‘In The Black’ (Stephenson Theatre at TheSpace @ Surgeons’ Hall, until AUG 23 – not AUG 10 or 17)

“Degraft’s snappy verbal delivery makes strong use of vivid comic irony to show how American society can be too geared up for stereotypes which can inflict roles on us all.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

Quaz Degraft describes his show as “a dark comedy solo play about an ambitious Black accountant fighting for a seat at the table in the high-stakes world of Wall Street”. Presented in a light and lively style, Degraft plays a first-generation immigrant Ghanaian kid called Kofi whose traditional and ruthlessly ambitious father uses his belt to drive his son into the “respectable” profession of accountancy. The parental idea of the key to the American dream is to acquire qualification as a Certified Public Accountant (CPA).

The fact that the play opens and closes with Kofi in the fluorescent orange jumpsuit of a Federal Prison inmate is a vivid indicator of how the American Dream can turn into a nightmare. It’s a story about a search for identity as much as success, but from what Kofi’s family can see of life in New York City, financial success is identity.

However, the street culture of New York offers too many tempting distractions for the young Kofi that pull him away from the direction in which his father points. Degraft’s snappy verbal delivery makes strong use of vivid comic irony to show how American society can be too geared up for stereotypes which can inflict roles on us all. But is the system of huge corporate behemoths in the city’s financial district designed to admit kids like Kofi? He is working class as well as black – will those two things make him too much of an outsider? Will getting a CPA license solve his problems?

Dressing himself in the uniform of his target profession – a suit – Kofi talks his way into an entry-level position that he hopes will lead him to becoming “the (pre-slap) Will Smith of Wall Street”. But as this pacy drama quickly reveals, the rarified atmosphere of high finance has as many pitfalls as life at street level; and it’s not just white-collar crime that’s committed by the masters of the universe in their plate-glass corner offices.

This engaging one-man drama offers its audience two contemporary themes: that of the immigrant experience of finding a way to be admitted into a new culture; and the shock of toxic cultures that outsiders can experience once doors are opened to let them in.

Well worth a look, but the Stephenson Theatre in TheSpace @ Surgeons’ Hall is a small, intimate venue and seats will only get harder to come by. The show runs for most of August, but don’t leave it too long to grab a ticket.

 


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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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‘Don Quixote’ at Venue 20 until 25th AUG (not 19th)

“Knockabout slapstick; quick changes of scene, costume, and prop; melodramatic mime; abrupt changes of mood, from absurd whimsicality to reflective melancholy to quickfire gags; all accompanied by live music and song.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

The Finland-based Red Nose Company has been entertaining international audiences since 2008, garlanded with many awards for the quality of their productions along the way. This is their second visit to the Edinburgh Fringe with Don Quixote, the evergreen tale of the deluded would-be knight of the title and his faithful servant Sancho Panza.

The story is a four hundred year-old literary classic, exploring the human mind’s capacity for folly. Quixote is a minor aristocrat, driven by too much reading of chivalric romances to believe himself a knight errant. Recruiting a lowly farm labourer as his “squire”, he sets off on a journey, seeking adventure, romance, and a heroic reputation. This framework of soaring delusion being undermined by grim reality is a perfect set-up for what is essentially an extended Renaissance sitcom. Misunderstandings abound, with innkeepers’ daughters being mistaken for princesses; country pubs being mistaken for castles; and most famously, distant windmills being taken for fairytale giants. At every turn in the dialogue, Quixote’s lofty rhetoric is brought crashing down by the earthy, cynical realism of Panza’s wry observations and mockery of his deluded master.

As their name suggests, the Red Nose Theatre perform as clowns – but not the largely silent mime artists one might see in a circus. These clowns speak and there is much interaction with the audience. Timo and Tuukka play all parts, including the two adventurers. As might be expected, there is much physicality in their humour: knockabout slapstick; quick changes of scene, costume, and prop; melodramatic mime; abrupt changes of mood, from absurd whimsicality to reflective melancholy to quickfire gags; all accompanied by live music and song.

A simple set consisting of a pair of red curtains upstage is all that’s needed for a setting; everything else is created by the actions of the two-man cast and the imagination of the audience. One slight drawback with this production is the choice of venue. The Bijou Theatre at Assembly on George Street is situated in The Spiegeltent, that well- known “big top” marquee with a 1920s cabaret-style interior that’s been a feature of the Fringe for years in various locations. Whilst suitably reminiscent of a circus tent, the wooden framework requires numerous fairly wide columns to hold it up, two of which are immediately either side of the forestage. These can cause a few sightline problems from certain seats, so maybe get there early to ensure you get a good view?

The performance I saw was their opening afternoon of a run that will see them here for the full Fringe season. The pace was very slightly on the slow side, but I have no doubt that the show will gather momentum as word gets around. Well worth a visit.


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‘A Montage of Monet’ (Venue 236, Aug 9-10, 12-17)

“An aged-up Stephen Smith plays the eponymous artist with all the power and emphasis that can be mustered by a younger actor playing an old man.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

This is a very engaging and thoughtful show presenting the life, loves, and art of the legendary French impressionist painter, Claude Monet. As we are shown, the great artist’s private life was certainly full enough of drama, crisis, and angst to justify a play. This production, a piece of well-crafted new writing by Joan Greening, takes us on a journey to Belle Epoque Paris and beyond, offering much entertaining insight into the bohemian world of these creative types whilst shattering a few myths about what drives their urge to paint.

The small, black box Mint Studio of Greenside @ George Street is simply transformed into the artist’s world by means of a few props and we see Monet’s instantly recognisable works projected onto a blank canvas standing on an easel. An aged-up Stephen Smith plays the eponymous artist with all the power and emphasis that can be mustered by a younger actor playing an old man. Two characteristics of this production give it a very intimate feel. The lighting is deliberately kept fairly low – much at odds with the bursting colour of Monet’s canvases, but subtly encouraging introspective focus on the man himself. Secondly, the monologue is quietly underscored by original piano music by Joseph Furey playing in the background. I’m not usually a fan of incidental music in theatre, but this gently melodic accompaniment adds a wistful backdrop to Monet’s tale.

The human story behind the legendary paintings is often fascinating and revealing. Monet was no saint: an aesthete, but no angel. The roller coaster of his love life often belies the tranquillity evoked by his art. His relationships with fellow artists were often complex, whilst catastrophic events in his own life often threatened his very ability to create his works. Spiced with moments of humour and wit, there are also many surprising revelations concerning the stories behind some of his most celebrated images. No spoilers here, but I’ll never look at his famous Water Lilies paintings in the same way again, having been told how the subject matter in his garden pond at Giverny was so beautifully arranged. There was even a word of warning for us critics in learning how the name of the genre Impressionism arose from some laboured mockery by an infamous and now largely forgotten journalist.

Of the many solo shows on offer at the Fringe, a number are always biographical dramatisations of some historical person’s life: often a literary or show business figure, or more rarely, an artist. The problems inherent in representing an artist’s life on stage include: the sedentary nature of their work; talented individuals leading often dull and uneventful private lives; and the difficulty of making drama from the creation of still-life in the shape of a canvas or sculpture. In a different show I saw earlier this week, we watched an actor physically recreate a painting brush-in-hand as she spoke to the audience in character as the artist in question; very talented and skilled, but not great theatre and more suited to the radio. This production does not make the same mistake and is thus well worth going along to see.


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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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‘Aude Lener – Love Reboot’ Venue 53 until 24th AUG (not 11th)

“Wanna feel loved? I’m no magician; I’m just French.”

Editorial Rating: 4  Stars (Nae Bad )

As a regular visitor to the Fringe for some years now, I’ve always had a soft spot for single-handed shows. So often the preferred vehicle for solo female performers, they can frequently take you by surprise, drawing from the almost infinite well of personal imagination and experience, unhindered by the theatrical presumptions inherent in a full-cast play. This slick, energetic, and well-staged production is written and performed in English (with occasional forays into Française) by the French film and TV actress Aude Lener.

Part stand-up comedy, part pop-philosophical treatise, part scatological cabaret, Lener delivers a wryly amusing exploration of a single woman’s life as she realises that the pursuit of love is slipping through her ageing fingers. As she wearily notes with a particularly gallic take on her situation: “Wanna feel loved? I’m no magician; I’m just French.” There is physical action a-plenty as Lener presents us with a rapid-fire series of vignettes enacting her somewhat crazy social and family life. These include a rather clever whiteboard presentation; much skilful use of a banana as a visual metaphor (oh, how the ladies in the front row giggled); the funniest rendition of Amazing Grace I’ve ever heard; and the recurring ghostly presence of her Aunt Madeline, who is dead but won’t lie down and keeps intruding into Aude’s life like an escapee from some grand guignol show at a seedy theatre in 1950s Pigalle.

Lener herself is something of a dramatic phenomenon. Her demure movie star face is elastic enough to quickly contort into a thousand visual caricatures to suit as many different voices, some her own internal monologue, others those of relatives, friends, and a succession of would-be lovers. With her pacy and emphatic delivery, she packs much observational humour, wit, and physicality into this 50-minute whirlwind of a show. Maybe it’s a cliché of national stereotyping for me to say that Lener’s French accent imbues her comedic insights with a philosophical authority that just wouldn’t be there if it came from a British actress? But it does.

So if, like me, you’re looking for something a little different to seek out in a small black-box studio theatre and won’t lose sleep if you never again see yet another angst-ridden portrayal of Emily Brontë or Mary Shelley, get yourself to TheSpace @ Surgeon’s Hall (Theatre 3) to laugh along with this quirky little gem.


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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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‘Mr Sleepybum’ (Venue 8, until AUG 27th)

“Just the sort of silly, puerile, crackers show that the Fringe needs for kids!”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad)

When you think about an act designed for children and their parents based around an adult who sleeps a lot is a truly brave move. People think the Fringe needs to be radical, brave, and boundary pushing. What could be braver than talking about sleep to a mother of a four-year-old? Parents know better than anyone why sleep deprivation was used at Guantanamo Bay.

I didn’t attend for the bravery. My girls picked. They are seasoned Fringe goers and they know there are three only three sure fire ways to pick a decent show: (a) by reading Get Your Coats On (b) by getting drunk in Abattoir and asking Clive Anderson (c) picking a show with a funny name.

Using the tried and tested (C) method we found ourselves queueing outside Assembly Box. To the surprise of no one I found they had also rechristened me as Mr Sleepybum.

And we were all glad we went along.

Assembly Box is one of the smaller venues in the area (it is a shipping container, after all) but we were all heartened to see a decent queue of kids and adults. Shows in wee venues really do need a crowd otherwise things can get awkward. This is doubly true if there is the possibility of audience participation. I still wake in cold sweats about last year’s three person audience where the act insisted on team-based audience participation.

Happily the Box was full.

We entered to see someone asleep under a duvet. Oddly none of the children poked at it. Or jumped on his head.

Over the course of the next 45 minutes (note to all every other performance aimed at 3-10 year olds: this is the perfect length of show. I think ten would be the upper limit) we were taken through a series of Mr Sleepybum’s dreams. Jody Kamali knows how to hold a crowd and knows how to make children and adults laugh. A rare skill and he mixed wit, physical comedy, wackiness and the odd adult allusion to great effect. It all came together rather nicely and my kids laughed throughout.  Sometimes little chuckles. Sometimes proper belly laughs.  My 6-year-old in particular loved it.

Each dream was unique, each funny in their own way, each with significant ad libbing and audience participation. The audience in the show I went to were marvellous and got into the manic, maniac bonkers nature of it. I suspect every show is different and depends on how wild the audience wishes to get.

There were bits I have no idea if they were scripted or not. Mr Sleepybum dressing up as a police inspector and putting his jacket on only one arm added to the relentless bonkersness of the show whilst the sound engineer seemingly getting the wrong song for the shark dream was either unintentional genius or astonishingly good acting. There was one moment that got every single child off their feet and rampaging round the stage was glorious… but I shan’t spoil the surprise. Admittedly, there were a couple of moments that didn’t quite land as well as others but overall this was a grand wee show that deserved the full house and deserved to be at a bigger audience. Just the sort of silly, puerile, crackers show that the Fringe needs for kids.

One thing I would say: it does get raucous (which my kids loved – they were shouting and running about etc) but some children particularly neurodivergent ones may get a fright with the noise or things being thrown to them.

Come for the rubber masks. Stay for the raucous interaction. Get your pyjamas on and join for a kip.

 

‘My Father’s Nose’ (Front Room at Assembly Rooms, Venue 20 until AUG 27th)

“…one of those shows which encapsulates what Fringe theatre is all about: a two-hander with a minimal set, which is the springboard for an engaging and eminently watchable hour of lively, tragicomic drama.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars (Nae Bad )

This, I feel, is one of those shows which encapsulates what Fringe theatre is all about: a two-hander with a minimal set, which is the springboard for an engaging and eminently watchable hour of lively, tragicomic drama. Douglas Walker plays a recently bereaved man on a park bench, visibly struggling to cope with the loss of his father. With the help of a sympathetic passer-by, the joy and pain of his relationship with the lost parent is re-enacted in a whirlwind of wacky humour, song, and dance. The passer-by is played with much panache by Caitlin Campbell. Both actors are alumni of Bristol Improv Theatre and are appearing in other shows on the Fringe this year.   

In flashbacks, we see a lifetime of the joy and agony of father-and-child relationships, from fun-filled early years to teenage angst. The habits and foibles of loved ones that are the essence of memory form the basis of many set pieces in the show. An early audience favourite was a song from a childish perspective of Dad being a “Cupboardy Man”. Perhaps the most unlikely is a lively song and dance routine about Dad’s seeming obsession with his tax returns. This is the only show in Edinburgh in which you’re likely to hear a joyous two-part harmony ironically singing the praises of HMRC – who are “surprisingly helpful on the phone”, it seems. Performed with gusto as Walker and Campbell trip the light fantastic like Fred and Ginger, it brings an entirely new dimension to Higher-Rate Tax Relief and Allowable Expenses.

Along the way, Walker and Campbell explore the sometimes odd ways that we try to cling to memories of the departed. As the show’s title suggests, Douglas is obsessed with the image of his father’s nose. The dangers of such infatuations are wittily illustrated by the story of an Elizabethan widow who carried the severed head of her executed husband around with her for 30 years. Caitlin, who has “a certificate in psychiatric First Aid” tries to help things along with small episodes of street therapy: is love all we need? A personal favourite was her hilariously pedantic critique of John Lennon’s lyrics to the Beatles hit “All You Need is Love”. I’ll never hear that song again without realising it’s a sequence of tautological platitudes loosely based around Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. (Was it ever anything else?) Another memorable digression concerns the sales statistics for rhubarb crumble in Schleswig-Holstein, which may raise a reminiscent smile among those of a certain age.

This is a little gem of a show that deserves an audience for its run in the middle of George Street right up to the end of the month. So whether you’re a civil servant or a Beatles fan, get your coats on and go see it! Come for the lively song and dance humour. Stay for the quirky insights into how we remember those we love. Leave with the thought that never again will completing a tax return seem quite so daunting.   


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