Belly Dancer

Goodbye Dandelion

10/08/26

Underbelly Cowgate (Belly Dancer), Edinburgh

It turns out assisted dying is a hot topic at this year’s Fringe. A mere five days in and, not only is this the second show we’ve seen about it, but there’s someone waiting outside with flyers for another one “dealing with the same issues”. Euthanasia, it seems, is in.

But if the theme is redolent of the Traverse production we saw yesterday, the form could hardly be more different. While After Party is a raucous two-act play, Goodbye Dandelion is an altogether gentler affair – a whimsical hour of musical storytelling, charting Maddie Rice’s friendship with the titular Dandelion, aka octogenarian Darcy O’Shea.

Thirty-something Maddie is feeling a bit lost. There’s nothing wrong exactly: she has a steady job, a caring boyfriend, an agreeable flatmate. It’s just… shouldn’t there be something more? When she sees an advert for Run-Relate, she thinks it might be the spur she needs. Simultaneously improving her fitness and helping a lonely pensioner; surely that’ll make her feel fulfilled?

But things don’t go as Maddie expects. For one thing, it turns out she hates running. And for another, Darcy doesn’t want her help. Still, as their spiky, unlikely friendship develops, it’s clear the benefits are mutual. Until, that is, Darcy tells Maddie her deepest, darkest wish…

Maddie narrates her tale with an engaging openness, the language simple but compelling. Her brother, Marcus, provides musical accompaniment and wry asides, knowing exactly when to undercut the more sentimental moments with a witty song or some salient statistics. Everybody Dies is easily my favourite number; who knew a song about death’s inevitability could make an entire audience laugh out loud?

Although it’s about dying, this charming, clever show is ultimately life-affirming. There’s no bold ‘seize the day’ message, no cloying, fridge-magnet platitude. Instead, there’s a clear-eyed, honest appraisal of what it means to live.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

AJ Holmes: Yeah, but Not Right Now

05/08/19

Underbelly Cowgate (Belly Dancer), Edinburgh

There’s something charmingly anachronistic about AJ Holmes. Those lovely melodic flourishes on the keyboard are decidely old-school and the voice, as you might expect from the former star of The Book of Mormon, is a constant delight, soft and plaintive in the lower ranges and suprisingly powerful when he hits the high notes.

But the choice of subject matter is more unusual than you might expect. I mean, who else do I know, who’s happy to belt out a tender melody about the trials and tribulations of having a poo? Moreover, one who can effortlessly coax a roomful of people into singing the chorus along with him, resulting in me leaving the venue with the weirdest earworm EVER.

Holmes also displays an easy rapport with his audience, addressing a soulful ballad to a (clearly delighted) woman in the front row and kindling plenty of laughter with his observations about his mother and the overpowering loneliness of touring in a major production. He also experiments with a recording machine, overlaying riffs on various instruments and then multi-tracking his voice to create an angelic-sonding chorus. (Don’t worry, this is far more engaging than it sounds!)

The end result is thoroughly entertaining, and a rewarding way to spend an hour. Catch him down at the Underbelly before he packs up his keyboard and heads back to the USA.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney