So long, farewell, aufwiedersehen, good … I didn’t actually
see that show, or the comedy take-off of it which was up at the Fringe, but
after four and a bit days ensconced in that festival, you tend to become a bit …
musical … in your farewells. In fact, the shows force a hitherto unknown second
musical personality out of you, and you end up prancing down the streets all
thespy-schizoid and with jazz hands and adult humour songs buzzing on your lips
(I’m blaming you, The Ruby Darlings).
Awkwardness of course ensues when you bump into non-Fringe
tourists. Perplexed, scared, and frantically grasping for support/a phone to
dial 999, they back off (‘don’t encourage
it, Gladys, turn around, girl, hands in your pockets and gaze fixed forward and
KEEP WALKING, love!!’). Oddly enough, a huge quantity of these tourists
were swarming, be-raincoated and be-thermosed, up and down the Royal Mile,
terrified and skittish at the sight of flyerers. How is it possible that they
booked a holiday in Edinburgh in August and failed to notice that Europe’s
biggest arts festival was happening there? A question for the ages.
But the Fringe is over for another year. Coming back to
London (frigid air, torrential rain – who said the weather up north was worse
than the south? At least rolling mists have the advantage of being dramatic) I
feel a sense of sorrow – not lying, I really do. For a few days you live so
large and loud and colourfully, and then you remember your end destination: the
office. So, as one last hurrah for the bright lights and the sheer enthusiasm of Edinburgh, here are
some final reviews:
The Bunker
Trilogy: Agamemnon: Brought to you by former members of that Fringe
staple Belt Up Productions, this is a
claustrophobic and immensely impressive of theatre. Sat tightly packed and
practically on top of your fellow audience members, you find yourself encased
in a bunker, assailed as much by the action and emotion as the characters are
by memories and mortar. The protagonist is dying in the trenches and in a
series of memories and hallucinations he shows his belief that his wife back
home – and his cousin, who has fallen in love with her – are conspiring to kill
him. The only issue with this production is that it doesn’t need to reference
Agamemnon, as within this context it doesn’t truly succeed as an invocation of
the story – there is no Iphigenia to plant the seed of hatred in Clytemnestra,
no children, no kingdom, no names, even. Taken out of the constraints of Greek
fable, however, it is an astonishingly good piece of work – impeccable acting
and an immersive setting collide to give a sense of watching a true drama
unfold before you, as if it were on screen. ****1/2
Shakespeare for
Breakfast: Another staple of the Fringe, Shakespeare for Breakfast has
been delighting audiences for years. Furnished with a cup of coffee and a
croissant, they settle down to see modernised, immensely funny takes on
Shakespeare’s classics. Offered up to us this year was The Taming of the Shrew,
couched in the context of the Royal Wedding and Birth. Prince Harry’s attempts
to woo Pippa-Bianca remain one of the highlights of the show. With less
audience participation than previous shows of theirs and slightly less engaging
turns from a couple of cast members, it doesn’t quite reach the dizzyingly
fantastic heights of last year’s Romeo and Juliet, but these are minor
quibbles; Shakespeare for Breakfast remains a Fringe must-see. ****
Howie The Rookie:
Unequivocally the best one-man show I have ever had the privilege to see. Tom
Vaughan-Lawlor takes up a ferocious Atlas-like task, performing the monologues
of two characters, who in other incarnations would be played by two actors.
Fast-paced, relentless, careening as if written on a high through cussing and
intoxicated lyricism, the script never gives you a break but for the two
devastating moments of horrific pathos and tragedy which demarcate the end of
each character’s monologues. Howie Lee and Rookie Lee are Dublin hoodlums,
violent and seedy, but the honour and a bridge for sympathy is found in both.
Vaughan-Lawlor gives a powerhouse performance – full-throttle, never resting,
and with astonishing physical control and stamina – over the course of 80
minutes which could only end in a justly deserved standing ovation. *****
The Only Way is
Downton: Have you ever seen a young man do an impression of Maggie
Smith as the Dowager in Dowton Abbey? Well, have you ever seen him do that in
the same breath in which he impersonates Tom Daley as her unlikely bridegroom
and Alan Carr as the possibly even more unlikely reverend marrying them? The
Only Way is Downton is a brilliant one-man skit which brings together Downton
Abbey and modern reality shows (The X Factor, The Great British Bake-Off) for
an explosively funny culture clash – a clash unobserved by the characters
themselves. The impressions are uncanny, and the ability to switch lightning
fast between them all is impressive. ****
The Ruby Darlings:
Ruby and Darling are to blame: I’m perpetually humming smutty lyrics now as I
wander around and am scaring the neighbours as a result. Ruby and Darling are
two girls reclaiming the female prerogative to have a good time on equal
footing with men, with filthy lyrics and beltingly good singing voices. If they
can tighten the comedy and the song introductions, they’ll have a damn fine
show. ***1/2
Free Tea &
Biscuits Comedy: The Brits like tea and they like biscuits with their
tea; as a marketing ploy, this is a sure win. The atmosphere was very informal
and comfortable – a surprisingly leisurely approach to performance – as was the
comedy. Entertaining, with engaging compering, it was witty, understated, and
full of laughs, albeit not hugely memorable. It was that jumper which always makes an appearance when you’re not going
out – it fits, it’s comfortable, it makes you think of good times. ***
Chaucer All Strung
Up: The Franklin’s Tale: Chaucer All Strung Up promised much –
storytelling, acrobatics, puppetry, and more – but sadly delivered little.
Despite the best efforts of the cast to engage the audience, chatting with them
in character even as they were filing in and engaging them interactively
throughout, they couldn’t overcome the fact that the production itself just
didn’t have the energy or the focus to sustain interest. It seemed to be pitched
initially at a younger audience than was there, with childish voices, and
childish puppetry, which wrongfooted the audience from the start. It then lost
its story and all of Chaucer’s charm in its conceit, namely to put the story
mise-en-scene within the context of a girl (who tells everyone else the story)
reliving it herself when she joins a circus and falls in love with the lead
acrobat. The concept is laudable, but not its execution.**
