Pleasance Courtyard

The Fetch Wilson

25/08/18

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

This curiously titled monologue, written by Stewart Roche and performed by Edwin Mullane, is a clever and compelling shaggy dog story. We’re told by the makers that it’s inspired by the works of Edgar Allen Poe, but I’d say there’s more than a dash of Fyodor Dostoyevsky in there and I mean that in the nicest possible way.

This is all about Liam Wilson, a young Dubliner addicted to gambling. He’s looking back over his life and the complex series of events that has brought him to his current predicament. It’s also about the ‘other’ Liam Wilson, a boy at his school with the same name, somebody he is initially suspicious of, but whom he is fated to meet up with at various key points during his life. Is the other Liam the friend he appears to be – or something rather more sinister?

Mullane is a charismatic and likeable narrator – and the play’s simple staging, which uses oversized playing cards to represent key characters in the story, is nicely done. If the eventual revelation doesn’t exactly come as the greatest surprise, well, no matter, because there are things in here that I really haven’t anticipated, and it’s fun just watching the expert way in which Mullane reels his audience deeper and deeper into the narrative.

Assuming you’re reading this on the 26th, you have only one more chance to catch this intriguing production , so why not give it a whirl?

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Flies

14/08/18

Pleasance Two, Edinburgh

Flies, by Oliver Lansley, is a story of overpowering obsession. Dennis (George Readshaw) has a phobia of flies, one so all-consuming that he has taken to sealing up the doors and windows of his flat, even putting tape over the plug holes in the bathroom every night. Driven almost to distraction by his fears of the little buzzers, he decides to look for an insect-free environment in which to live. An internet search informs him that his best bet is Antartica, so he promptly sells all his belongings and books a flight. But, on the journey over there, things start to go spectacularly awry.

You see, it’s not easy to get such matters out of your mind when you’re being followed by one fly in particular, a white tuxedoed lounge lizard who looks and talks uncannily like a young Kenneth Branagh, striding about and telling the audience, with great relish, how he’s going to defecate into their food and then vomit it all up again. In the role of the fly (not to mention, Dennis’s psychiatrist, Dr Rickman and occasionally, a polar bear) Piers Hampton has an absolute field day. And then there’s the third member of the cast, Harry Humberstone, a tall, gangly all-rounder, who plays a range of smaller roles, provides various sound effects and bashes out a bit of rock guitar.

Throw in some ramshackle special effects, a programme note that assures us that this is a sustainable show and ‘all cling film is recycled’ and you might begin to get the measure of this spectacularly loopy production. It’s quite clear from the large and enthusiastic crowd at Pleasance Two that what we have here is a palpable Fringe hit and one that fully deserves all the attention it’s getting.

Go and lap this up, but be sure to keep a close eye on the plate of food you eat in the Pleasance Courtyard afterwards. You never know what might be in there…

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Velvet

10/08/18

Pleasance Courtyard (That), Edinburgh

Tom Ratcliffe’s Velvet is a fascinating piece,  an I-can’t-bear-it-but-I-can’t-look-away depiction of a young actor’s downfall, as unscrupulous industry moguls prey on his vulnerability.

He plays Tom (the name is a nod to the fact that the play, which he has written, while not autobiographical, draws on his own experiences), a recent drama school graduate, ambitious and hopeful, determined to realise his dream. He is working, just not as much as he wants, and – like most actors – he has to take on temping jobs so that he can pay his bills. His banker boyfriend, Matthew, doesn’t really understand; he thinks Tom should pursue other career options, find something more stable, but Tom has a vocation and he needs to follow his star. His mum isn’t much better; she’s over-critical and unsupportive. Tom has no one to turn to when things start to unravel.

And unravel they do, pretty much from the start, when a casting director makes a pass and Tom refuses. It’s all terribly polite, but the ramifications are life-changing. The calls dry up. He’s desperate. And, of course, there are always vultures out there, ready to take advantage of despair.

This is a bravura performance, captivating and engrossing; I’m utterly beguiled. There is a disarming authenticity to the piece, which draws us deep into Tom’s world. It’s a clear example, too, of why the #MeToo movement matters: there are people with too much power, abusing their positions to control the powerless. Of course Tom makes foolish decisions; he doesn’t know what else to do. The establishment have closed ranks, barred him; he hasn’t danced to their tune and now he must be punished.

It’s painful to watch, and all too convincing. Ratcliffe performs with real openness, so that Tom’s humiliation makes us hurt with him, and I find myself blinking away tears. The play’s structure is interesting, a non-linear depiction of events, with simple light and sound effects jolting us in and out of key moments. I like the image of the casting couch too, the velvet chaise longue that remains onstage throughout, a permanent reminder of what this is about.

This is a triumph, actually – and deserves a bigger audience than the one we were part of today.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Kwame Asante: Teenage Heartblob

07/08/18

Pleasance Courtyard (Cellar), Edinburgh

Kwame Asante’s latest show, Teenage Heartblob, purports to focus on his experiences as an overweight child and obese teenager, as well as how he now responds to other people’s obesity in his day job as an NHS doctor. And it does, kind of, although not in much detail.

He’s a likeable character; his stage persona is warm and affable, friendly and relatable. He’s impressive too: still only twenty-eight, and already enjoying success in two difficult careers. He clearly has huge affection for his family, and his openness is quite disarming. When he shows a photograph of his mother, for example, there’s an audible ‘aaah…’ from the audience. His charm is indisputable.

The most interesting sections of the show are those relating to his younger days, especially the stories of summers spent visiting Ghana, his frustration at feeling first-generation immigrant guilt, at not quite fitting in, either there or in London.

It’s not ROFL stuff, but it’s not meant to be: there’s a contemplative air to Asante’s set; he’d be a great after-dinner speaker, I think. Sometimes I wish he’d mine his ideas further – there is a tendency to draw back that means we don’t go deep enough; he skims over losing weight, the impact this must have had, how he really feels about obesity as a doctor, etc. This would be a stronger show if he could make that extra push.

Still, there are far worse ways to spend an hour than in the company of this accomplished and entertaining man.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Brexit

06/08/18

Pleasance Beyond, Edinburgh

The Pleasance Beyond is packed: the cast’s pedigree or the subject matter or a combination of the two mean that the three-hundred-plus seats have all been sold. Which is great, obviously, but also… hot. It’s a muggy day, so we thank our lucky stars we remembered to bring bottles of cold water, and hope the play is worth it.

It is. Hurrah! I’m not sure at first: there’s an air conditioning unit running, and it’s swallowing the sound a bit, so I have to strain to hear, and it’s a wordy piece, so it matters; I need to catch the nuances. But I get used to it, and am soon drawn in, enjoying the intrigue and barbed repartee.

We’re in the near future – a year or two hence – and Adam Masters (Timothy Bentinck) has just been elected as our new Prime Minister. He’s inherited the Brexit stalemate, trying to tread a line between opposing factions in his cabinet, his main aim being to do nothing, to ride out the status quo. Adam’s best friend and advisor, Paul Connell (Mike McShane), slyly suggests allocating key roles in the negotiations to arch rivals Simon Cavendish (Hal Cruttenden) and Diana Purdy (Pippa Evans), forcing them to work together, appeasing both the right and left wing commentariat. Chief EU negotiator Helena Brandt (Jo Caulfield) looks on in disbelief as the British government ties itself in knots, kiboshing every idea Adam presents with acerbic ripostes.

Adam’s strategy – using his inaction to force others to act – is bound to end in disaster. And as the inevitable betrayal approaches, he becomes increasingly desperate.

Although Brexit is billed as a comedy – and there are plenty of laughs along the way – it’s actually quite a serious piece. It’s a smart move to cast comedians in the supporting roles – so that Adam is isolated, alone, facing an onslaught of expertly timed quips and snide putdowns. The performances are uniformly strong – Jo Caulfield is a real revelation, and we love her middle-European accent, which is subtle enough to avoid parody.

The staging is simple: a fixed set representing a series of offices, some neat cross-cutting highlighting the cut-throat nature of events. I feel for the actors in their three piece suits and formal dresses (especially Mike McShane, who seems to be wearing clothes he’s borrowed from a much larger man – or perhaps they were his, several sizes ago); luckily, the characters are supposed to be stressed and sweaty, so their shiny faces don’t seem out of place.

Sadly, the story is just too prescient; I can believe every word of it. It’s Shakespearean in its exposure of human frailty and brutality – and sobering in the extreme. Still, it’s definitely one to watch. Et tu, Boris?

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Great British Mysteries: 1599?

06/08/18

Pleasance Courtyard

Great British Mysteries: 1599? is one of those shows that seems tailor-made for the Edinburgh Fringe. It’s deceptively simple but highly effective. Two actors in slightly dodgy Tudor costumes? Check! An absurdly convoluted story about a search for a mysterious witch? Check! And a collection of truly terrible jokes delivered with such verve and aplomb that they somehow transcend their humble origins to become laugh-out-loud funny? Double check! Thanks to the talents of Will Close and Rose Robinson, who (don’t take this the wrong way, you two) have expressive faces that were just made for comedy, this is probably one of the most enjoyable hours you’ll spend on this year’s Fringe.

Thomas Tyrell and Olive Bacon encounter each other on the streets of London in er… well, 1599 (obviously) and, recognising that they have many things in common, decide to embark upon careers as detectives. Thomas is extremely fond of recounting his years as a sailor alongside Sir Walter Raleigh, while Olive is a mistress of disguise, who spends much of her time trying to teach the (decidedly thick) Thomas how to deliver a punchline. There are artfully placed running gags about bear baiting and the six wives of Henry the Eighth, while a large screen behind the duo offers us a succession of amusing images to help propel the story along. Oh yes, there’s also a mysterious priest who delivers his sermons in the form of contemporary song lyrics, a pig who seems to be  permanently fertile, and the added delight of watching Thomas and Olive dance the occasional fleet-footed gavotte. What’s not to like?

Students of history will learn precisely nothing from this production, but those who like to chortle, snigger and even let out the occasional hoot of hilarity will certainly enjoy their visit to the year 1599.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

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

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

Matt Forde: A Show Hastily Rewritten in Light of Recent Events – Again!

09/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

My, but this is a boozy crowd! No judgement intended (I can be a bit of a boozer myself) but it’s noticeable: almost everyone entering the room is holding on to at least one pint; many punters are gamely carrying two. Well, it wouldn’t do to run out, would it? I’ve never been so aware of the drinking at a festival gig. And there are a fair number of actual drunks here too: people who, though friendly and good-humoured, have clearly already reached the stage where they might just derail a show. I’ve also never seen Matt Forde before. I wonder if his audience tells me something about him.

Not really, it turns out. Maybe it’s just coincidence. There’s a kind of blokey jocularity to Forde’s delivery which complements the room’s beeriness, and there are indeed interruptions from a group of older men (one wants to go to the toilet; a second worries that the first’s been gone too long; a third just wants to have a chat) but Forde handles it well: he’s friendly and polite, but doesn’t let things stray too far.

Because he has a lot he wants to say – and we all want to hear it. His schtick is political impressions interspersed with commentary, and it’s really very good indeed. The impersonations are witty and well-judged, and the observations show he’s knowledgeable: interested and interesting, letting no one off the hook. Okay, so the Nicola Sturgeon section falls a bit flat (I don’t think there are actually many Scottish people in tonight, so there maybe isn’t enough shared understanding for this to really fly), but most of what he says hits the mark successfully. It’s not massively challenging, but it is thought-provoking: it’s Rory Bremner territory. His Donald Trump is a definite stand-out: as sharp and satirical and funny as can be.

A fascinating show, this one – quite different from most of what’s on offer at the Fringe. It’s well worth an hour of anybody’s time.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Richard Herring: Oh Frig, I’m 50!

 

08/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

You don’t have to spend long looking through Bouquets & Brickbats reviews to realise that we are Richard Herring fans. We’re delighted that he’s returned to the Fringe this year; we felt his absence in 2015 and 2016. And we’re even more delighted to see the huge queue forming around the Pleasance Courtyard and to hear that his show has sold out tonight: if he does well, surely he’s more likely to come back again next time?

Oh Frig, I’m 50! is a call-back to his 2007 show, Oh Fuck, I’m 40! Unsurprisingly, it focuses on the differences ten years have wrought: the physical ignominy of aging, and the changes to his personal life that have occurred in the last decade. From footloose to family-man, from hot-head to… slightly less hot-head, this is an honest and sometimes brutal account of what it means to grow older.

As always, Herring is at his best when engaged in pedantic deconstruction: here, he homes in on an email and a children’s game, neither of which sound like ripe topics for comedy, but both are mined for maximum laughs, and the audience is clearly appreciative of this obsession with the minutiae. Maybe there isn’t as strong a theme as there was in Christ on a Bike or Hitler Moustache, but it’s a fine show nevertheless, performed with absolute authority by an assured and confident comedian who knows that what he’s got is good.

Definitely, as always, this is worth trying to see. Although I do hope it’s sold out, and that you have to wait for it to go on tour.

4.8 stars

Susan Singfield