Tongue-in-cheek tumbles
As a taxi driver, Noel has seen it all: “At the beginning of the night, you see the appearance; at the end of the night, you see the truth.” Now, the protagonist of Eoin Colfer’s one-man play has reached the end of the night, literally and metaphorically. As MS gradually lays hold of his body, he records two sides of a C-90 cassette for his best friend Richard; instructions for his funeral and reflections on his life.
In this production directed by Ben Barnes, former director of Dublin’s Abbey Theatre, Irish actor Don Wycherley gives a wonderfully understated performance as a Wexford man unaccustomed to plumbing the depths of his soul. He faces his situation with a dry wit, and a thinly disguised despair.
Memories are interwoven throughout: the English teacher the boys loved to terrorise, the music they listened to (1980s pop pervades the play – the audience filed in to Blondie and Kool and the Gang), Noel’s first kiss with a Dublin holidaymaker who “kissed like she was chewing on a turnip”. And there was Rose, the girl he loved, and the throwaway remark he made which drove them apart.
Colfer has written a play about regrets, which is brave in the way it doesn’t attempt to draw out a heart-warming or life-affirming message from the wreckage. Little concerned with ambition, Noel kept on living in Wexford with his mother waiting for his “real life” to begin. Then, before it was well begun, he found himself planning his exit.
In a world where one-person shows are increasingly the work of writer-performers with an autobiographical element, there’s a danger that a well-written, well-acted play starts to feel anachronistic. It is worth remembering that plenty of riches have come this way in Fringes past, and will again.
No Show
Summerhall (Venue 26)
The snazzy costumes and smiling faces are all present and correct, but right from the start there’s something off-kilter about this circus show. For one thing, it takes place in a dark, low-ceilinged room in Summerhall, rather than a capacious big top. Which admittedly leads to one of No Show’s few drawbacks (they can’t show us everything they’re capable of ) but definitely fits with the edgy, non-conformist vibe these young women are going for.
Francesca, Kate, Lisa, Michelle and Alice stand before us, dressed in candystriped hotpants and sporting turquoise eye shadow. It’s a nod to audience expectations, showing us the glossy side of circus – but tongues are soon firmly planted in cheeks.
All five are competent acrobats, showing off a range of tumbles to get the party started. And each has a particular skill and talent, honed through years of training and performance.
Kate smashes her own PB for most cartwheels in one minute (55), Alice is a powerful hand-balancer, Lisa has mastered the Cyr Wheel and Francesca has us all wincing as she lifts a heavy container of water with her hair.
Michelle’s speciality is trapeze, but in the absence of height, she walks and talks us through her best routine. It’s a witty, frivolous moment, but the rest of the chat here is far from shallow. Graphic descriptions of what would happen if Lisa accidentally let the Cyr Wheel run over her foot, for example, leave us in no doubt what circus artistes put themselves through for our pleasure.
Most pointedly, we’re told about a TV show one took part in, where the men were asked to show off their acrobatics, while the women had to do the splits and look pretty. So here these performers are, asserting their right to show what all that training was for. And this time it’s for them, as much as us.