Gola plays with privilege

Traverse Theatre (Venue 15) JJJJ There’s a fierce discussion, on this year’s Fringe, about how to combat xenophobia and racism in all its forms; but I doubt whether any of the writers involved approach the subject more gently, or with more quietly transformative effect, than the Iranian writer Nassim Soleimanpour.

Although his own writing career has been shaped by political prohibitions and oppressions – forcing him to write at a distance for western audiences he once thought he might never meet – Soleimanpour rarely if ever writes directly about politics.

Instead, he often adopts a technique where a different actor each day, who has never seen the text before, works with an audience to create the show live on stage.

The writer is always present as the shaping force in this live process, even when he is at a distance; and in his latest show Nassim, Soleimanpour uses this technique with a rare brilliance, to build bonds between a live British audience and the tale – told in the style of a children’s storybook – of a little boy called Nassim, who lives in the beautiful city of Shiraz, loves his Mum, and sits with her on the balcony of their house, reading stories.

At last week’s press performance, the brilliant actor and writer Chris Thorpe led the audience through the performance, which not only makes brilliant use of simple visual images, but also works gently and powerfully to break down the idea of language difference as a barrier, and to introduce its English-speaking audience to elements of Farsi so simple, beautiful and recognisable – the word for “mum”, the word for “home” – that they become strong, indestructible bridges between the two cultures.

“Yeki bood, yeki nabood”, goes the Persian phrase for “once upon a time”; it’s how all good stories begin, not least the story of human connection and hope embodied in the very form of Nassim Soleimanpour’s work, and – perhaps – now also embedded in the heart of everyone who sees this remarkable show. JOYCE MCMILLAN Gilded Balloon Teviot (Venue 14) JJJJ When you have grown up in the townships of South Africa, it’s hard not to laugh at the things white people get upset about.

Loyiso Gola has a lot of fun looking at white people’s problems from this perspective – gently reminding his audience that first world problems are pretty minor.

Gola is tall and rangy, with a habit of rolling his eyes and looking to the ceiling as he softly chides us for our privileged ways. But this is not “us and them” comedy. The theme of this show is unlearning what you think you know – and Gola has also decided to throw away the things he thinks he knows about white people – about education, class and what it means to be a man.

He still finds it astonishing to see poor white people – and he cannot quite believe his eyes when he sees a Caucasian person wielding a mop or broom.

In South Africa Gola is a really big deal, a well-known television name – but he drops this in subtly, halfway through the show, in the course of a very silly anecdote about a road trip gone wrong. The Boards (Venue 59) JJJ Cult singer/songwriter Michelle Shocked returns to the Fringe following last year’s intimate, in-the-round guerrilla gigs with an afternoon slot in the plush, dimly lit Boards bar of the Playhouse, which feels more like a supper club soiree.

Once again, she presents a rotating showcase of the three albums she recorded for Mercury Records in the late 80s and early 90s, with Short Sharp Shocked being the first out the hat. Some of her most enduring songs, from the expressive blues boogie of When I Grow Up via the conversational Memories of East Texas to her soothing hit Anchorage, are interspersed with an eloquently written career autobiography. It traces her journey from

0 Loyiso Gola: ‘Unlearning’ what he thinks he knows in a hilarious hour-long show We British people don’t like to hear people bigging themselv es up at the beginning of a show, he explains.

Gola may be able to play to huge rooms in South Africa, but it is a delight to see him working in a tiny room. He activist to artist and highlights a number of tensions – the truth versus reality of the show title – between how she saw herself and the projections made by her fanbase and the media, between the impromptu field recording which set her on the road to stardom when it was released as The Texas Campfire Tapes and her staunch objections to bootlegging her shows online.

It also details recent (and older) controversies surrounding allegations of racism and homophobia which have cost her concert appearances and her longterm relationship. FIONA SHEPHERD Paradise in the Vault (Venue 29) JJJ The Plaza Court Hotel in Boston is a city landmark, but by 1990 is eking out its fading reads the audience brilliantly, feeling his way, noticing the references we get and those we don’t.

His delivery combines the warm and playful intonation of Africa with the pace and rhythm of the great American grandeur until financier Avery Grand promises an $8 million makeover. Meanwhile, college dropout Joe Bacon just wants a job in room service. He finds a home among the hotel’s army of eccentrics, and all will be well as long as he doesn’t ask questions about why the lobby furniture’s disappearing and why he is being asked to take large sums of money to the bank in plastic bags.

Michael O’halloran’s imaginative, offbeat comedy by Boston-based Avenue Stage theatre company is a pleasant way to spend an hour. Quick-fire dialogue brings the hotel’s cast of eccentrics to life, from Bobby the camp sommelier (Geoffrey Pingree) to fiesty front of house manager Lana (Eunice Simmons).

Through all this, hapless, wide-eyed Joe (Desmond O’halloran) manages – against his expectations and ours – to swim rather than sink, even after that stand-ups. Behind his playful bewildered style is a brilliant comic brain – inviting us to question what we think we know about colour, privilege and our own history. CLAIRE SMITH unfortunate incident with the packet of condoms. Likeable, quirky and funny, Fish Food lifts the lid on the world of luxury hospitality in a few unexpected ways. SUSAN MANSFIELD Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) J Some comics have a gift for spinning gold from meaningless nonsense. Kat Bond isn’t one of them.

A ramshackle platform for her supposed versatility, it involves her playing various characters from the same dysfunctional family. The humour is daft, whimsical, literally lavatorial and painfully unfunny. If nothing else, this embarrassing rubbish strengthened my respect for the true masters of silliness. PAUL WHITELAW A self-confessed history nerd, Angela Barnes has a fascination with nuclear bunkers. The south London comic traces her obsession to a childhood growing up at the end of the Cold War – and to being born six weeks early – leading her to crave the safety of small spaces.

Now 40, Barnes has decided she doesn’t want kids of her own – although she has found herself in a proper mature relationship.

In her beautifully structured show, she weaves together memories of her concrete-bound childhood with notions of historical time and musings on her own biology. It is introspective but fairly universal ground and Barnes has an easy confidence with her material and a sense of being comfortable in her own skin.

Her jokes are neatly crafted and her observations draw recognition from the crowd.

She may be part of a Peter Pan generation, but Barnes has defined her own adulthood – and she defies anyone who dares to try to limit her choices in life.

She ends with a broad political flourish – which shows she has the confidence and wit to demolish the politicians and the pundits who try to tell other people how to live. CLAIRE SMITH Paradise in The Vault (Venue 29) JJ What happens when the social media goes bad?

This uneven but imaginative sci-fi, set in a totalitarian regime where you’re only as valuable as your last Instagram post, follows a group of young women as they try to avoid being “deleted”.

The intriguing world is more developed than the characters, but performers Melanie Kress and Miranda Teed are engaging, and writers Abigail Moselle and Jordana Belaiche inject some wry moments of selfreferential humour.

Developed from a shorter piece, the story needs more shape. A pseudo post-show Q&A session expands the scope further – but what it really needs is honing down. SALLY STOTT