Edinburgh 2017

Over the Garden Fence

14/08/17

Greensides, Infirmary Street, Edinburgh

Over the Garden Fence is a tender two-hander charting the life-story of ‘Dolly,’ her tragic descent into dementia and the impact on her family. It’s charmingly told – if a little earnest – and it’s clear to see how it meets Haylo Theatre’s aim of using theatre to “highlight key issues within the areas of health, social care and the elderly.”

Louise Evans handles the role of Dolly with grace and generosity: this is an affectionate portrayal of a well-realised character. Hayley Riley takes on the less showy role of Annabelle, Dolly’s granddaughter, who is upset (and sometimes irritated) by the old woman’s behaviour, frustrated that her Gran keeps making odd mistakes. Both actors also play a host of other parts: the neighbours, the husband, the best friend, etc.

They make the most of the black-box space, with a few carefully-chosen props and some interesting techniques. A standout is the slo-mo ‘happy birthday’ sequence, with the happy recollection of a turning nine years-old juxtaposed beautifully with awful memories from later on in life.

It’s not all misery: there is humour here, and moments of happiness. Indeed, the ending is so bittersweet it makes me dewy-eyed.

Okay, so there a few minor quibbles – how many working-class northerners were eating salsa in the 1950s, for example? – but, overall, this is a decent, thought-provoking little play that well deserves an audience.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

John Robins: The Darkness of Robins

john robins

13/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

John Robins’ opinion of ‘small weird websites’ reviewing comedy is well-documented, but here at Bouquets & Brickbats we don’t take such things personally. We were most impressed with his Live from the BBC gig, and, as loyal retro-one-er PCDs, we’re more than keen to see his Edinburgh show. It doesn’t disappoint.

It’s not an easy hour. The Darkness of Robins is a raw and painful piece, detailing the fallout from the recent break-up of his relationship with fellow comic, Sara Pascoe. It’s heart-rending. To his credit, Robins never comes across as bitter; this is clearly not about revenge. Instead, it’s a searingly honest account of loneliness and desperation, a howl into the void. And yet, somehow, it’s funny too.

Robins has real presence and charisma; he owns the room. Even as he tells us that he doesn’t like people (doesn’t like crowds, doesn’t want more friends), he’s making us warm to him, drawing us in. And the subject matter is one we can all relate to (or most of us, at any rate): heartbreak is a familiar theme. But it’s rare to hear anyone articulate with such naked precision just how fucking awful and debilitating it can be.

I love this show. It makes me sad, but I love it anyway.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Maddy Anholt: Herselves

13/08/17

Underbelly Med Quad, Edinburgh

Amidst the plethora of standups at the Fringe, character comedy is rather thinner on the ground, but it’s there if you take the trouble to look for it. Maddy Anholt can be found every afternoon at the Underbelly Med Quad, flying the flag for her preferred area of comedy and doing a great job of it. She bounds confidently onto the stage in character as Shazza, a reality TV wannabe, who is totally convinced of her own innate qualities of super-stardom. She presses fan photographs (which she’s had laminated to make them easier to wipe-off!) into the hands of people in the front row and tells us all about her quest to be famous. Shazza is, of course, only the first in a succession of oddball characters Anholt has created for this show; wisely, she doesn’t spend too long in each role, but skips merrily along to the next and the next and the next – with barely a pause for breath.

She’s very good at working the audience. At one point I find myself called up (maybe ordered up, would be more accurate) to perform the role of her husband; I’m made to brush her hair and, let’s face it, that’s not something I get to say in many reviews! Anholt is good at snapping in and out of the various roles she takes on. The standouts are the weirdly aggressive monobrowed zoo keeper, who ends up performing the mating dance of a peacock, and the weird moment when another character channels her ‘inner child,’ morphing into a pouting, giggling little girl – this performance is eerily convincing.

It’s endearingly silly stuff, frivolous and nonsensical, a delightful way to spend an hour at the Fringe.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Wil Greenway: These Trees the Autumn Leaves Alone

13/08/17

Underbelly Med Quad, Edinburgh

What is is about Australians and the art of storytelling?

Wil Greenway was one of our best discoveries at last year’s Fringe. This red-headed, bearded, vaguely hippie-ish guy presented a show called The Way the City Ate the Stars and we thought it was one of the most magical acts we’d ever seen. So of course we want to see him again! But the main question at the back of my mind is this: can he do it a second time? Can he honestly hope to reproduce the same levels of delight that he gave us last year? The answer to that, as it turns out, is a resounding yes. TTALA is every bit as good – maybe even better.

This year’s story is all about Ernie, a lonely guy in Melbourne, struggling with his weight, struggling with his loneliness, struggling to find a job. It’s about his lucky shirt, and a girl he met at a party years ago. It’s about a hungry cat and it’s about rain. Apparently, when it rains in Melbourne, it really rains…

If this doesn’t sound enticing, well, don’t be misled. The way Greenway tells a story is right up there with his compatriot, Sarah Kendall. He manages to weave this wonderful spell as he talks, aided and abetted by the marvellous vocals and guitar of his cohorts Kathryn Langshaw and Will Galloway, so that the most mundane things are made to sound quite beautiful (hell, in this show, Greenway describes a character throwing up and somehow manages to turn it into one of the most elegant pieces of prose I’ve ever heard).

This is wonderful stuff, powerful enough to transport you into the world of Greenway’s imagination, which let me assure, is a splendid place to pass an hour. If you see only one act by a red-headed, bearded, vaguely hippie-ish guy at this year’s Fringe, then this should be it.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

The Last Queen of Scotland

12/08/17

Underbelly Cowgate, Edinburgh

This powerful production by Stellar Quines Theatre Company, commissioned and supported by the National Theatre of Scotland and Dundee Rep, is written by Jaimini Jethwa, and based on her personal experience. It tells the story of the Ugandan Asians, expelled by Idi Amin in 1972. With just ninety days’ notice, they were robbed of everything they owned and despatched to whoever would give them a home. Jethwa’s family ended up in Dundee. Her story is told by an unnamed young woman (Rehanna MacDonald), a character who has grown up in Scotland but who is still slowly coming to terms with what happened to her family when she was a baby.

MacDonald delivers an incendiary performance, pacing restlessly back and forth across the stage as she recalls her childhood memories, her teenage years running wild on the streets of Dundee and her recent trip back to Uganda to revisit the family home. She’s ably supported by Patricia Panther, who adds some resonant songs to the mix, providing a constant onstage presence, mostly watching in silence as the events unfold. (In truth, I would have liked to have heard a little more from her, but I guess you can’t have everything.)

This is a fascinating slice of history, brilliantly recounted and economically directed by Jemima Levick. Lovers of good theatre shouldn’t miss this one.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Blank Tiles

11/08/17

Assembly George Square, Edinburgh

Some shows grab hold of you instantly – others take a little time to establish themselves. Blank Tiles is definitely a slow burn affair. At first I find myself thinking, ‘Who is this guy? Why is he so repetitive? And why does he keep recording every little utterance he makes?’ And then it begins to dawn on me just where writer/performer Dylan Cole is going with this… and the story becomes more affecting, more tragic, and ultimately heartbreaking.

Austin Michaels is a World Scrabble champion, a man who has memorised over 200,000 words in order to win his world title. As he recounts his story, he constantly refers to a large scrabble board on an easel beside him, using various combinations of the same letters to spell out key points in his life story. But Austin is gradually falling prey to a terrible condition, one that will ultimately rob him of the most important thing in his life – his ability to remember.

This is a powerful monologue, nicely performed by Cole (who, it turns out, is Australian, though you’d never guess it from his Northern Brit accent) and it holds the audience enraptured until its tragic conclusion. Amidst a whole plethora of one-person shows at this year’s Fringe, it’s definitely one you shouldn’t miss. And don’t worry, you don’t have to be a Scrabble aficionado to appreciate this compelling story.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Andrew Doyle: Thought Crimes

11/08/17

The Stand, Edinburgh

Andrew Doyle, co-writer of the wonderfully acerbic Jonathan Pie, promises to be controversial. His opinions are, he says, unpopular. He is, in his own words, ‘political and a massive gay.’ But honestly, tonight, it all feels a bit tame.

There’s a lot of audience work at the top of the show, which he handles nicely – he has a clear command of the room. It’s filler though; I want to get down to some substance. The stuff about being gay is not very challenging – a few easy gags about how he’s against gay marriage because, y’know, marriage is a trap. He’s better when he gets to the politics, especially Brexit. I don’t agree with him, but he’s informed and articulate and makes his case well. And he’s absolutely right that there needs to be space for debate; no one wins when we shut each other down.

A shame then that he seeks to shut others down, with a straw man argument against identity politics, citing ‘Otherkins’ as an example of their absurdity. But it’s his argument that’s absurd: no one in this clearly politically-engaged room knows what an Otherkin is; he has to tell us (someone who doesn’t identify as human, apparently), so they’re hardly mainstream; it’s kind of cheap to use them as a means of discrediting other identities in the LGBTQ+ ‘community’, especially at a time when transgender people in particular are facing so much prejudice.

He’s drinking wine on-stage – about two thirds of a bottle of red during the hour – and things do get more interesting as he gets looser. It makes him seem vulnerable; by the end, when he’s talking about losing friends because of what he thinks, he appears to be really hurt. Or maybe that’s all part of the schtick.

Doyle is a fascinating person, and I’ll definitely watch out for him and see what else he does. He’s clever and engaging, and has the crowd laughing throughout. This show could do with a bit more focus though – and less reliance on the easy stuff.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Power Behind the Crone

11/07/17

Assembly George Square, Edinburgh

The Power Behind the Crone is a wonderful piece of theatre, an exemplar of a Fringe show: perfectly suited to its space and time-slot, beautifully scripted, and acted with precision and panache. In case I haven’t made myself clear: I liked it. A lot.

Alison Skilbeck plays Professor Artemis Turret, a Shakespearean scholar, delivering a lecture to a group of mature students (that’s us). The topic is a refutation of the dictum,’There are no good parts in Shakespeare for older women’ and the big draw is Artemis’s old friend, Dame Bunti Smart, an internationally acclaimed actress, who is supposed to be performing the illustrative speeches. But, not for the first time it seems, Bunti lets Artemis down, and the Professor is forced to play the parts herself. Reluctant at first, she throws herself into the performances, unearthing her own talent in the process.

Skilbeck’s delivery is flawless. From the Grenfell-like humour of the Professor to the pride of Paulina, from the bitterness of Queen Margaret to the bawdiness of Mistress Quickly, Skilbeck has absolute control of the material and creates distinct, believable characters. It’s fascinating: the fictional lecture serves the same function as an actual lecture, albeit the most engaging one I’ve ever sat through. I’m learning as I watch; plays I know well are re-positioned, the older women highlighted.

It’s genuinely illuminating.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Stuart Goldsmith: Like I Mean It

10/08/17

Liquid Rooms, Edinburgh

The poet Cyril Connolly once famously wrote, ‘There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.’ But for some artists – especially comedians – it turns out that pram (or rather its occupant) can be the central premise of a very amusing routine. Take Stuart Goldsmith, for instance. The standup comic and host of the popular podcast, The Comedian’s Comedian, has fairly recently become a father and his baby (and some of the mysterious ailments suffered by her mother) provide Goldsmith with a whole raft of quips and observations.

He’s on good form at the Liquid Rooms (one of the Free Fringe venues), but you’ll need to get there early if you want a seat, because he’s popular and the place gets rammed. Also, don’t forget to take some cash along with you, because it’s considered very bad form indeed to attend without throwing some cash (preferably of the paper variety) into the bucket as you leave. Comedians need to eat – and feed their families – you know.

Goldsmith does a great line in self deprecation and this year, as he’s decided to record his routine at each session, he milks a lot of extra laughs from his wry asides to the recording device, commenting on which jokes went well and which ones clearly sailed over the heads of the audience.

Goldsmith has a very likable persona and a relaxed way with an audience that always makes his sets enjoyable. He was very good last year – and this show is even better.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Phil Wang: Kinabalu

09/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

I’ve previously only been aware of Phil Wang from his (perfectly pleasant) appearances on TV panel shows. Seeing him do standup has made me completely reassess him. From the moment this young comedian walks onto the stage of the Pleasance Beneath and launches into a convoluted introduction, he has me laughing. By the time we’re halfway through the set this has developed into something approaching hysteria, until there are actual tears streaming down my face. It’s something to do with his doomed attempts to ‘be cool,’ the occasional owlish glances over the top of his spectacles, his clever wordplay and playful invention. All these elements combine to create comedy gold. The section where he describes going to the supermarket to buy ‘lube’ is so funny I actually have difficulty breathing.

Mind you, it’s not all mindless laughter. Wang, the son of a Malaysian father and an English mother, has some interesting observations to make on the nature of nationality and about being a true ‘son of the Empire.’ As somebody who spent much of his childhood in Malaya (as it was then known), I found this aspect of his show particularly interesting, but Wang has the good sense to disguise his message as more humour. Laugh and learn, baby, laugh and learn.

Every year at the Fringe I make some personal discoveries. This year, the first of them is that Phil Wang is one of the funniest comics I’ve seen. Either that, or I’ve gone down with some kind of weird hyena virus.

5 stars

Philip Caveney