‘Ginger’s Problem Area’ (Venue 17, until AUG 24th)

“Aunty Ginger is a deadpan whirlwind of good auld-fashioned filth and innuendo – in your endo.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

What is there left to say about Aunty Ginger that hasn’t already been splashed across the red tops, scrawled on bathroom walls, or said through tears in a witness impact statement?

Manchester’s leading pansexual Dragony Aunt takes to the stage like a pack of boozehounds takes to a vodka fountain and with all the caution of a cockapoodle on a trampoline. This is a no-holds-barred experience not recommended for the coy or nervous. Aunty Ginger is a deadpan whirlwind of good auld-fashioned filth and innuendo – in your endo.

From a confident blend of audience work and audiovisual, sixty minutes of laugh-out-loud funny entertainment emerge, spotlighting a performer with a rising reputation – or is she just pleased to see me? Ginger is lightning fast. Already naturally well endowed, Ginger’s mind is as quick as her tongue is sharp. She is professionally trained, well-honed by just enough years in drag not to be a drag, and so obviously enjoys doing what she loves being great at. Those rather odd men who love to feel uncomfortable around drag and have got something to prove without having anything to say are swatted away as flies to wanton boys. Ginger is the boss and don’t forget it.

The trouble is that this show, in its current format, can only ever be as good as its audience. Good crowd? Good craic. Surly gobshite crowd? Less fun to be had. The format needs tweaking so that some content can be whipped out and milked without relying so much on the crowd if they turn up flaccid. Still, Ginger is gracefully maturing into an EdFringe stalwart, a reliable source of satisfaction for when you need your funny bone rubbed in just the right way.

Come for the solid standup. Stay for the sparkling wit and repartee. Get your glittery gladrags on and go see this!


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Everest Mallory 24 (With Stanley)’ (Venue 29, until AUG 23rd)

“It’s Andy versus the elements as he showcases the elemental art of storytelling.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Outstanding)

Andy Dickinson returns to EdFringe with his comic creation, Stanley, the plain-spoken everyman eyewitness to history. Last year, we listened in as Stanley recounted his time with Napoleon Bonaparte during the Hundred Days. This year, Stanley’s great-grandson is along on the 1924 Mount Everest expedition – the second British attempt to conquer “the third pole”. Even folks as terrestrial and gradient-averse as this Cambridgeshire fentrotter have heard of how, 101 years ago, Edward Norton set a world altitude record of 8,572.8 metres and how, on the expedition’s third ascent, George Mallory and Andrew “Sandy” Irvine disappeared. Did they reach the summit before they perished? Could their still unrecovered Kodak camera contain the final proof that, despite some of the harshest conditions on our homeworld, the highest place on Earth was reached decades before Hillary & Norgay?

An awful lot of art and artistry goes into making something seem artless. Dickinson packs his shows like you’d want to pack for an expedition to the back of beyond. Nothing is coming with us except the most essential. It’s Andy versus the elements as he showcases the elemental art of storytelling. It’s a total and complete contrast to what’s on offer over at Assembly. There, punters can feast their eyes on the sumptuous costumes, sets, and staging of the massively emotive, pansori-style of theatre presented in the Korean season. Andy’s approach is more akin to Roald Amundsen’s straight there and back expedition to the South Pole.

What makes an Andy Dickinson production so memorable is the afterburn. As you walk out of the venue and into your favourite Nepalese restaurant, a flood of flashbacks wash over you, a reminder of just how much unadorned material has been presented in so short a span of time. As you hum and haw over whether to have the Machhako Tarkari or the Chicken Rumjatar (before finally settling, yet again, for the Solukhambu Lamb) it occurs to you that you have been witness to an exceptionally fine and informative presentation. You’ve actually learned a thing or six. Our narrator, Stanley, is put upon, trodden down, and occasionally even sneered at by history’s great and the good whose names we remember. The genius of Stanley is that he goes where no one else can go. He sees, and lives to recount, what few others have such precise knowledge of.

There is less tech in this production. I would like to have seen a side-on elevation explaining just how steep the climb really was, and just how sharply the path between life and death narrowed for the expedition between the Northern (Tibetan) Route’s primary camps – but then I would also like a ski lift. What I like best about Dickinson and Stanley is that they leave the audience entirely free to think and feel what they like. Subjectivity is left at base camp. The emphasis is on how objectively nuts and bonkers the whole premise of the story actually is, especially since it really did happen.

Come for the unadorned but always adorable storytelling. Stay for the inside track on one of the great moments of adventure, danger, and excitement. Get your windproof Burberry cotton smocks on and go see this!


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‘Wodehouse in Wonderland’ (Venue 17, until AUG 24th)

“There is a dramatic pivot in this piece delivered with such sudden, callous, earth-shatteringly precise cruelty that afterwards, for the first time ever, I find myself waiting by the stagedoor determined to shake the hand of the horribly talented actor who has just sucker punched us all in the gut.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

We enter to find ourselves in the study of one of the most celebrated writers of English since Chaucer’s pilgrims first set out to Canterbury. The seemingly uncomplicated genius of Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (1881 – 1975) conjoured into being such immortals as Jeeves and Wooster, Ukridge, Mr Mulliner, as well as some of the most popular, zeitgeisty smash hits of the interwar years. Gershwin, Porter, Kern and Novello all knew him as an equal. He was big in America at a time when America itself was getting big.

Stage left there’s a home bar. Scotch and soda, martinis and the requisite stemware. In the centre, behind the writing desk, a picture window looks out over the Suffolk County landscape – Suffolk County, Long Island, not the East of England for reasons which will become obvious as the plot thickens. A red leather chesterfield armchair completes the scene. It’s the familiar haunt of someone whose literary oeuvre and immortal reputation became established in his own lifetime in the way that an auld oak tree or a gothic catheral might seem established only after the passage of centuries.

Robert Daws completely captures the chronological vertigo of this seemingly very ordinary Englishman towards the close of an extraordinary life. Daws is one of those faces familiar off the telly from ‘Midsummer Murders’, ‘Roger Roger’, ‘Robin of Sherwood’, and of course Fry and Laurie’s masterpiece ‘Jeeves and Wooster’ series. Daws is delivering one of the finnest bits of character work to be seen this EdFringe – this is the other show that us mega Pip Utton fans MUST SEE this year.

With a glove-like fitting, Daws inhabits the persona, personality, and personal space of Wodehouse, a familiar figure yet also an ultra private individual, a charmingly befuddled auld stick in the mud who came to public notice during the roaring exuberance of the 1920s. Wodehouse scaled the highest heights of celebratory fame and success. He became a legend in his own lifetime only to suffer one of those excrutiating moments of irrefutable British tabloid unfairness to rank alongside Michael Foot’s donkey jacket or Prince Harry’s entire adult life. The folk who love to loathe Wodehouse will never let us forget his ill-advised broadcasts from internment during WWII but this was not the only dark cloud that lour’d upon our Wodehouse. There is a dramatic pivot in this piece delivered with such sudden, callous, earth-shatteringly precise cruelty that afterwards, for the first time ever, I find myself waiting by the stagedoor determined to shake the hand of the horribly talented actor who has just sucker punched us all in the gut.

Here is a masterful performance to rank alongside Christopher Lee’s Saruman and for precisely the same reason. Lee was famously the only member of the LOTR cast to have actually met Tolkein. Similar magic has rubbed off on Robert Daws who has known, worked and collaborated with some of the very greatest Wodehousians – Carmichael, Fry, Laurie, Spall, Horden, Jarvis, and Mangan. Daws received the personal blessing and benediction for this production from Sir Edward Cazalet, the son of Wodehouse’s beloved daughter Leonora. Daws is himself of course the definitive Hildebrand “Tuppy” Glossop resoncibile for some of the most joyously side splitting moments of the 90s TV series. My only criticism of this show is that there isn’t a tie-in album of the seven or so Broadway songs written by Wodehouse which Daws merrily belts out with the calm, luxurious, powerful assurance of a 1932 Lagonda 3-litre Weymann.

Come for the candid yet reverential insight into a true great of English letters. Stay for simply one of the best solo performances you’ll see at this or any Fringe. Get your a trifle too exotic Sir white mess jackets on and go see this!


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‘Not Another Quiz Night’ (Venue 8, until AUG 23rd)

“This show is rowdy like an invasion of Mongolian horsearchers is rowdy.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

On balance, and after careful consideration, I can confidently say this is the best show I have seen at any EdFringe. A good review is a balance of the informative, the objective, and the subjective. For your information, this show is a Daliesque acid trip of a pub quiz with all the traditional elements done massive and then some. Objectively, the crowd is huge, mad for it, loving it, and kept thoroughly entertained throughout 90 minutes of brilliantly bonkers boisterousosity. Subjectively, how could I not love a show featuring popadom frisbee (Queensbury Rules)? There’s celebrity appearances, fat cupid, Liam and/or Noel Gallagher, as well as the single greatest Alan Rickman impersonation this side of Hogwarts.

Our host, Jake Bhardwaj, is a one-man Disaster Area – the plutonium rock band from ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ said to be the loudest rock band in the Galaxy, and also the loudest noise of any kind at all. Bhardwaj’s stagecraft is exceptional. Watching him is like having a front row seat at a supernova or seeing Usain Bolt run an egg spoon race against a kangaroo. Supported by a host of chaotic, colourful misfits, what Bhardwaj conjures into existence is definitely maybe the purest of pure doses of explosively lowbrow highbrow comedy delivered directly into the bloodstream. This show is rowdy like an invasion of Mongolian horsearchers is rowdy.

If you’re afraid of audience participation, look away now. There’s Biggest Crisp, Baywatch Beach Parade, and a piss-your-pants-laughing plethora of properly funny parts for everyone, front seats and back. There is also the pub quiz itself, which is a solid mix of pop culture and no-holds-barred tricky brain teasers. From the concept, through planning, and into delivery, this is a phenomenal EdFringe success story that needs to be added to every August calendar and spreadsheet. Come for the greatest and best bar trivia night in the known universe, stay for a brilliant piece of live theatre, get your coats on and go see this!

 


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‘1457, The Boy at Rest’ (Venue 17, until AUG 24th)

“This was my first experience of Korean national theatre and I am left wanting more! More! MORE”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

The story of the 15th-century Korean boy King Danjong has been told and retold down the ages. A child, too young to govern. An uncle, too ambitious not to seize the throne. A devoted wife, doomed to a lifetime of regret.

We enter to find that some of the most elegant and effective set dressings anywhere this EdFringe have transformed one of the University’s more functional lecture spaces into a sensual backdrop perfectly attuned to the pansori-style session of storytelling about to unfold. Contemporary pansori has been described as the sound of han – the sound of that uniquely Korean form of grief and sorrow. The genius of this production lies in what has been built on that melancholy foundation. Here is a production that is vibrant, laugh-out-loud funny, as well as poignant and thought-provoking. Three goblins (dokkaebi) act as our chorus, framing the narrative with puckish light-heartedness and head-shaking regret at what fools these mortals be.

Thanks to an ultra-contemporary byeokgeori / backdrop displaying colour-coded subtitles, nothing is lost in translation. Sitting in the back row of the theatre, I found the blending of live performance and visual tech aides fairly seamless, although those up front in the spit zone might feel differently. Pansori’s focus on emotional depth, singable narrative arcs, and traditional drum-based accompaniment were delivered by the bucketload by a company of stellar performers who hit all the high notes while also being accessible and (most importantly) really chuffing entertaining. The dokkaebi stole the show with their mix of clown and frown but there were also flashes of pure brilliance from across the company.

This was my first experience of Korean national theatre and I am left wanting more! More! MORE! Drawing on 5,000 years of history, troubled by outsiders, this production is a perfect showcase of national feeling, talent, and identity. Come for the spectacle, stay for the masterclass in professional stagecraft, get your durumagi on and go see this!


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‘Homo(sapien)’ (Venue 139, until AUG 24th)

“Here is a journey of self-discovery told with a fierce and memorable candour.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

There’s nothing in the world that’s better than a bit of good auld-fashioned Irish storytelling. The pace, the charm, the wit, the insight of honest-to-goodness craic done right cannot be beat. In Conor O’Dwyer’s debut play we meet Joey a neurotic mess of Catholic guilt and internalised homophobia. Joey is a Bad Gay™ (or so he thinks) because he’s never had sex with a dude and that’s the most important thing about being gay (right?).

Here is a journey of self-discovery told with a fierce and memorable candour. We enter to find a cross bedecked with flowers. Religion and religiousity are at the heart of this story about the Emerald Isle’s struggle for a modern rainbow identity and the seeming irreconcilability of traditional values and the universal truth that love is love. We grow-up with Joey. We experience his profound uncertainty and fear even in the midst of a largely supportive and loving community more at ease with who Joey is than he is.

As Saint John of Lennon wrote, “Life’s what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” Joey’s life story is a hodgepodge of misadventures and missed adventures. For all that not a lot actually happens the pace of this piece is second to none. This is a small tall tale that will resonate with anyone who has been left wondering if they spend too much time wondering. It’s an affirmation of the good in all of us, especially when we find the confidence to unclentch and be our trueselves.

O’Dwyer’s performance is brilliant. From the second he races onto the stage through to the final moments in which the clouds of existential crisis part. Each comic twist and dramatic turn of this cleverly crafted monodramatic melodrama is a masterclass in audience engagement. Come for the fabulousness, stay for the fabulous universality, get your coats on and go see this!


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‘Samia Rida: Kidnap’ (Venue 24, until AUG 10th)

“A deeply personal piece of storytelling, a superb storyteller, and a story that deserves to be heard and heard again.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Samia Rida is possibly, probably, almost certainly the most important voice you’ll hear this EdFringe. The youngest of four siblings, it became obvious early on that Samia had a knack for caring for her seriously disabled aulder brother. From a very early age, Samia was taking charge at bath and bedtime and all the rest. Like so many unseen little ones, Samia’s own childhood was profoundly impacted by the needs of another. Caring is really hard. It’s relentless. The other person’s needs are always the priority, catered to day and night, rain or shine, under the unforgiving, uncomprehending, and too often unsympathetic gaze of folks without a Scooby Doo of the daily reality as it is really lived.

To add complexity to chaos, Samia is the unquietly proud possessor of a lifelong identity crisis brought on by the clashing of parental cultures. With a Welsh mother and a Saudi father, Samia has skin in the game when it comes to the big questions of multiculturalism as it is lived from within rather than judged from without.

The former River City actress takes to the stage like a hurricane takes to a shanty town. Here is an uncompromising, deeply personal perspective which blows away the preconceptions and peculiarities of today’s mainstream focus on the actualisation of individuality as the summit of human achievement. The story centres on the messy separation of Samia’s parents, in particular her being kidnapped to Saudi Arabia by her father – a chain of events which received quite the flurry of press attention back in the day.

Having felt alienated in West London, Samia tells of being entirely all at sea in the gilded luxury of the much more traditional society. Again, Samia is uncompromising with her truth, but speaks fondly of the hosts of uncles, aunts, staff and retainers who populated this strange chapter in her life. The three most definitely not GIPers spookily assessing the show’s political messaging for Riyadh seem content with Samia’s largely positive picture of well-to-do family life in The Kingdom. The hacksaws won’t be needed tonight.

Here is a great wee EdFringe find. A deeply personal piece of storytelling, a superb storyteller, and a story that deserves to be heard and heard again. The message is one that will resonate with anyone who has put (or is putting) their life on hold for another, anyone who has been caught up in the breakdown of their parents’ relationship, anyone with a taste for the potent and profound. Here is a unique voice telling truths that are not heard nearly enough. Come for the all-too-human drama, stay for the belly laughs, get your leak and dragon patterned bishts on and go see this!


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‘The Spy Who Went to Rehab’ (Venue 23, until AUG 25th)

“This is McShane at his laser-guided, prince of precision comedy best. It is, quite simply, a perfect performance.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Outstanding)

Can the world’s greatest secret agent detox from his toxic masculinity? That is the premise of Gregg Ostrin’s superbly farcical play. Simon Cross is not afraid of anything. He’s been tied naked to the back of a crocodile, lived and let died more times than you’ve had unstirred martinis. Now he is facing his greatest challenge yet – his own journey into self-awareness.

This is a clever tribute to the genre – we know the name, we’ve got his number. Satiar Pourvasei as Cross is bang on target – landing on that part of the James Bond spectrum somewhere between the totally deadpan Lazenby and the tongue-in-cheek absurdity of Roger Moore. Pourvasei’s individual connections with the other members of his therapy group fizz and crackle, making Greg Ostrin’s bonkers script seem almost plausible… just for a moment.

Cross is an unreal amalgamation of fantasy and pathos. He’s a character who could stand alone as a one-hander character study. But, then again, every good superspy needs a great supervillain for counterpoint. As Lazarus Rex, Cross’ arch-nemesis, Fringe Legend Mike McShane delivers the goods, especially if you are in the market for an evil genius with attachment issues – even his white Persian cat has moved on and joined the yowling choir invisible. This is McShane at his laser-guided, prince of precision comedy best. It is, quite simply, a perfect performance.

There’s no escaping the problems with this production. Sightlines that just aren’t working, clunky gunfights, sluggish scene changes. There’s a great production in this vintage, but it needs to mature and clarify to become the exceptional dram of profound silliness it could be.

This is a laugh-out-loud yet loving tribute to a cherished oeuvre. Come for the authenticity. Stay for two of the best comic performances you’ll see anywhere this Fringe. Get your white tuxedo jackets on and go see this!


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‘Sherlock Holmes: The Last Act’ (Assembly Rooms: Drawing Room, until AUG 24 – not AUG 13 or 20)

“Miles-Thomas gives a performance that is something of a tour de force as he re-enacts a selection of the most famous of Conan Doyle’s tales”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Outstanding)

There’s a handful of Holmes-themed shows at the Fringe this year, ranging in style from Australian improv, to an audience participation murder mystery, to an all-woman show from which the great detective is entirely absent. But for a more traditional take on Conan Doyle’s immortal creation, head to the Assembly Rooms (Drawing Room) on George Street for this gripping one-man show.

This production’s impressive credentials suggest a show with much potential. The script was written by the late David Stuart Davies: a renowned Sherlockian scholar who was editor of Red Herring, the monthly in-house magazine of the Crime Writers Association, and wrote extensively about Holmes in both fictional and non-fictional works. The director is Gareth Davies, an RSC and West End theatre veteran, whose TV acting career boasts credits in everything from Z Cars to Blake’s 7. The solo performer is another stage and TV stalwart, Nigel Miles-Thomas (Minder, The Professionals) who will probably be best remembered by people of a certain age as Mr Davies the PE teacher in Grange Hill.

Set in 1916, the show presents an ageing Holmes as he returns to Baker Street from his retirement in Sussex to attend the funeral of his old friend and sidekick, Dr Watson. With his epic career behind him, Holmes reminisces about his adventures as the world’s first and only consulting detective. Miles-Thomas gives a performance that is something of a tour de force as he re-enacts a selection of the most famous of Conan Doyle’s tales; playing all of the characters from Holmes himself to his brother Mycroft, Dr Watson, and a selection of victims and villains from their adventures.

With a simple set and minimal use of props or costume, a highly atmospheric ambience is nonetheless created – almost gothic at times – by skilful use of light and sound. Miles-Thomas’s highly expressive and mobile face effectively creates striking transformations of character. In a sometimes uncanny exhibition of shape-shifting, he moves at various points from the cadaverous and urbane Holmes, to the hawk-nosed, vampirical arch-villain Professor Moriarty; thence to the lantern-jawed Sir Grimesby Roylott of The Adventure of the Speckled Band.

The medium-sized Drawing Room auditorium was pretty much a full house, standing testament to the enduring popularity of Sherlock Holmes – but I couldn’t help but notice that the demographic was very middle-aged. I’ve written elsewhere that increasingly younger audiences at the Fringe expect a little more in the way of bells and whistles in theatre shows – hence the other Holmes productions I mention above. The TV reboot of Sherlock exemplifies a shift in tastes away from the classical vibe of the original stories and I fear that Fringe theatre productions of this type will soon look more and more like period pieces. (Do they perhaps belong in the Spoken Word/Storytelling genre?)

Nonetheless, I suspect that there’s an audience for this show for the rest of its run throughout most of August and I’m sure that the great detective will continue to please and to pack them in.


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‘Mrs Roosevelt Flies To London’ (Assembly Rooms: Drawing Room, until AUG 24 – not AUG11 or 18)

“Eleanor Roosevelt certainly makes an admirable subject for a dramatized life story. “

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

Written and performed by Alison Skillbeck, this one-woman show is based on her exclusive access to the diaries of the woman who, as the spouse of FDR, became known as “the First Lady of the World”. Set in October 1942, the story focuses on her visit to wartime Britain, but there are flashbacks (and forwards) to provide glimpses of her life as a whole.

The show is very much in the traditional mould of worthy single-handed biographical shows about great women of history, which have been a prominent feature of Fringe drama for many years. These days, such productions largely appeal to a Boomer demographic, which was reflected in the nearly full house of which I was part in the Drawing Room: a medium-sized auditorium at the Assembly Rooms on George Street.

Skillbeck is a seasoned theatre performer who also has an impressive back catalogue of TV work, including many well-known shows ranging from Doctor Who to The Crown. On radio, she was even in The Archers for a while. As one might thus expect, her performance was engaging, thoroughly professional, and (becoming increasingly rare at the Fringe) audible.

Eleanor Roosevelt certainly makes an admirable subject for a dramatized life story. She was an extraordinarily energetic campaigner for a variety of causes, ranging from civil rights to child poverty and international diplomacy. Credited with defining the role of the First Lady in US politics, she nonetheless had more than her fair share of personal problems as FDR’s wife. Heartbroken by her philandering husband’s affair with her own social secretary, she soldiered on to support his political career, and helped to conceal the polio that crippled him physically and which could have rendered him unelectable in the eyes of the American public of the 1930s.

This, though, creates something of a problem. So eventful was Roosevelt’s life at the epicentre of world affairs, that her story – told in dramatic monologue – can too easily become a festival of name-dropping along with much box-ticking documentary of historical events. Whilst some of these drew murmurs of recognition from some members of the audience, it doesn’t create much in the way of visual theatre. Mobile as Skillbeck’s performance was, the ambience was very much that of a radio play.

Winning various awards in the past, this play is now on its third visit to the Fringe at Assembly. I’m sure there will continue to be an audience for shows of this type for some years to come, but is this style of leisurely-paced, low-tech production perhaps just beginning to feel a little dated? In her publicity, Skillbeck seeks an edge of contemporaneity by noting that the values Roosevelt upheld during her lifetime are under attack in our dangerous present-day world. That may be true, but I fear that this play’s undertone of rose-tinted nostalgic reminiscence offers little in response to such concerns.

Nonetheless, for those who like their drama cosy and informative, this is an agreeable enough way to spend an hour and fifteen minutes (a little longer than the typical Fringe show) on an Edinburgh morning. I dare say it will continue to draw good houses for the rest of its run throughout most of August.

 


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