More fun than Wagner
0 The cast of Thor And Loki are experts at multi-tasking
celebrates his coming-of-age at 34, when he is gifted the hammer of the gods and a nice glittery bomber jacket.
Meanwhile, his alleged
arch-nemesis Loki is a confused teenage goth brought up in a hippy household who tries to join the army to fit in but can’t quite keep up with the camp army recruitment number. When they eventually meet, they unleash the supernatural forces of a twee recorder duet and join forces against the giants to oppose the building of an enchanted wall (topical) and the mistreatment of the ordinary mortals of Midgard. Along the way, there is an old-school tap dance routine about pacifism and a belting ballad about Loki’s parentage among other slick-witted set pieces.
Thor and Loki is daft throwaway fun but what elevates this sparkly production to musical theatre Valhalla is the sheer multi-tasking talent of the cast of six who are all mighty singers, fleet-footed dancers, funny actors and multiinstrumentalists (woodwind a speciality), making them all at least a quadruple threat. FIONA SHEPHERD
Until 26 August. Today 7:15pm. Laughing Horse @ The Mockingbird (Venue 441) JJJJ
It’s pitch black. “Tickets please,” a man says shining a torch in a woman’s face. She freaks out. “Not really,” he laughs. “It’s a free show!”
And as audience members stumble in the dark, tripping over metal chairs and each other, while the three-man cast battle with a semi-visible but elaborate homemade set, it certainly feels like one.
Rory Mullen, Karl Astbury and Ric Stringer might give the impression they’re creating the most shambolic performance on the Fringe in a venue they’ve only just arrived at.
However, as soon as each of their exquisitely observed, beautifully performed and poignantly funny tales begin, the chaos is replaced, as if by magic, by effortless talent.
The loosely connected scenes – a combination of sketches and monologues – are an extreme mash-up of comedy, tragedy and horror.
They range from the loneliness of a tunnelling Second World War soldier, to a coal miner trying to find a connection through complaining letters, to a raw chicken that becomes a grotesque metaphor for a waste of life.
Beneath the outlandish comedy, there’s a sadness to the writing and the way the group seem to deliberately not give themselves enough time to get anything ready.
Writer/ performer Mullen is captivating, as he dips in and out of carefully constructed characters, trying and failing to stop himself laughing, building to a finale that, through an innovative use of butter, pokes fun at pretentious art and theatre.
Powered by pure defiance, the group don’t care that they’ve invited me to the preview and the show’s not even ready.
They’re not doing this for the stars and a review in the Scotsman.
They’re not even doing it for the money (I have to remind them to put a bucket out at the end).
They’re doing this because they can, they’re free – and it’s brilliant.
SALLY STOTT
Until 19 August. Today 11:30pm.