After experiencing some er… issues at his old outfit, former head honcho of Pixar John Lasseter has formed his own studio, Skydance Animation, along with a whole bunch of other producers. Their first release, Luck, an Apple original, has all the visual hallmarks of a Pixar production, though directors Peggy Holmes and Javier Abad – and writers Kiel Murray and Jonathan Aibel – don’t seem able to negotiate the fine line between emotion and mawkishness quite as skilfully as Pixar do.

The film starts confidently enough with orphan Sam (Eva Noblezada) turning eighteen and accepting that the ‘forever family’ she’s always longed for simply isn’t going to happen. She must strike out on her own, find a job and learn to fend for herself. It’s refreshing to see an older protagonist at the centre of an animated story and, when we learn that Sam’s always been cursed with bad luck, the point is skilfully demonstrated by a series of beautifully-timed slapstick routines.

But Sam’s luck changes dramatically for the better when she shares a snack with a talking black cat called Bob (entertainingly voiced by Simon Pegg in a dodgy Scottish accent. Don’t worry, it’s explained later…). Bob leaves behind a lucky penny, which Sam picks up – whereupon, her own luck changes for the better. If she drops a slice of toast now, it lands jam side up! But Sam vows to give that penny to a little girl at the orphanage, who Sam knows is hoping to be adopted.

When she inadvertently drops the penny down a toilet, Bob comes back in search of it – and, before she quite knows what’s happening, Sam is accompanying Bob to the legendary ‘Land of Luck’ in search of a replacement…

Luck is a bit of a mixed bag. The early sections, set in the real world, work just fine and hit the chuckle buttons, promising a thoroughly enjoyable experience – but, once in the fantasy world, everything becomes a bit too complicated for its own good and, as a result, it feels less assured. The story galumphs along at full steam expecting us to take a lot in our stride: a tribe of penny-polishing leprechauns with awful accents (no excuses offered this time); a Queen dragon voiced by Jane Fonda; a leprechaun captain (Whoopi Goldberg); and a camp moustachioed unicorn called Geoff (Flula Borg), who is fond of a workout down the gym.

But then it turns out there’s also a Land of Bad Luck and, when Geoff’s complicated machinery (it keeps the two opposing forces balanced) goes a bit haywire, we’re told there’s a danger of all the good luck in the world disappearing, a possibility that unfortunately generates no jeopardy whatsoever.

Not awful then, by any stretch of the imagination, but frankly not in the same league as some of Pixar’s big-hitters – though, truth be told, even they are struggling to reach their former heights. Why would that be I wonder? Bad stories? Bad management decisions ? Or just bad luck?

You decide.

3.4 stars

Philip Caveney