Fringereviews
In the midst of general grimness, it could feel indulgent to be laughing at two boggle-eyed sock puppets with heroically high voices deconstructing landmarks of popular culture, but boy, does the Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre provide a distracting tonic for the times.
Weeklythis month, the Socks are revisiting their greatest theatrical triumphs live via Zoom. Boo Lingerie (their Socky Horror Show) and Socks Do Shakespearscansion, eare still to come but first was a reprise of their hit 2013 sci-fi spoof Socks In Space with its then-topical jokes left in.
Even the pre-show music – helium renditions of spacethemed classics – raised a chortle, with Come On Alien, their homage to Ridley Scott’s film sung to the tune of Come On Eileen a particularly fine showcase of the talent for
satire and silliness which followed through to the show itself, which was a gleeful celebration of puntastic juvenilia involving cute costumes, DIY recreations of classic scifi scenes and an inspired musical tribute to the art of FX, called Green Screen and Some Foam (to the tune of… you guess), all executed in lovably lo-fi style
“Is it really theatre?” Ten years’ ago, this was a discussion that we often seemed to have when a show was made up of more than 30 per cent film footage. I’d usually argue that it was, particularly if I liked it. But as the Edinburgh Fringe Pandemic Special Edition is now revealing, through showsabout-shows-that-can-no longer-be-shows, including this thought provoking one-woman exploration of self-expression versus selfpromotion, by sometimes stand-up Emily Benita, perhaps there is a genre that sits somewhere between the two forms – and can shapeshift when necessary.
Energetically edited clips juxtaposing Emily’s work as a life model with posting selfies online and performing on stage are brought together by a wryly observed, noir-esque narration on what it means to be “brave”, while the metamechanics of writing about this are gleefully exposed and unpicked.
The strange sadness of delivering witty observations to an audience rendered silent through space gives a comic-tragic melancholy to the constellation of images, thoughts and ideas on exhibitionism in its many forms – one that gets a little lost in its own existential analysis in places and, at 26 minutes, has yet to reach any big bangstyle conclusions, but instead sparks an intimate discussion with the distant audience, an unheard partner in a shared conversation.