Little house of horrors
Jordan’s nan is dead. Which is probably just as well, given what he does to her at the end of this crazy, wonderful show. But there is a lot that happens before granny gets…
Anyway, Jordan Brooks is a startlingly talented comedian. Some painfully funny clowning is hung on the thinnest of narrative lines along with talking body parts, bad thought marbles and the mathematics of guilt-free smoking. There is not a single moment in this comedy hour that is expectable and that is a real headrush. I cannot remember the last time I was so eager to find out what the next funny in a show was going to be, and for that funny to come at me in such ever-mutating form.
This is the comedy of constant discombobulation and it is glorious. Fans of mime are in for a treat, as are fans of fellatio. His hour constantly spins, pin-sharp, from one reality to another, and I rather enjoyed patting Richard Gadd on the head murmering “shush horsey”, as the man on my other side did the same to me. This is a clever, naughty show that plays with its audience like a cat with a toy mouse. There is much comedy jeopardy when laughs come from dementia and bowel cancer. But I found this show as funny as Jordan’s shoulders did. And that is funny!
Class Mates
thespace on the Mile (Venue 39)
“I’ve missed sugar craft and archery; I’m not missing Zumba,” says a woman in leopard print leggings. Later, she’s there again, on crutches this time but still ready to go: “I’ll just do my top half; it’ll be like the Paralympics.”
There’s lots of amusing one-liners in this upbeat play about three recreational “evening” classes – fitness, anti-natal and craftwork – written by Anne-marie Draycott and Charity Trimm and performed by a group of graduates from Edinburgh Napier and Queen Margaret University. It’s a world that’s not often seen on stage, but one that’s full of friendship
Black Mountain
Roundabout @ Summerhall (Venue 26)
Paul and Rebecca aren’t on holiday: instead, they’re on a break from their problems, which Rebecca wants to confront and Paul desperately wants to forget. They’ve rented a remote house in the Welsh woods where a couple of leftover Stephen King paperbacks tip the hat to one of King’s lesser – non-supernatural – novellas (although to specify which one risks giving the game away).
There’s no shame in taking a chilly sliver of inspiration from elsewhere and Brad Birch’s terrific psychological thriller takes a host of familiar elements and transforms them into something compellingly new. The brittle dances of dialogue between the damaged couple actually sound authentic and the impeccable performances of Katie Ellin-salt and Hasan Dixon add to the veracity. Paul doesn’t need to confront his problem as it’s followed him there in the shape of an old flame (a beatifically
and appealing to spend an hour in.
A pregnant businesswoman forms an unlikely relationship with a chip shop worker, a fashion blogger learns that trying to look “spontaneous and free” can sometimes be anything but, and two sides of an affair are shown in a refreshingly compassionate way, while connecting different story strands in a satisfying structural twist.
The writing and performances are strongest in the comic moments, and whenever anything more serious gets thrown in there’s a danger things become more melodramatic. A more consistent comic tone throughout feels like it would help – especially as this is clearly where the heart of this bright and bubbly play lies.
Ingo’s War
Pleasance Dome (Venue 23)
Whimpering his way through World War II, a unnerving Sally Messham). This intelligently paced coproduction from Paines Plough along with Theatr Clywd and Orange Tree Theatre gradually racks up the tension with dependable genre aspects (a missing axe from the woodshed, the distant sounds of logging chainsaws in the forest) without ever resorting to anything approaching hoary shocks or arch references.
This is as much a serious drama about the difficulties of forgiveness in a relationship (“I want to see you bleed ... and stop bleeding,” says Rebecca, who wants Paul to suffer “equal pain” for his transgressions) as it is a rock-solid genre piece. Performed in the round, director James Grieve and movement co-ordinator Jennifer Jackson use every foot of space to evoke the Welsh countryside, the hesitant distance between the damaged couple and the remote house in the woods they find themselves closeted in.
This is a real rarity: a psychological thriller that feels psychologically accurate – and it actually thrills too. cute little puppet dog finally learns to be brave in the face of adversity. This imaginative new show from East 15 Physical Theatre graduates, Ditto Theatre Company, might not delve too deeply into the horrors of war, but it’s warmhearted in a way that will appeal to a family audience and anyone who likes unchallenging drama where charming pets are the stars.
With the big movements, clear delivery and the kind of accentuated voices that are designed to ensure any younger members of the audience know what’s going on, the ensemble part-narrate and part-perform the story, using wooden boxes and their ever-moving bodies to capture the chaos of war and hint at the carnage that lies beneath the images of patriotic young men and women committed to serving their country.
It’s good to be brave, the play concludes, as Ingo travels across the frontline in France befriending and losing a chain of compassionate doglover owners. It’s a message that glosses over the fact that the world is full of injustice and, in such situations, being brave often means you get shot – but its unabashed idealism is nevertheless appealing.
Dates – At the Speed of Sound
Summerhall (Venue 26)
The speed-dating part of this interactive show is really good fun. Billed as an opportunity to have encounters with “random fellow humans”, rather than purely to find everlasting love, it’s a reminder of how many interesting people you can meet the Fringe.
The traditionally staged mini-dating plays before this need more development, with the larger-than-life characters veering from one emotion to another in a way that feels like a farce but with fewer jokes. The company should, however, consider running a bigger speed-dating Fringe event. Based on the audience’s reactions on the night I was in, I can imagine it would be really popular.
If you’re looking for the aggressive, vitriolic language of a relationship ending in the worst way, there’s plenty in Milly Thomas’ uncompromising two-hander. Continually swapping roles, a couple (played by Alan Mahon and Lydia Larson) enable us to compare the same violent acts when a woman and, then, a man carry them out.
It’s an interesting experiment, but one that overpowers the characters and leaves the story feeling emotionally hollow – a bit like the watermelon that is at one point scooped out with a hammer. A brief “I love you” at the end is moving, before the lights go down and we’re plunged back into the dark.
Tales of adoption aren’t unusual as dramatic subjects, but it’s different (Philomena aside) to find the perspective of a birth mother used as the springboard for such.
New York-based playwright and performer Mariah Maccarthy gives us the full immersive experience, however, with this true story of the moment her son was conceived (the birth father is mentioned once, with neither affection nor disdain) to the point at which she finally gave him up to his new fathers. Her comfort with telling this story as a performer is tempered by the difficulty the subject causes her, and we feel the yearning in some moments and the release of humour in others.
Maccarthy is a warm and relatable personality – although not everyone in the audience will share her taste for group sex or the music of Amanda Palmer – and the intricacies of the adoption process are well explained.
Full of frank sex chat and pithy lines about wanting a serious partner so they can “rub my genitals and get me brunch”, this monologue also bears deeper, subtler threads about living with a difficult decision you believe to be right and the effect of lack of financial support for single parents in America.
Katharine Ferns is in Stitches
Laughing Horse @ Cabaret Voltaire (Venue 338)
Ex-pat Canadian Ferns is a victim of child abuse, domestic violence and drug addiction, harrowing subjects she discusses with cathartic frankness in this uneven monologue. As she half-jokingly admits maybe she shouldn’t have billed it as a comedy show.
The strongest segments are played straight. The hacky gags are an intrusion. As a comic exploration of deeply serious issues, it’s a failure; as a confessional piece of anguished solo theatre, it’s occasionally quite moving.