Edfringe 2022

Lucy Porter: Wake-Up Call

12/08/22

Pleasance Courtyard (Forth), Edinburgh

Lucy Porter is as vivacious and likeable as ever – her bright-eyed enthusiasm is hard to resist. Perhaps she relies on this a little bit too much in this loosely-structured show, however, which seems to skirt around a point it never quite makes. 

The premise is ostensibly about a mid-life ‘crisis’, resolved by the wake-up call of the title. It’s relatable (most of the audience – including me – are in the same age bracket as Porter) but there isn’t really anything calamitous or, well, crisis-like here, just a vague sense of anxiety about getting old.

There are lots of laughs though. It’s a pleasant, meandering monologue, and Porter’s warmth and charm shine through. But I’m left wanting something more. That bed, for instance. It’s an enormous prop. It must be a pain in the arse to store and set up. But it’s a perfect example of Chekhov’s gun principle – if it’s not going to be used, what’s it doing there? (Okay, so it is used, in fact, but only for a nano-second, and not to any great effect.) 

An agreeable way to spend an hour, this one’s probably the perfect tonic if you’re in the mood for an undemanding treat. 

3 stars 

Susan Singfield 

Ellie MacPherson: Happy Birthday, Mr. President!

11/08/22

Underbelly Cowgate (Big Belly), Edinburgh

Ellie MacPherson is a new name to me but, from the moment she saunters onto the stage, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, to deliver the titular song, I’m sold. She has a cheery personality and and a grin radiant enough to light up even the dingy, malodorous setting of Big Belly – one of the Fringe’s less inviting venues. She’s accompanied by a three-piece band, all dressed like CIA goons, complete with dark glasses – a nice touch.

Happy Birthday, Mr President! is a mash up: part history lesson, part stand-up, part cabaret set – and the fact that all the pieces fit so perfectly together, is testament to MacPherson’s evident skills. In one hour, she skips merrily through the forty-five American presidents (thus far), lingering here and there on more interesting aspects of their personalities.

I’m surprised (and slightly embarrassed) to learn how many of them I’ve never even heard of and I’m amazed to learn that so many of them had… issues. A president who couldn’t read or write? How does that work? One who liked to swim naked every day. Erm, sure, why not? And one who took a little girl as his ward and married her just as soon as she was old enough? Ewww. The song McPherson chooses to illustrate this story has never sounded quite so disturbing.

It helps that MacPherson has a terrific voice and a genuinely thrilling vocal range. My initial doubts that she can comfortably cram all those disparate characters into one hour are quickly dispelled. This is a terrific show: absorbing, informative and often laugh-out-loud funny.

Catch it if you can.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Actress

11/08/22

Underbelly Bristo Square (Dairy), Edinburgh

It’s 1660, Charles II has claimed the throne and, after eighteen long years of bans and closures, the theatres of London are finally open again – but something is different. This time, women are allowed on stage. Written and directed by Andrew Pearson-Wright, Long Lane Theatre Company’s The Actress focuses on the first of these new performers, highlighting the issues they faced and their determination to succeed.

Theatre was still tightly governed, and only two royal patents were issued: one to Sir Thomas Killigrew (Andrew Loudon), the other to his competitor, Sir William Davenant. This story, however, focuses on two women who present themselves to Killigrew, Anne Marshall (Charlotte Price) and Margaret Hughes (Eva Pearson-Wright), both vying for the accolade of being the first woman on the English stage.

They couldn’t be more different. While Anne is only eighteen years old, an intellectual, bookish kind of girl, Margaret is thirty and a woman of the world, a courtesan, who has travelled to Paris and Amsterdam, and is mistress to a prince. Pearson-Wright’s well-crafted script presents a complex, nuanced relationship: the two are competitors but also reluctant allies, aware that their gender both separates and binds them. Anne helps Margaret towards a deeper understanding of Shakespeare, while Margaret pushes Anne to be more assertive. They’re both fighting a losing battle to be taken seriously – “Men have to want to fuck her!” says the wonderfully boorish theatre patron, Charles Sedley (Matthew Hebden) – but at least they’re not being ignored, unlike Anne’s illiterate friend (Hattie Chapman), who’s working backstage all hours, waiting in the wings…

There’s a lot to admire here. The writing is strong: the play is pacy and the storyline is clear and engaging. The characterisation is also assured, and Price in particular stands out, imbuing Marshall with a disquieting intensity. The small stage is well-utilised and never feels cluttered, even when there are five actors almost filling it; the movement is dynamic and everything flows well.

I’m a little uncomfortable with the dressing room scenes, however. It’s a fascinating (and disturbing) period detail: apparently, men could pay to sit backstage and watch the actresses undress. These are important moments, and certainly need to be included in the play, but I don’t know why the women need to actually be topless; it feels as exploitative as the sleaze it’s supposed to be skewering. This level of realism doesn’t sit well in a production where moustaches on hand-held sticks are employed to differentiate between male roles.

That aside, The Actress is an interesting and compelling play, shedding light on an important piece of theatre history.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Jo Caulfield: Here Comes Trouble

10/08/22

The Stand Comedy Club (Stand 1), Edinburgh

With over 3000 shows to choose from at the Fringe, we usually try to avoid seeing the same performers every year, but there are a few exceptions. Like moths to bright flames, we keep coming back to see the latest offerings from Richard Herring, Paines Plough, Flabbergast, Chris Dugdale – and, of course, Jo Caulfield.

Comedy is a broad church, and we have catholic tastes. For us, Caulfield falls into the ‘Mary’s Milk Bar ice cream’ category, i.e. an Edinburgh classic promising pure enjoyment. You know what you’re getting and it never disappoints.

She takes a few moments to check out her audience (who’s seen her before, where people have come from) and then cautions us at the top: “What I do is, I talk about myself and about who’s annoyed me since last year. That’s what this is. You won’t learn anything”. Well, good. I like life-lesson comedy, but I don’t want it all the time. Caulfield is an entertainer, and I’m ready to be entertained.

And we’re off. The laughs keep coming, thick and fast. She’s an expert; she knows exactly how to make her material fly: when to push the boundaries and when to rein things in. The topics are wide-ranging – from her mum’s favourite TV programmes to nationalising the railways; from irksome neighbours to European mini-breaks – and all skewered with her trademark caustic wit. Her onstage persona is blisteringly impatient. “Fuck off!” she roars on more than one occasion, irritated by the idiocy – and sometimes mere existence – of other people (and crafters in particular). But there’s always that twinkle, that sly charm, that means she gets away with it.

We were tired when we arrived. Now we’re energised. We leave smiling, and head off to the pub.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Emily Wilson: Fixed

09/08/22

Pleasance Courtyard (Beneath), Edinburgh

Emily Wilson’s Fixed is part musical, part stand-up and part catharsis. Clearly a born performer, Wilson takes us on a tour of her youth, from beaming toddler to broken teen. It’s all been chronicled, of course: she’s 26 years old, a whole lifetime of phone recordings and insta-chats and YouTube videos. Oh, and primetime national TV too.

That’s the crux of the story: Wilson appeared on The X Factor USA in 2011, as one half of the earnestly named duo, Ausem. “Because my best friend’s called Austin, and my name’s Emily, so together we’re Ausem!” She thought her dreams had come true: she was 15 and destined to become a star. But then they hit a snag. The judges decided they liked Austin, but not Emily…

Wilson’s tale, co-written and directed by Sam Blumenfeld, is compelling. She’s a vivacious, funny, talented woman – and, while she’s disarmingly self-deprecating, she’s justifiably pissed off. The X Factor nearly destroyed her. How is a child supposed to process such public humiliation? How do the powerful adults in charge legitimise hurting her for viewing figures, for more dollars in their bulging bank accounts? Do the haters on social media sleep well at night, knowing they’ve made a young girl cry?

The past is detailed via a series of video clips and diary entries, interspersed with stand-up and original songs revealing Wilson’s current perspective. What emerges is a thoughtful commentary on fame, ambition and exploitation, and it’s riveting.

Oh, and she really can sing. Whatever Nicole Sherzinger says.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Jake Cornell and Marcia Belsky: Man and Woman

06/08/22

Assembly George Square Studios (Studio 4), Edinburgh

Jake Cornell and Marcia Belsky play “Jake” and “Marcia”, two narcissistic actors determined to change the world. Jake’s certain he’s written a masterpiece, finally giving women the voice they’ve been denied for so long, and Marcia is thrilled she’s got the chance to showcase her skills. In an introductory speech, Jake mansplains what women need, while Marcia gamely smiles and tries to elbow her way in to the conversation. It’s very funny.

And then we get to the show-within-a-show, a histrionic tale of doomed love and misery – with lots of blood and shouting. The characters are called Man and Woman because, you know, they represent the whole of humanity. The hubris is delightfully drawn, and Jake in particular is a wonderful creation: we all know a Jake (although, thankfully, we don’t all have to work with him).

Cornell and Belsky are both effortlessly droll, and I find myself laughing a lot at the silliness and audacity of Jake’s ambition, and the way it’s always undermined by his lack of profundity. Marcia’s no feminist saviour either: she’s just paying lip-service to Jake’s professed ideals because she wants to be a star, and doesn’t realise until it’s too late just how doomed the project is.

For me, this piece works best when we’re with “Jake” and “Marcia”, so I’d like to see more of this and less of Jake’s creation, entertaining though it is.

This is an engaging and likeable show, poking fun at wannabe radicals as well as worn theatrical tropes.

3.8 stars

Susan SIngfield

The Ultimate Pickle

06/08/22

Roundabout at Summerhall, Edinburgh

The Ultimate Pickle is our first show of Fringe ’22 (previews and showcases aside), and it’s a corker, albeit intended for an audience many decades our junior. Touring theatre company Paines Plough is dedicated to new writing and, as we’ve come to expect, this latest offering is a lively, imaginative and thought-provoking piece, played deftly and with precision.

This play, by Laura Lindow, is ostensibly for children, but there’s plenty here to keep us entertained. Princess Khumalo plays Dill Pickleton, an almost-eleven-year-old whose life is turned upside down when her granddad – or Gran-Ted – dies. Her mum (Sara Hazemi) goes to pieces and, before long, the duo are facing a financial crisis, necessitating a move from Gran-Ted’s beloved ‘lighthouse’ by the sea. For Dill, this also means a new school, and she struggles to keep a lid on her feelings. And then the wolf (Samuel Tracy) emerges from her story book, and Dill’s adventures really begin…

It’s a simple tale, and the metaphor isn’t exactly subtle, but that doesn’t matter because it’s beautifully told. Paines Plough’s “pop-up, plug-and-play” theatre, Roundabout, is well-equipped with state of the art LED lighting (Rory Beaton) and surround sound (Roly Batha), and so the tech does a lot of the heavy lifting: there’s no set and very few props, but we always know exactly where we are, and the atmosphere is vibrant.

The three actors play the parts with sincerity and commitment: these are endearing performances that don’t trivialise Dill’s feelings. It’s too easy for children’s shows to talk down to their audiences; this one, directed by Eva Sampson, respects them, and I think any similarly-troubled young person watching it would feel understood rather than patronised.

The Ultimate Pickle is funny and moving – and perfectly-pitched for the whole family to enjoy. This trio of actors are also performing in two other (not-for-children) plays, and I’m looking forward to seeing more of their work.

A lovely reminder of the joy of Fringe, and of how much we’ve missed it for the past few years. What a way to herald a new beginning! Bravo.

4.5 stars

Susan Singfield