‘Hold On To Your Butts’ (Pleasance Courtyard, until AUG 25 – not AUG 7 or 18)

“Theatrical spoofs of movie classics are all the rage these days and the New York-based theatre company Recent Cutbacks has a gem running at the Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) this summer. “

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Theatrical spoofs of movie classics are all the rage these days and the New York-based theatre company Recent Cutbacks has a gem running at the Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) this summer. The company specialises in fast-paced “lo-fi” shot-for-shot parodies of classic movies. These are performed by a very small troupe of actors making frantic use of props, back projection, mime, and knockabout physical theatre to create a hilarious take on some of cinema’s greatest blockbusters of recent decades. The comic mayhem is enhanced by an on-stage Foley Artist (that’s a Hollywood term for a sound-effects specialist) who sits at a desk with a laptop, a microphone, and a huge selection of musical instruments, sandboxes, crinkly paper, a cutlery drawer, and other noise-making thingumajigs to titillate your ears.

Hold On To Your Butts (Forth @ Pleasance Courtyard) is a spoof of the first Jurassic Park movie of 1993. The action-packed tale of a dinosaur safari park visit that goes horrifically wrong is staged at velociraptor speed, with the gory bits delivered in such a slapstick style as to have the audience laughing in recognition. This is very much a show for kids (Over 8s) as well as adults, as the children in the audience enjoy the pantomimic quality of the show without needing to have seen the film.

The stars of the movie – the dinosaurs – are portrayed in a laugh-out-loud style, making much ironically improvised use of physical posturing, madly inappropriate props, and bizarre costumery. Other standout moments include the hilarious impressions of the languid drawl of Jeff Goldblum’s quizzical chaos theorist and the gruff cynicism of Sam Neill’s gung-ho palaeontologist. Movie nerds will also love the low-fi recreation of iconic close-up shots from the film using hand-held picture frames and flashlights, several of which drew appreciative rounds of applause.

All of the most memorable key scenes from the movie are mercilessly parodied. One stand-out is the famous episode of the T. Rex attacking the lawyer as he sits in a toilet cubicle having abandoned the kids. I’m sure the cheers for that scene had as much to do with seeing a lawyer get his come-uppance as well as for the artistic creativity.

This show – along with Fly, You Fools! (a similar treatment of the Lord of the Rings movies by Recent Cutbacks) later in the afternoon in Beyond @ Pleasance Courtyard – runs at the Pleasance Courtyard until 25th August (not 7th or 18th), so book early as I suspect these will be two of the hottest tickets in town.

 


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‘Smile: The Story of Charlie Chaplin’ (Pleasance Below, until AUG 25 – not AUG 13)

“Cole’s performance wrings every ounce of humour and pathos from the story.”

Editorial Rating:  4  Stars (Nae Bad)

As a massive Chaplin fan, this one-man tribute to one of the world’s greatest entertainers leapt out at me from the poster. I’m pleased to say it didn’t disappoint.

Marcel Cole is a talented actor, dancer, and mime artist who puts all of his physical skills to work in this highly visual and engaging show. Tracking Chaplin’s career from birth in the slums of Victorian London to international superstardom via Hollywood, Cole’s performance wrings every ounce of humour and pathos from the story. Bearing much more than a passing resemblance to his subject – especially in his familiar guise as “the tramp” – Cole is much more than a mere impersonator. Every movement and mannerism evokes the presence of the master comedian.

The early part of the show, which establishes Chaplin’s formative years in the silent movie era, necessarily depends strongly on creative and entertaining use of mime. Cole’s elastic face and expressive gestures quickly connect with the audience. Then, with the arrival of the talkies, both Chaplin and Cole find their voice, adding verbal humour to the visual. One way in which Cole is even able to improve upon his subject’s act is by getting some members of his audience to participate. Chaplin famously broke “the fourth wall” in his films by looking directly at the camera; Cole goes a stage further by inviting volunteers on stage (and not just from the front row!) to help him enact short scenes from his life and works. Under Cole’s politely subtle direction, a lady and three gentlemen took turns to re-enact scenes from Chaplin’s biography and works such as ‘The Gold Rush’ and ‘The Great Dictator’, even involving a chase around the auditorium at one stage.

One criticism often levelled at Chaplin’s work was his tendency to include too much tragedy as a counterpoint to the slapstick. Cole wisely avoids this, steering clear of overdoing the pathos: it’s there, but a smile is rarely too far away. Nor does the show shy away from Chaplin’s political views, which were rather radical for Hollywood in his day. His film The Great Dictator is featured, convincingly recreating its biting satire of Hitler, but Cole goes above and beyond Chaplin’s critique, wryly situating it within the wider scope of global politics in the 1950s.

Performed in Pleasance Below, a small to medium-sized space at Pleasance Courtyard, the production shows what magic can be created with imaginative use of film clips, sound effects, screen captions, quick costume changes, and the sheer physicality of Cole’s performance. Most of the audience were on their feet to give rapturous applause at the end of the show.

My only minor quibble would be that the first ten minutes of the performance I saw maybe wasn’t quite as slick as it could have been, with the pace and the changes of focus being perhaps a little on the slow side. But it’s still early in the show’s run and I’m sure this will improve; in any case, later in the show things soon pick up speed, when changes of mood provide much light and shade. The show runs for the full length of the Fringe and is well worth a look – and not just if you’re a Chaplin fan.


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‘Fly, You Fools!’ (Beyond @ Pleasance Courtyard, until AUG 25 – not AUG 7 or 18)

“As an obvious spoof (of Lord of the Rings), the melodramatic action and pastiche dialogue presented by the cast draw gales of laughter from the audience.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Hot on the heels of Hold On To Your Butts at the same venue (see my earlier review) the New York-based theatre company Recent Cutbacks have another hit on their hands with a matching piece of comic theatrical spoofery of a relatively recent movie classic, Lord of the Rings.

Once again, the company presents a fast-paced “lo-fi” scene-for-scene parody, this time of Peter Jackson’s blockbuster, performed by a small troupe of three actors making frantic use of DIY props, back projection, shadow puppetry, mime, and knockabout physical theatre to create a hilarious take on the epic fantasy adventure. The comic mayhem is enhanced by an on-stage Foley Artist (that’s a Hollywood term for a sound-effects creator) who sits at a desk stage right with a laptop, a microphone, and a huge selection of musical instruments, sandboxes, crinkly paper, a cutlery drawer, and other assorted noise-making thingumajigs with which to enhance the tomfoolery.

The company create a vivid sense of the gothic sword-and-sorcery ambience of the movie as a backdrop to their merciless satire of the Tokien universe. The opportunities for parody are particularly good verbally as well as visually in this show, with much tongue-in-cheek pastiche of the portentous tone of Tolkien’s language and the apocalyptic register in which his lines are delivered by some of the grandiose actors who play his characters: yes, I mean you, Sir Ian McKellen (think: “Morrr-dorrr!”). Fans of the film will revel in recognising the parodic spoofs of key scenes, whist those unfamiliar with the source work and even young children (Over 8s) will enjoy the knockabout action and silly posturing of actors doing comic impressions of orcs, elves, dwarves, and wizards.
As an obvious spoof, the melodramatic action and pastiche dialogue presented by the cast draw gales of laughter from the audience. But it occurred to me whilst watching the show, that the sheer inventiveness of the physical theatre and the imaginative use of mime and suggestion by the cast – even if done straight-faced – could well have brought a theatrical adaptation of the book to the stage 40 years ago, when such a thing was thought impossible. However, there is nothing straight-faced about this laugh-out-loud romp through Middle Earth – I’ll never be able to read the novel again without giggling.

Like its co-production Hold On To Your Butts, this show runs at the Pleasance Courtyard (though in the Pleasance Beyond auditorium) until 25th August (not 7th or 18th), so book early as I suspect it will be yet another of the hottest tickets in town.

 


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‘Spy Movie: The Play!’ (Venue 33, Aug 9-12, 14-19, 21-26)

“The ensemble cast of four keep the laughs coming at a whirlwind pace. “

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

This hilarious spoof homage to the Bond movie franchise is a fast-paced satire which sends up pretty much every scene from Dr No to The Spy Who Loved Me. But you don’t need to be a fan of Ian Fleming’s 007 to appreciate the quickfire wordplay in this show, which bears the same relationship to the genre it parodies as Blazing Saddles does to westerns, or Police Squad does to 1970s TV cop shows. The premise of the show is that what you’re seeing on stage is a pitch to an audience of Hollywood movie producers to get the script turned into a film. The farcically disastrous goings-on are reminiscent of The Play That Goes Wrong; and two of the cast members you see were in that very show.

The protagonist of The Greatest Spy Movie (N)ever Made is Jane Blonde, who has 24 hours to save the world and likes her martinis “shaken, stirred, and jiggled”. Along the way, she must contend with the global criminal network EVIW, which stands for Every Villain In [the] World (just think about how a cockney would pronounce the word “evil”). From the first moments we are treated to merciless skits of scenes that are the hallmark of every classic Bond movie you’ll have seen: the opening credits sequence; the briefing from M; a chase down a ski slope; a trans-European rail journey; a car chase.

The ensemble cast of four keep the laughs coming at a whirlwind pace. Jo Hartland plays Jane Blonde with cool panache (though she refuses to dye her hair blonde), whilst the versatile Emily Waters tickles the funny bone playing character roles ranging from M (pronounced “mmm”) to super-villain Mr Lovely. James Watterson doubles as spy novelist Ian Flemish and American secret double agent Randy Lust. The irrepressible Matthew Howell plays just about everyone else and certainly gets to wear the greatest variety of hats as he darts seamlessly from role to role.

Using a minimal set consisting of a pair of curtains, the pseudo-cinematic action is irreverently created by some highly co-ordinated and inventive use of props, always with the tongue planted firmly in the cheek. The show’s publicity warns of loud sound effects, flashing lights and lasers, and smoke/haze, all used to create a lively sense of anarchic slapstick. This is also probably the only show in Edinburgh this season that makes use of an actual flying helicopter.

Staged in the Beneath auditorium at the Pleasance Courtyard, the show runs for nearly the whole of this month, excepting Tuesdays. Starting at midday, it’s an ideal laugh-a-minute show for all of the family. It’s already selling well, so Get Your Coats On and go buy your tickets!


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Beryl Cook: A Private View at Venue 33 until 25th AUG (not 12th or 19th)

“Well written and immaculately performed and produced”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars (Nae Bad )

The name of the late Beryl Cook (1926-2008) will be familiar to many people of a certain age. Labelled as a “naive” artist by the British art establishment, she was very well known for her works depicting plump, extrovert ladies and gentlemen enjoying themselves in pubs, at picnics, or on hen nights and the like. Her instantly recognisable personal style was so popular that she made a fortune in reproduction rights from greetings cards. A shy and private woman who shunned publicity, Cook had no formal training in art and took up the brush in her thirties and was entirely self-taught.

Cook is played by the veteran TV, film, and theatre actress Kara Wilson, who also wrote the script. Wilson met members of Cook’s family whilst researching her subject to shed light on this intriguing and enigmatic figure. No mean artist herself, this is Wilson’s fifth “painter play” as a writer, and she skilfully portrays Cook creating one of her most famous works Ladies’ Night whilst siting at a table full of paint pots and brushes.

The show successfully previewed twice earlier this year at the King Alfred Phoenix Theatre in Hampstead. As Cook/Wilson paints, she regales us with amusing anecdotes arising from the artist’s personal world: for all her shyness, Cook enjoyed a drink or two in the pubs of Plymouth, amidst their often rowdy clientele of hen nights, male strippers, and the drunken, tattooed sailors of the Royal Navy. Such a play clearly appeals to a certain demographic and looking around me, I spotted a number of ladies and gents who might well have been escapees from one of Cook’s wryly observational works. Performed in the Attic auditorium at the Pleasance Courtyard added an air of authenticity to the show, creating as it did the ambience of an artist’s studio.

There is, perhaps, a PhD thesis waiting to be written by some postgraduate Theatre Studies student on the subject of One-hour One-woman Shows at the Edinburgh Fringe; nowadays surely a major genre all of its own in the Festival calendar? This show was a fine example: well-written and immaculately performed and produced. It differs from many in this category in that it features a painter, rather than the ever-popular 19th century lady novelist, or the contemporary angst-ridden sex confessional. However, it’s a rather sedentary production; albeit necessarily so, as its protagonist paints whilst we watch and listen to her talk. One hesitates to opt for some cheap shot about “watching paint dry”, but apart from the visual aspect of the developing canvas, there isn’t much to see here. Script-wise, it is more of a radio play than a theatrical drama.

That being said, its target audience lapped it up and shows such as this are an agreeable way to spend an hour on a weekday afternoon. The paintings created live by Wilson during each performance are all on sale, with contact details available upon leaving the auditorium at the end of the show.


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‘Sh!t-faced Shakespeare®: Romeo and Juliet’ (Venue 150, until AUG 27th)

“A Fringe Institution”

Editorial Rating: 4 (Outstanding)

Gone are the days where you can have a glass of lunch and return to work. It is hard enough to get a way with a couple of snifters let alone get full-blown trollied. So as one of those who hanker for the good, old days it was pleasing to see the old ways continuing at Sh!t-faced Shakespeare.

The premise is simple. A cast of classically trained actors perform a whistle-stop Shakespearean play (this year: Romeo and Juliet). The twist being that one of the cast is, well, shit-faced.

And boy was she shit-faced.

The compere got the audience going outlining exactly how much the actor had put away. She explained how some audience members could get involved. There was a genuine buzz (NB: not easy in the EICC! A venue that is generally reserved for dreary conferences about tax).

How much had she drunk? A bottle of lager and half a bottle of voddie. That’s a decent knock. A cider was also mentioned.

The compere was involved throughout to intervene throughout as an ad hoc health and safety consultant: running on to ensure the drunk actor doesn’t actually play with a sword; ensuring the drunk cast member didn’t fall into the crowd; reminding the cast to do some Shakespeare etc.

The show started with a small dance scene. It was very obvious, very quickly which one of the cast was drunk. The evening I went along it was Benvolio (Maryam Grace) although I believe the night before it had been Juliet.

She, of course, absolutely steals the show whilst the rest of the cast desperately try to keep up as she does everything in her power to knock them off track. If there was any semblance of a fourth wall Grace rampages through it at every turn.

There was one hilarious moment of audience dialogue where Grace drops the ‘C bomb’, the compere runs on to tell her off and Grace  gets the audience to agree that in Scotland the word really is a friendly greeting. At another point she whipped the audience into a frenzy by shouting ”Fuck the patriarchy”. Throughout she is gold-dust and the audience absolutely love her.

Admittedly, at points some actual high-quality Shakespeare breaks out but never for too long as Grace tramples in.  The other actors just about manage not to be put off entirely and adeptly manage the mayhem that is ensuing around them and improvising their own gags.

Somehow, despite all this, the show just about runs to time and the feels incredibly slick. I’d be keen to see it again to see Grace sober and one of the others drunk (Romeo leathered would, I think, be quite something).

It is easy to see why this is a Fringe institution. The venue was full and the crowd cackled away throughout. It was clear that many have seen the show, or at least the concept, before and return for more… but isn’t that quite something when there is so much competition here in August?

I was as sober as the rest of the cast and, I suspect, that had I sunk a few beforehand the show would have been an entirely different beast.

Come for the concept. Stay for the Shakespeare. Get some beers in and go and see this.

 


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‘Yoga with Jillian – A New Comedy’ (Venue 33, until AUG 28th Aug)

“…a screwball comedy that feels more like sitting in as a visitor at the yoga class from hell rather than watching a play.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

Described by producers Project Y and Richard Jordan Productions as a screwball comedy, this drama feels more like sitting in as a visitor at the yoga class from hell rather than watching a play. As the title suggests, this is quite a physical drama, not only on the part of the eponymous protagonist, but also from the seven volunteer audience members who joined her on stage to do their stuff on mats.

But Jillian is no carrot juice-drinking guru; Michole Biancosino plays her as a feisty, neurotic ex-lawyer, who uses yoga to cope (not always successfully) with her chaotic urban life. Whilst celebrity yogis like Gwyneth Paltrow may exude glamorous woo-woo tranquillity, at one with the world around her, Jillian sometimes struggles to find enough inner peace to even get along with her rival yogis. As the show progresses, the ancient Hindu fitness philosophy is used as a framework and metaphor for the ups, downs, stretches, and fine balances of Jillian’s life story. Whilst a none too perfect practitioner herself, she is a less than fully sympathetic teacher, as her passive-aggressive relationship with her “class” often shows to hilarious effect.

The seven audience members (two men, five women) who joined the class onstage lend a weirdly voyeuristic vibe to watching the show that is quite different from a normal audience experience in a theatre. At several stages, we found ourselves facing a row of seven backsides presented to us as the class bent over to touch their toes. From my front row seat, at one point I had a man’s right foot only two feet from my face as, at Jillian’s bidding, they adopted the downward-facing three-legged dog position. At the other end of the stage, a middle-aged woman in a calf-length dress had perhaps wisely turned herself to face the audience into order to more modestly point her leg upstage. It must be said that these volunteers were able to do what was asked for them without too much stress or embarrassment. (Though, if you’re going along and plan to volunteer – maybe wear leggings and have a pedicure beforehand?)

Whilst yoga itself may not be a pursuit to everyone’s taste, this show is nonetheless a quirky, ironic take on its subject, rather as I’d hoped it would be. Lia Romeo’s writing comically explores the conflict between the outwardly calm philosophy of its subject and the angst-ridden lives of some of its devotees. So, get your coats on and go see it. Go whether or not you’ve been to a yoga class before. Stay for the mat-based philosophical humour. Leave thinking about how all of that stretching and balancing helps to soothe some screwed-up lives.

 


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‘…And This Is My Friend Mr Laurel’ (Venue 33, until AUG 28th)

“There are laughs aplenty in this show, but the problems the two men faced in their personal and professional lives provide a strong undercurrent of tragedy and pathos. “

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

To draw a full house for a late morning show on the first Sunday of the Fringe bodes well for any show up here. Is it the pulling power of a performer with a successful TV career behind him, or the familiarity of the eponymous subject? Either way, ex-sitcom star Jeffrey Holland (Hi-De-Hi, You Rang, M’Lord) drew a round of applause upon his entrance as well as at the end of this entertaining one-man show in the Pleasance Courtyard Upstairs.

Set in the bedroom of a very ill and silent Oliver Hardy in the 1950s, this tragi-comic drama shows us Stan Laurel’s last visit to see his dying former screen partner. Perhaps wisely, Holland avoids a constant tribute-act impersonation of Laurel, preferring to rely for most of the performance on a more relaxed off-screen version of the legendary comedian’s persona. However, there are regular short episodes where, donning a bowler hat, Holland enacts memorable exchanges from their most successful films; and here we get a fine impression of Laurel’s absurd comic gravitas, along with Ollie’s frustratedly blustering replies.

There are laughs aplenty in this show, but the problems the two men faced in their personal and professional lives provide a strong undercurrent of tragedy and pathos. With Ollie struck dumb by a crippling stroke, it’s left to Stan to look back on the triumphs and frustrations of their Hollywood career. As anyone familiar with their work knows, those short films from their heyday in the 1930s usually portray the couple as a pair of bums down on their luck and trying to make a dime in the Depression-era USA. It’s sad to note that the reality of Hollywood at the time meant that, despite their huge success, the two actors received only comfortable salaries, rather than the mind-boggling fees that stars expect today. Laurel in particular should have been a millionaire as the scriptwriter of their immortal routines. At several points Holland breaks down to portray what must have been very a real frustration felt by Laurel upon realising how he’d been ruthlessly exploited and fleeced by the studio system of the day. As this play suggests, the familiar trope of the melancholy behind the comic mask is very real – Tears of a Clown, indeed.

As is also quite well known, both men had chequered personal lives involving multiple and often disastrous marriages. This introduces more light and shade, with Holland movingly contrasting happy memories of love and romance, soon clouded over by the dark shadows of some messy divorces. Was there even a hint of mutual resentment between the two? Though a passive stooge on screen, Laurel was the leader behind the scenes, slaving at his typewriter and thrashing out deals with the studios whilst “Babe” (Ollie) spent his days on the golf course.

This already popular how runs until the end of the month, so get your coats on and go see it! Go to see a telly star play a film star. Stay to laugh at the jokes then cry along with Stan’s tears. Leave with the thought that screen laughter is often dearly bought by those whose lives are devoted to entertaining us.

‘Casting the Runes’ (Venue 33, until AUG 27th)

“We quickly left the outside daylight behind for a haunting and foreboding vibe whose icy fingers crept into every corner of the auditorium from the outset..”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Fans of the classic ghost stories of M R James will be familiar with the TV adaptations that grace our screens each Christmas. Now, here in Edinburgh, on a deceptively sunny lunchtime, the chilling horror of one of his best tales is vividly brought to life in close-up.

The Box Tale Soup theatre company faithfully reflect the master storyteller’s art in lifting his chilling tale off the page and onto the stage. We quickly left the outside daylight behind for a haunting and foreboding vibe whose icy fingers crept into every corner of the auditorium from the outset. The story itself is classic James: the safe, scholarly world of academe gradually subverted by the creeping menace of some much older, darker force that belongs between the pages of dusty medieval tomes rather than modern textbooks.

A cast of two are aided by some skilful use of puppetry for minor characters, including the decidedly creepy Mr Karswell. Noel Byrne, who looks suitably like Peter Cushing’s worrisome young brother, plays Professor Dunning, an academic with an interest in the occult. With the help of a new acquaintance, he explores a number of mysterious messages and a weird picture that seems to have a life of its own. Antonia Christophers, who plays the acquaintance, does a nice line in quivering fear and wide-eyed terror, as well as operating and voicing the often unsettling mannequins. A simple set is put to effective use, evoking a suitably Edwardian gothic vibe, with door handles that seem to turn themselves, creaking hinges, and a swirling mist worthy of any Hammer horror. No spoilers here, but there was a sudden lighting reveal that made the two ladies behind me audibly squeak as they jumped in their seats. A coup de theatre, that – you seldom get those sitting in your armchair at home.

The sense of fear so skilfully manipulated by James and the cast of this play echoes similar feelings evoked by Samuel Taylor Coleridge in his poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, some telling lines from which are quoted at one point:

“Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And, having once turned round walks on
And never turns his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread…”

I know I was not the only one in today’s audience who felt the tingling anticipation of a disembodied tap on the shoulder at certain points during the show.

Situated in a venue that’s part of the popular and lively Pleasance Courtyard complex, the haunting quality of this show is emphasised all the more as you emerge at the end into the contrasting, unfamiliar daylight. Though, this being Edinburgh, the leaden skies were throwing down a moribund shower of rain in ironic tribute. So get your coats on and go see this! Come to see a tale by a master storyteller. Stay for the creepy puppets and creaky hinges. Leave safe in the knowledge that no ghosts will follow you home in the daylight as you head off for lunch.


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One Duck Down (Pleasance Courtyard : Aug 5-19, 21-26 : 10:30 : 1hr)

“A magical, wholesome family show.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars: Outstanding

It is a not-generally-acknowledged truth that toddlers are jolly good at wrestling. You wouldn’t think, watching them sit shoving Pom Bears into their gob that – at any moment – they can turn into a match for Hulk Hogan.

Each has their own technique. Some favour ‘’The Mummy’’ were they tense every muscle in their body and go completely rigid. Others favour the opposite, and manage somehow to loosen every joint in their body making them impossible to carry. This is the jellyfish. My youngest, whilst not averse to either of these generally favours two similar techniques: either the octopus which sees her grappling around your limbs as you try to manhandle her into a buggy or Ikea high chair; or its close cousin the ‘’cat going to vets’ where she scraps like billy-o and grabs hold of nearby objects with a death grip.

A nightmare of every parent is having to fight any of the above in public. None of us come away from public wrangling looking like parent of the year. Most of us are just desperately trying not to swear.

I was worried about all this because I took my youngest to one of her first shows this morning. She’d been to stuff in previous years but she had – happily for the Marrs wallet – been a ‘’babe in arms’’. The problem with any show is that you just don’t know how they will react to being in a very different environment for an hour. So it was with a sense of trepidation I took my seat at One Duck Down. She looked at me. I looked at her. She promised to be a good girl. I handed over a packet of gingerbread men.

Happily the cast took any lingering worries away. One Duck Down had both of my youngsters entranced from the first moment. The story is one of the oldest in town brought bang up to date: a young man from a small-town fancies a woman who is a wrong ‘un. She sets him a series of challenges to win her heart from making seagulls sing the national anthem through to counting pebbles on a beach. Eventually she sets him the challenge which is the show: find me the 7,000 rubber ducks that have escaped from a shipping container and my heart is yours. Anyone who has seen Blue Planet will know that 7,000 rubber ducks actually did plop into the ocean a number of years ago, and have helped us understand the ocean currents as we see them wash up now and again.

The hero of the piece is the highly likeable Billy, who sets off in a bathtub to track the ducks down. As he does so he meets a series of colourful creatures – some seagulls who are besotted with an albatross who only has eyes for himself; a polar bear who loves rock and roll; some smelly crabs and some pirates in L-plates. He slowly but surely accumulates all but one.

The team behind the show manage manage to make it small-p political without becoming a party political broadcast: balancing important messages (the effects of global warming; plastic pollution; and what we can all do to make things better) with a fun story that the children enjoyed.

There was real cleverness here. Double-entendres, clever word-play, catchy (well-sung!) songs throughout and fun, well-crafted characters. Not many shows will have a bearded lady, a huge blue whale made out of plastic bags (a real highlight) and a sword fight on a carousel. More probably ought to! The cast put in a real shift changing role after role after role.

I enjoyed it all and not just because there were enough jokes pitched above the eyelines of the children to keep the adults amused.

I usually bemoan children’s shows being an hour as most of them could be a little tighter. A 50 minute show would probably lead to fewer casts having to battle with a kid having a meltdown. One Duck Down managed to keep most of the children’s attention for that time – no mean feat. My two were talking about it hours later. Both were bopping away to the songs, clapping at all the right points and enjoyed rocking along to Scozzie the Polar Bear.

Songs, clowning, puppetry and a lot of fun that keeps your kids spellbound for an hour. All in all, a real winner and a magical, wholesome family show.

outstanding

StarStarStarStarStar

Reviewer: Rob Marrs (Seen 5 August)

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