Labyrinth is pretty much what I found inside this venue. I wasn't the only one, a group of women who decided I knew where I was going, apparently based on the shaky logic that I was in front of everyone else, ended up following me downstairs into a grubby room with a gleaming metal pole in the middle. My draft wit of "well at least we found the pole dancing room" went down like a bucket of sic.
Eventually someone tracked down the show to a small claustrophobic room called the cinema. With pole dancing in the basement perhaps it's best not to dwell on what type of shows they screen here!
Eventually the show began. Billed as a monologue exploring one woman's impulse to confess her crushes to a group of, often hairless, confused and often painky looking men she once went to school with. It was also adverted as a multimedia event, but this turned out to be some videos of the confused men and a word document with dating tips.
It's not a bad show, it cost me nothing to get in, I even had a few laughs along the way, but at the end of the day this was a loose comedic standup routine similar in style to something Ben Elton was doing back in the 80's, only not as funny.
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Marion Allen's number one hobby
Before you ask, Marion Allen's number one hobby is entering competitions. The sort that you find in Bella or take a break, assuming your ever get that bored at a dentist to read a copy. They are he kind of competition that wins you a lifetimes supply of Crunchy bars, which is in fact what's happened to Marion. Not that this play is about lone women eating chocolate while watching Mama Mia on dvd; far from it.
This is probably going to be one of my favourite shows of the Fringe. Delivered as a 30 minute monologue this mini playlett provides the inner thoughts of a house proud woman whose husband is run down by a teenage drunk driver. Not material for comedy you might think, but the performance, which from time to time is a little hysterical, delves into the pathos of grief and how, through ordinariness one woman copes with her loss. It's through her story we find the humour of coping.
The production is sleek, well written and very well acted.
A good start to my Fringe day.
This is probably going to be one of my favourite shows of the Fringe. Delivered as a 30 minute monologue this mini playlett provides the inner thoughts of a house proud woman whose husband is run down by a teenage drunk driver. Not material for comedy you might think, but the performance, which from time to time is a little hysterical, delves into the pathos of grief and how, through ordinariness one woman copes with her loss. It's through her story we find the humour of coping.
The production is sleek, well written and very well acted.
A good start to my Fringe day.
Alma Mater - Jenny Hughes
Alma Mater at first glance appears full of cliched stereotypes. There's the graduate who became a teacher, one who became a bastard Solicitor but who secretly enjoys it (he's also gay), one who became an actor but ended up being a female impersonator (not gay just theatrical), one who graduated with a politics degree and can't find a job, and one who dies in a car crash years after they graduate and fall out of touch. Oh and they all shared a house at uni, all were best friends and all went there separate ways until the aforementioned car crash reunites them in grief.
For a moment you could be forgiven for thinking you've wandered into a previously unaired episode of friends crossed with a softer version of shallow grave, but you'd be wrong. Alma Mater is a skilfully interwoven story, part monologue, part four handed drama, it uses every drama device it can lay it's hands on, softly mixed with a dialogue by Jenny Hughes that strays towards patronising but dives the other way when it should, and a deft but subtle piece of directing by Emma Merton.
50 minutes though is to short for this play. At the end it feels like there should be another act (at least) to allow us to enjoy and explore the lives of this tight social unit. If any play can transfer to the west end, it's this one, but it would need to be expanded out, perhaps coming back in a years time after the funeral to find out how all the various plot lines are resolved.
Plenty of good acting here but keep an eye out for the names Joshua Manning and Matthew Romain, scene stealers both they are clearly stars of tomorrow.
For a moment you could be forgiven for thinking you've wandered into a previously unaired episode of friends crossed with a softer version of shallow grave, but you'd be wrong. Alma Mater is a skilfully interwoven story, part monologue, part four handed drama, it uses every drama device it can lay it's hands on, softly mixed with a dialogue by Jenny Hughes that strays towards patronising but dives the other way when it should, and a deft but subtle piece of directing by Emma Merton.
50 minutes though is to short for this play. At the end it feels like there should be another act (at least) to allow us to enjoy and explore the lives of this tight social unit. If any play can transfer to the west end, it's this one, but it would need to be expanded out, perhaps coming back in a years time after the funeral to find out how all the various plot lines are resolved.
Plenty of good acting here but keep an eye out for the names Joshua Manning and Matthew Romain, scene stealers both they are clearly stars of tomorrow.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Floozy - Amy Tofte
Floozy is one of those plays that keeps the audience guessing, but not always in a good way. Starting off as a smart sassy comedy drama about two 30-something women flat-sharing after one catches her boyfriend getting more than a little pally with a property developer (what no hi-rise gag?).
The women are Bista (Alejandra Bursik-Cervantes) a rampant goddess of sex, and Victoria (Cady Zucherman) as cold as the ice cream she comfort eats with a "spoon the size of her face". Into this frictional mix comes Kevion (Michael Pignatelli) who blandly sleeps with both women behind each others back and then imploring them to share when caught out.
Okay. The story stArts straight away, characters are solidly created in seconds and with a minimum of exposition we are launched into a number of very funny scenes, many of them powered along by Michael Pignatelli's razor sharp timing that had the audience laughing at lines perhaps a little harder than the material deserved.
Then came the second act and here it's as though the writer , Amy Tofte, realised that her play wasn't edgy enough for Ed-Fringe and whacked in a sudden unexpected dollop of farce. Then when this looked the wrong way to go she changed tack again offering up blood and gore to sacrifice on the alter of cutting edge script writing.
Ultimately act 3 sees some of the cast return as ghosts, which is a shame as there sexually bland spectral performances aren't nearly as interesting as their earthly versions.
Despite all of that, for me, this is so far the best play I have seen at the Fringe. It has some great lines and Amy has created some very believable characters that combined to keep me hooked and often on the edge of my seat. Kudos to one actress whose blood kurdling scream actually did send shivers down my spine.
Id recommend anyone go see this play, but I hope once the Fringe is over the writer takes another look at the third act.
One last comment; the Baddy in this play didn't work for me at all. He was tall and that seemed to be used to indicate scary. It didn't and he wasn't all that comfortable in the part either. Sometimes small people can be scary too and a script like this didn't need the gimmick of a Jaws type character being menacing as though suddenly we were in panto land.
That aside, a play that's well worth seeing and shows the Fringe that you don't need a big venue or star names to create something good.
The women are Bista (Alejandra Bursik-Cervantes) a rampant goddess of sex, and Victoria (Cady Zucherman) as cold as the ice cream she comfort eats with a "spoon the size of her face". Into this frictional mix comes Kevion (Michael Pignatelli) who blandly sleeps with both women behind each others back and then imploring them to share when caught out.
Okay. The story stArts straight away, characters are solidly created in seconds and with a minimum of exposition we are launched into a number of very funny scenes, many of them powered along by Michael Pignatelli's razor sharp timing that had the audience laughing at lines perhaps a little harder than the material deserved.
Then came the second act and here it's as though the writer , Amy Tofte, realised that her play wasn't edgy enough for Ed-Fringe and whacked in a sudden unexpected dollop of farce. Then when this looked the wrong way to go she changed tack again offering up blood and gore to sacrifice on the alter of cutting edge script writing.
Ultimately act 3 sees some of the cast return as ghosts, which is a shame as there sexually bland spectral performances aren't nearly as interesting as their earthly versions.
Despite all of that, for me, this is so far the best play I have seen at the Fringe. It has some great lines and Amy has created some very believable characters that combined to keep me hooked and often on the edge of my seat. Kudos to one actress whose blood kurdling scream actually did send shivers down my spine.
Id recommend anyone go see this play, but I hope once the Fringe is over the writer takes another look at the third act.
One last comment; the Baddy in this play didn't work for me at all. He was tall and that seemed to be used to indicate scary. It didn't and he wasn't all that comfortable in the part either. Sometimes small people can be scary too and a script like this didn't need the gimmick of a Jaws type character being menacing as though suddenly we were in panto land.
That aside, a play that's well worth seeing and shows the Fringe that you don't need a big venue or star names to create something good.
You can't go swimming with your Ex-Husband - Zoe Cooper
A divorced couple accidentally share the same lift at work. Then it breaks down and they get to have some unwanted together-time. Starting on such a convenient flook of luck (or bad luck depending on your perspective) this play would be reasonably expected to flounder and die. It doesn't though. Something likeable about these two tragic characters, solidly created by Zoe Cooper, who appear to have divorced because of reasons unclear, keeps the narrative drive moving as we explore their fractured past.
At 50 minutes it felt perhaps a little too long. Suited maybe to a less taxing 20 or 30 minutes. Some of this time is taken up by the almost but not quite amusing voice of the computerised announcer, a cheerful rendition of Eddie the ship board computer from hhfttgallaxy, but the humour is irritating and largely an unnecessary distraction from the two core players.
It wrapped up neatly enough leaving the audience uncheated and well entertained, but it didn't feel like a Fringe play. It didn't feel cutting edge. But the again, perhaps that's not a bad thing.
The title is pants though.
At 50 minutes it felt perhaps a little too long. Suited maybe to a less taxing 20 or 30 minutes. Some of this time is taken up by the almost but not quite amusing voice of the computerised announcer, a cheerful rendition of Eddie the ship board computer from hhfttgallaxy, but the humour is irritating and largely an unnecessary distraction from the two core players.
It wrapped up neatly enough leaving the audience uncheated and well entertained, but it didn't feel like a Fringe play. It didn't feel cutting edge. But the again, perhaps that's not a bad thing.
The title is pants though.
BBC writers seminar
Cool seminar. Not sure I learnt too much there, but the people on display were by and large entertaining as was the woman in the audience who asked if bad grammar and poor English was now considered the norm. Clearly not someone out to make friends.
Odd thing. BBC staff always have posh voices! Do they come like that to the job? Pre-packaged bundles of perfectly articulated niceness? Or do the gain it, leach like, while on the job? And is vampiric assimilation a better world than school ground nepotism?
Answers on a post card.
Top tip from the head producer for Radio 4 comedy: Be Funny.
Odd thing. BBC staff always have posh voices! Do they come like that to the job? Pre-packaged bundles of perfectly articulated niceness? Or do the gain it, leach like, while on the job? And is vampiric assimilation a better world than school ground nepotism?
Answers on a post card.
Top tip from the head producer for Radio 4 comedy: Be Funny.
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Wednesday by Ian Winterton
Wednesday isn't your light and frothy play. It's not something you'd take a first date to, possibly not any date of any number.
Wednesday is a play that follows 50 minutes in the lives of two men and a woman who's tied to a bed. In the basement. While her abductor sits upstairs and tunes into his weekly dose of Coronation st.
Read the above quick enough and you might think Wednesday is played for laughs. Don't! There's nothing funny about this play and the only laughs to be found are the darkly comic kind that punctuate the gaps between the harrowing gasps of pity from the tied up woman and the brutalised beatings she regularly receives.
It's all justified. It all makes sense. The characters open up in front of the audience, they stay true to the audiences expectations, and even the twists are logically applied to a gripping story that as a bonus has a beginning middle and end.
It has excellent acting, the set, under the arches, claustrophobically dressed, is a gift to the director, but.....
...But at the end, the brutal bitter end of the play (this is one that was never going to have a happy ending) I felt only relief that it was over.
Seeing this type of play is perhaps necessary to remind us what violent people are capable off, and that sometimes they do it for no other reason than they can. But it left me hollow, perhaps because at the end of it I felt as though physical violence had been used as a substitute for character exploration.
Personally I prefer violence that's implied rather than graphically portrayed, here instead I felt like a voyeur on the set of a snuff movie.
Go to see it if you have a strong stomach. Stay well away if you don't.
Wednesday is a play that follows 50 minutes in the lives of two men and a woman who's tied to a bed. In the basement. While her abductor sits upstairs and tunes into his weekly dose of Coronation st.
Read the above quick enough and you might think Wednesday is played for laughs. Don't! There's nothing funny about this play and the only laughs to be found are the darkly comic kind that punctuate the gaps between the harrowing gasps of pity from the tied up woman and the brutalised beatings she regularly receives.
It's all justified. It all makes sense. The characters open up in front of the audience, they stay true to the audiences expectations, and even the twists are logically applied to a gripping story that as a bonus has a beginning middle and end.
It has excellent acting, the set, under the arches, claustrophobically dressed, is a gift to the director, but.....
...But at the end, the brutal bitter end of the play (this is one that was never going to have a happy ending) I felt only relief that it was over.
Seeing this type of play is perhaps necessary to remind us what violent people are capable off, and that sometimes they do it for no other reason than they can. But it left me hollow, perhaps because at the end of it I felt as though physical violence had been used as a substitute for character exploration.
Personally I prefer violence that's implied rather than graphically portrayed, here instead I felt like a voyeur on the set of a snuff movie.
Go to see it if you have a strong stomach. Stay well away if you don't.
Edinburgh Fringe - Launch Day
Today I face the might of Britons rail system as I travel 6 hours due north to Edinburgh and my first day at the Fringe festival. I've tried to get to this event for many years but failed for one pathetic reason or another, the question is; will it live up to the hype?
But that's all to come. First I need to survive the journey!
Launching in T-minus three hours.
Edit - T-Minus 14 minutes.
Edit 2 - Getting to York = painless, albeit the train didn't seem to have much chuff about it. Possibly the slowest longer distance train I've ever been on. Now on the York to Edinburgh train. Much faster and with free WiFi :)
Edit 3 - after a slight cock up with the buses I've arrived at Pollock Halls just below Arthurs Seat in a remarkably sunny Edinburgh. First performance in 2 hours.
But that's all to come. First I need to survive the journey!
Launching in T-minus three hours.
Edit - T-Minus 14 minutes.
Edit 2 - Getting to York = painless, albeit the train didn't seem to have much chuff about it. Possibly the slowest longer distance train I've ever been on. Now on the York to Edinburgh train. Much faster and with free WiFi :)
Edit 3 - after a slight cock up with the buses I've arrived at Pollock Halls just below Arthurs Seat in a remarkably sunny Edinburgh. First performance in 2 hours.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Edinburg Fringe - I'll be there soon :)
Edinburg fringe runs for about a month in August and shows 2,500 different types of performances. Next week I'll be there for the first time in my life, preparing to watch as many plays and musicals as I can in a short four days.
The object of the exercise is to see what modern play-writes are writing today, and to see how my writing shapes up in comparison.
That's all going to happen for me next week! Which leaves me a week to decide which socks to take and which side of my brain to leave behind.
The object of the exercise is to see what modern play-writes are writing today, and to see how my writing shapes up in comparison.
That's all going to happen for me next week! Which leaves me a week to decide which socks to take and which side of my brain to leave behind.
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