THEATRE REVIEW: Sex Ed: The Musical (Edinburgh Fringe)

Out Write Productions

Edinburgh Fringe – theSpace @ Surgeons’ Hall

25 August 2012

Sex Ed: The Musical bills itself as a show which will tell you “Everything you never wanted to know about sex”. I think that should be altered slightly – it’s everything you thought you never wanted to know about sex, until you witnessed it all put into a series of very catchy songs and hilarious dances, at which point you couldn’t imagine how you wouldn’t want to hear about it.

The inaugural production of new theatre company Out Write Productions, this show caused hysterical laughter to break out throughout the audience as the riotously funny cast of seven take sixteen-year-old Gilbert and Gladys – along with the audience – on a journey through all the ins and outs (yes, pun intended – I stole it from the show) of sex, from contraception to technique and positions to sexual orientation. It’s all very silly, of course: sperm is represented by sock puppets, STIs are likened to cheese and phrases such as “vaginally tardy” are thrown around the stage. But the show manages to tread the line between funny and crude with skill, and ensure that serious issues are not trivialised whilst also having a lot of fun. This extends to the set, props and scene changes: the use of labels and signs indicates a home-made aspect to the show, but rather than highlighting any sense of unprofessionalism, cardboard signs such as “If We Had a Budget This Would Be A Scene Change” or “Focus On The Sign!” bring an extra dash of charming humour to the show.

Bethan Rigby and Isobel Wolff steal the show with their hilarious characterisation of Barbara and Glenda respectively. Rigby’s sense of physical comedy is spot-on, uproariously over-the-top at times but also touching in her own journey of self-discovery. Wolff’s motherly naivety is a brilliant foil to Agatha’s (Emily Snee) brashness and Hildegard’s (Lizzie Hartley) hopeless disorganisation and never-ending pregnancies. Vicky Buxton as Bob also provides many laughs with her forthright nature, and has one of the strongest voices in the musical numbers. The songs are all performed with gusto, and credit should really be given to all the cast for their ability to make it through numbers such as ‘Swallow My Pride’ with a straight face – there certainly wasn’t a single one to be found in the audience. Moments of hilarity came one after the other: from enforced audience participation on the part of two unsuspecting theatregoers who were made to wear ‘W**ker’ labels, to the transformation of shy Gilbert into a “kinky” lover, the show combined a wicked sense of humour and a warm heart which was encapsulated perfectly by the closing number of ‘Go F**k Yourself’.

There is a plethora of shows at the Fringe who have decided to stick ‘:The Musical’ onto the end of their title – enough to make me nervous about them all. Yet Sex Ed: The Musical certainly does not merit this anxiety, as the hilarious script and the relentless energy of the cast make for an hour-and-a-bit of unstoppable fun and hilarity.

THEATRE REVIEW: End to End (Edinburgh Fringe)

Gramophones Theatre Company

Edinburgh Fringe - Bannermans

25 August 2012

'End to End' is one of the quirky gems waiting to be found amongst the mad mish-mash (technical term) of the Free Fringe: it was recommended to me by two EFR reviewers (their thoughts on the show can be found here http://edfringereview.com/r/UCi_Q25cQ6WR3W81XDx6yg – shameless plug Number I-Don’t-Know-What), and word of mouth recommendations had obviously been doing a great job for the Gramophone Theatre Company. The back room of Bannermans was full to the brim for this performance, their last at the Fringe.

The show presents Hannah Stone, Ria Ashcroft and Kristy Guest's adventure from one end of the country to the other, as they travelled from Land's End to John O'Groats in April 2012. For the most part getting by on the kindness of strangers, their trip has been adapted into a touching and charming piece of theatre about human connections and the way that chance encounters, however fleeting, can make a deep impression. It is heart-warming, funny and at times unexpectedly moving, and the cheery, sparky spirit of these three women makes it impossible not to be swept away by their tales. Each performer has a particular personality trait which they exploit to characterise the narration whilst still managing to stick close to their true selves, making the show honest: there is Hannah the tea-loving worrier, Ria the (almost) fearless adventurer, and Kristy the wide-eyed innocent. The bond and love between these friends is evident and is passed on to the audience through their direct communication with us, sharing in their thoughts, feelings and desires. The involvement of names and stories of the people they met lends a truth to the show, and the three performers allow the audience in to share their personal highs and lows without ever creating a feeling of discomfort. When Kristy speaks of her homesickness, I am sure it strikes a chord with many in the audience: by simply reading a text message from her mother to evoke her feelings, the moment is touching without becoming sickly sweet or too obviously pulling at the heartstrings with long, demonstrative speeches.

The set is cluttered artistically with rucksacks, maps, signposts and blackboards which are updated as the story continues, as the girls rack up miles, costs and increasingly wackier modes of transport, from trains to tractors, space hoppers to scooters, hitch-hiking to handgliders. The use of photographs and film is a nice touch to bring truth to the tales and to add interest to the show, which could have become a little flat with just a spoken narrative. Similarly, the stylised enacting of aspects of the journey is effective, particularly Kristy's representation of handgliding and Hannah's comic episode of a difficult cycle ride. The mimes and models are sometimes childlike, sometimes striking, such as the recreation of the kite-flying at the conclusion of the journey. At times the show can verge on being a little too cheesy: at one point, on being told to shut our eyes, the audience are wafted with cushions (I peeked…) to simulate the sensation of travelling in the open air, which felt rather gimmicky. I can see the effect they were aiming for, but for me this attempt to take us on the journey with them misses the mark slightly and is somewhat unnecessary.

However, this is a very minor point: overall I was captivated by the charm of the show and by the touching journey of the three women. The show ends with every audience member being given a postcard addressed to the women, and a seed. I’m still deciding what to do with mine: but I can’t help but be inspired by the Gramophones’ experiences and their simple but touching rendering of their great British adventure.

Edinburgh Fringe Day 18 - Just for Lolz

(I am aware this is very very late and we are way past Day 18 of the Fringe, for which I humbly apologise...)

Although I'm not trying to fish for sympathy (....OK, yes I am. I can sense I'm probably not getting much after waxing lyrical about the amazing-ness of the Fringe...), this month has not been an easy one. In between all the shows I've been writing about, I have of course been co-editing EFR - and to be honest it's been as stressful as it has been fun. So I figured I need a good laugh every now and then to make the crises fade away. And the Fringe isn't short on comedy shows, although not all of them necessarily manage to provide "a good laugh". So, once again, here's a snapshot of my comedic experiences at the Fringe so far (the ones I witnessed on stage. Not the ones which involve me trying to be cool in front of actors, or going up and down in a hotel lift trying to find a show, or carrying a rucksack packed with whole chickens back to the house. Although I will admit all these things are pretty laughable in their own way.)

Anyway. First up, the Edinburgh Revue - comfortably at home in their own city, right? Well, maybe if they'd been allowed a better venue. The Banshee Labyrinth is not exactly designed for sketch comedy, and quite honestly the background music they play in that place is terrifying, and didn't wash away my initial concern at the name of the building I'd decided to venture into. Yet the Revue don't deserve a scary venue - they really do seem like lovely people and had a lot of fun with their show, throwing themselves into the silliness. As always, some sketches worked better than others, but they started strong with a quick and hilarious history of Edinburgh; with a series of tableaux representing everything from war and rebellion to Harry Potter and Greyfriars Bobby, they had me giggling from the off - a good sign. Beyond this, Adam Todd was consistently strong and I particularly enjoyed his portrayal of Hamlet at the job centre. The gameshow in which a couple have to 'prove their love' also guarantees a lot of laughs throughout, and didn't weaken or lose focus as some other sketches sadly did. Clarisse Loughrey and Katia Kvinge particularly shone in a wide variety of roles, but the whole troupe were likeable purely on the basis of their own enjoyment and enthusiasm. The venue leaves very little space for movement and no option for blackouts between sketches, but in general the Revue worked with these limitations with success. Sometimes the odd awkward laugh-less moment punctuated the fun, and the show is rather rough around the edges. But overall, a relaxed and enjoyable show.

Moving from the back room of the blood-curdling Banshee Labyrinth (it wasn't that bad - I just like alliteration) to the Pleasance Courtyard, and a prize of £2500. Or should that be £25,000? Or maybe £2.5 million? With Mark Watson in charge of proceedings, who knows? Yes, the Chortle Student Comedy Awards 2012. Six pounds for a night of eight of the best up-and-coming comedians, plus Mark Watson - definitely not a bad deal! And I got plenty of laughs for my money. Footlights stalwart Pierre Novellie was flying the flag for Cambridge and got the evening off to a great start: I'd heard a lot of the material before, but that didn't stop me enjoying it immensely and giggling away at his parodying of bio-yoghurt adverts and affectionate mockery of the Isle of Man. Elsewhere Kwame Asante, Hari Sriskantha and David Elms all tickled my funny bone, and huge credit should go to Jonny Pelham for having the audience in full-on hysterics for a good few minutes simply with the words "She died". One act, Johnny F Monotone (aka Sebastian Bloomfield) quite honestly left me baffled rather than amused, but I'll accept that it simply wasn't my kind of humour, and it seemed that others around me enjoyed the set. In the end it was Kwame Asante who took the big prize and - putting aside my Cantabrigian loyalty - I was pretty satisfied by that result: he's clearly a brilliantly talented comedian and a seemed a gracious and humbled victor. Hopefully we'll be seeing much more of this lot in the years to come, and I'll be a bit smug to say I saw and rated them all before they hit the bigtime.

Another chance to spot the rising stars came at the Footlights Free Show: I've been twice now (the beauty of the Free Fringe) and if you've been paying attention you might have read what I wrote about it the other day.... My second visit repeated some of the same acts as my first, but also some new ones. Again, I'd seen a lot of Ahir Shah's set before in Cambridge so probably didn't appreciate it as much as the rest of the crowd, but it went down well. For me the show was made by headliner Nish Kumar, who definitely deserves the label of "rising star" which TimeOut gave to him. His quips and anecdotes lifted my spirits from the symptoms of Fringe fatigue, and sent me back out into the sunshine with a broad grin on my face. Frequent performers at the Footlights' show are the three-man sketch troupe of Rory & Tim (yes, three man...) who are also well worth a watch - details, in another shameless plug, are here: http://edfringereview.com/r/UCDeIuJAT4ScYD6pXDx6yg

I'd definitely recommend them if you've got a free hour; but of course, all my comments on this comedy may be totally different to your own thoughts. This was obvious from the reviews which emerged of this year's offering from the Oxford Revue, 'Prattle Royale'. Now, I really wanted to like this show. I really did, and I went in there putting all my latent distrust of Oxford aside (sorry, it's the Cambridge in me...) and prepared to have a good time. Yet the show really struggled to make me laugh - my review here justifies why: http://edfringereview.com/r/UBkdvLdcRSqP1ieWXDx6yg. However, another certain high profile reviewing body gave the show five stars, raving about its hilarity. Were we at the same show? Had they drastically rewritten the script? Was one of us blind or deaf? Or - most likely - doesn't this just show the subjectivity that is inherent to reviewing, and particularly reviewing comedy: a sense of humour is such a particularly personal trait that it's even harder to provide the opinion of the masses than usual. I don't think this devalues the opinions of our critics in any way: I still firmly believe that critics do a fantastic job in providing feedback for shows and audience and creating conversation and debate about cultural events and performances. Yet performers who are unhappy with a bad review should always remember that there is probably someone in the audience who totally disagreed and was loving it. It just happens this wasn't the person whose job is it to publicly publish their opinion.

As a final note for today, I have a confession to make: I've become an Austentatious-aholic. After my fourth visit to the show, I haven't yet tired of it - the funniest thing I've seen here, without a doubt.

Edinburgh Fringe Day 12 - Variety is the spice of the Fringe

There are far far far too many shows on at the Fringe to talk in detail about everything I’ve seen – Austentatious became an exception, because…well, read the review and you’ll understand – so this is a quick-march-review-spectacular through my last few days of theatregoing. I have truly experienced the variety of the Fringe recently, from puppets to Footlights, from drag queens and burlesque to Mozart, from packed-out theatres to the back room of a tiny pub.

I’ll start with the burlesque. It was really an accident that I ended up at Briefs, a troupe of male burlesque performers from Australia. We set out to see Showstoppers, the improvised musical (by the way, we did see it another night – it is INCREDIBLE and I still can’t believe they improvised the whole thing) but, on finding it was sold out, took a punt on this “beef-caked and disorderly” Antipodean show on the advice of a charming man at the Underbelly box office. I don’t regret it – Briefs was one of the most hilarious evenings I’ve ever been witness to. Unfortunately I don’t have a record of cast names anywhere, but our brilliant compère not only had a range of fabulous outfits, but also kept the audience laughing throughout the show with a combination of camp flamboyance and wickedly blunt humour. The acts ranged from hilarious – a truly bizarre lapdance – to stunningly impressive, notably the aerial silks and rope routines. Not for the faint-hearted, but also don’t be put off by the ‘burlesque’ tagline if it makes you nervous: there really is very little here that is gratuitous or would make anyone uncomfortable. Rather it is an evening of impressive circus/cabaret/vaudeville acts combined with brashness, occasional crudeness, flamboyance and straightforward hilarity.

At the other end of the spectrum, one lunchtime I made my way down to The White Horse on Cannongate to see Dating George Orwell, a one-woman performance playing as part of the Free Fringe. This show really epitomised the charm and hidden delights of the Free Fringe; ushered through the tiny pub into a small, cosy back room – more English country pub than theatre venue – I was at first slightly perturbed by the intimacy of the venue – was this just going to be horrendously awkward? In fact, I very much enjoyed the show that followed. Kelly Jones (as lonely bookworm and birthday girl Pauline Duffy) is in turn adorable, pitiable, funny and perplexing as she relates her coming-of-age years and the combination of her love of literature with her sexual awakening. A strange concept perhaps, but utterly and surprisingly entertaining.

Elsewhere: the Footlights’ daily stand-up show is a cheap (in fact, free if you’re stingy and don’t donate anything at the end…) alternative to their tour show. In fact, having seen these performers on many occasions, I feel that the strength of this year’s Footlights lies in stand-up rather than sketches, so here is a great opportunity to see some of their best alongside some guests. My favourite new discovery from this show was the exquisitely rib-tickling musical comedy of Emerald Paston who closed the show and sent me on my way giggling appreciatively. For something more traditional, a modernised version of Mozart’s The Impresario finished yesterday (sorry, I meant to write this up sooner…) at Paradise in Augustine’s but was well worth a watch: even if you’re not into opera, you can’t help but be impressed by this über-talented cast. If you didn’t go, you missed out.

However my biggest MUST-SEE (capitalised because I can’t emphasise enough how much you should see it) is now The Girl With No Heart at Bedlam Theatre. I can’t thank the programmers of Bedlam enough this year, as their whole schedule for the festival is incredible, but this show in particular really is sensationally beautiful. I can’t sum it up in a couple of lines, so I’ll leave that review for another time…

THEATRE REVIEW: Austentatious (Edinburgh Fringe)

The Milk Monitors

Edinburgh Fringe - Laughing Horse @ The Counting House

10th August 2012

If someone had wanted to devise a show especially to appeal to my co-editor and me, they really couldn't have hit the nail on the head any harder and more precisely than the cast of 'Austentatious' did. We were hooked from the moment we saw those magic words in the Fringe guide - no, not 'Free Non-ticketed', although that did help... - 'An Improvised Jane Austen Novel'. Amazing.

This ensemble of six did not disappoint. It was silly, implausible, littered with the odd error and corpsing incident, but utterly delightful and unfailingly giggle-inducing. The title of each show is supplied via audience suggestion - charmingly written on slips of paper designed as classic Penguin book covers - and today we were treated to the mysteriously-titled 'Mr Bingley Pulls It Off'. Pulls what off, you may ask? Well, in the context of the preposterous plot, it turned out to be a glove, off the hand of Miss Clarissa Kopparberg (yes, as in the cider...) But beyond that, Mr Bingley (Graham Dickson) and his fellow Austenites also pulled off a comic performance with aplomb and panache that comprised admirable elements of improv, farce, pantomime and parody. Drawing on stock Austen characters - the pretty but poor girl, the condescending richer friend, the well-meaning but financially insecure young hero... - the cast of 'Austentatious' revel in cliché and plunge themselves into stereotypes without fear: hilarity ensues.

Being improv, and - dare I say it? - being inspired by Austen, the plot has little logical sense or intention of meaning or message, but that simply makes it all the funnier. Cariad Lloyd and Amy Cooke-Hodgson were a brilliant double act who led each other into fresh improvised ideas and supported each other through their continuation - the singing of their names being a prime example of a ridiculous yet hilarious motif that ensured constant laughter throughout a scene. Joseph Morpurgo and Andrew Murray did a sterling job of remaining straight-faced in the face of ludicrous evolutions of conversation, sneakily evil challenges set by fellow cast members, and the laughter which erupted from the full and enthusiastic audience. Yet it was when the cast let the mask slip a little that the production truly showed its heart and soul. Mistakes were almost inevitable in an improvised piece, and were at times surprisingly basic - "Lord Bingley!" exclaimed Mr Bingley in one lapse of concentration. Yet rather than detracting from the professionalism of the piece, these instances served to keep the audience on side as they enjoyed both quick-thinking improv and the holes that the cast dug themselves. Acknowledging these errors on stage and dealing with them humorously is a skill in itself, and one that the cast proved themselves to be highly adept at. Furthermore, it was a joy to see them standing at the sides of the stage and laughing at their colleagues' scenes, taking real enjoyment in each other's craft.

There seems little point in recounting the details of this particular story as it will only ever be appreciated by those who were there on the day, but suffice to say the tale of vintage weapons, financial concerns and square dancing was in the end brought to a reasonably neat end. My overall impression at the end of this amazingly free show (I would have happily paid to see this!) was a great sense of fun and enjoyment which spread from the actors to the audience to the harpist (Tamsin Dearnley) to the one-man tech team. I was promised "silliness and sophistication" and I got a generous helping of both, with a barrelful of laughs thrown in for good measure. 

Edinburgh Fringe Day 3 - Attraction & Animosity, Editor's Guilt, and some Improv.

After many nervous and increasingly stressful hours of waiting for deliverymen...We have EFR jumpers! They are bright bright red, shamelessly promotional things of beauty. But they also have a strange, Marmite effect - people are either drawn to you as if you're some kind of big scarlet magnet, or run away in deadly fear. Certainly there are many performers desperate for extra publicity and for reviews, and I love being out on the Royal Mile and chatting to people about their shows - I've heard that last year a couple of our reviewers literally got chased down the Mile by someone wanting a review written of their show. There's such a buzz here and it's brilliant seeing the amount of hard work and passion that goes into an extraordinary variety of shows. But I've heard other tales from reviewers that crowds part in front of them, as if some weird Moses-like aura  is attached to the jumpers. I certainly had my own strange experience when I reviewed my first show yesterday, Rosa Robson and Matilda Wnek's Beard. Entering the Baillie Room at Assembly, the entire room - audience and the show's tech team - turned and stared. Just stared, without any subtlety or embarrassment. Effortlessly grabbing the attention of an entire room of people purely by walking in is maybe every girl's secret dream, but this wasn't quite how I'd imagined it. It was disconcerting, as if they were all thinking - "ARGH. REVIEWER. JUDGEMENT. EVIL EVIL DREAM-DESTROYING CRITIC" (for the record, I didn't destroy any dreams - the girls gave a great show, and you can read my review here! http://edfringereview.com/r/UBpVkrfMQAamNUa9XDx6yg Shameless plug no.2). It reinforced what a strange position being a theatre critic is sometimes - involved in the theatre scene but not part of the gang, as it were. Apparently a strange beast, to be feared and not quite to be trusted... So walking around the Fringe with this big label of 'REVIEWER' stuck to me is going to be interesting.

Next, a small word of warning about the Free Fringe. It can be wacky and surprising and exhilarating and confusing and disappointing - and it can apparently be highly traumatic. One reviewer returned to the house so dumbstruck from such an intensely disturbing one-man show last night that I felt immense editorial guilt for unknowingly putting her through such an experience. So if you're looking for something different and unusual at the Fringe, there's plenty of choice. Just make sure it won't mess up your mental health.

However if you're looking to laugh yourself silly, go and see The Improverts! Yes, you! Go! See them! They are Bedlam Theatre's resident improv troupe from Edinburgh University and provided the best hour of improv I've seen. The cast of 5 were so slick, so tight, so quick and so, so funny: from conversing in sentences beginning with consecutive letters of the alphabet to a guessing game involving prosthetic legs smuggled inside bananas from Uruguay, the (surprising) all-male group dealt with everything thrown at them by the game formats and by the audience (including some drunk hecklers - this was a post-midnight show after all). Of course there were elements which didn't quite work, as is the tendency of improv, but in this case the hilarity far outdid the flop moments. David Elms particularly stood out for his accents, quick-thinking, subtlety and wittiness, but he was the leader of a strong ensemble performance. I can't recommend them enough - go go go before they sell out!!

And now if you'll excuse me, the sun is shining and I'm off to meet a star of Skins and review his play. Laters.

Edinburgh Fringe Day 1 - Scottish Accents, Getting Lost, The Royal Mile, and 'I Am, I Am'

So, after a train journey of immense excitement and rising panic, I've arrived at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe! I'm a Fringe virgin so these next few posts are as much about reviewing my Fringe experience - and shamelessly promoting the website I'm working for, edfringereview.com (plug no. 1) - as reviewing the shows I see here.

The first evening brought immediate problems. Now, I have a very good friend who is Scottish. I've been to Scotland before. I figured I could handle the accent. Oh no. A phone call from a Tesco delivery man ranked in difficulty levels approximately equally with one of my finals. Confusion ensued. Luckily, confusion was solved mainly through me pretending to understand what he was saying, adding the odd "Yes" and "Sure" into the conversation and then guessing afterwards what we'd actually been talking about. This is not meant disrespectfully in any way - I'm 100% sure it was my own incompetence - but it was hardly an encouraging start to a month in Scotland.

Meanwhile, it turns out one day trip to Edinburgh at the age of 8 is definitely not enough to enable me to know my way around. My first trip into the city centre the following day therefore brought another milestone: the first time I got lost in Edinburgh. I still don't know where The Voodoo Rooms are, but I had "fun" negotiating roadworks and dead-ends and alleys that lead nowhere... (Seriously, where ARE they?! If anyone knows, please let me know!) Another good start. The 'magic' of the Fringe had so far eluded me; up to this point I'd failed to understand the natives, failed to find one venue, found another whose entire system had crashed five minutes into the festival, and generally got pretty hot and bothered and unprofessional-looking.

But then... then I finally emerged onto the Royal Mile. And Toto, we were not in Kansas any more. We were in bizarre, absurd, heavenly theatre land. All niggling problems aside, I'm in love with the Fringe already. A magician swallowing a balloon, a girl group singing Lady Gaga, a couple of drag queens tottering past in stacked high heels, a pair of Victorian gentlemen giving me a flyer... even some free sweets! Not to mention the more traditional shows like As You Like It or Bugsy Malone. This is my kind of thing - I'm already dreading the day I have to leave.

And so my Fringe adventure kicked off for real. After an afternoon of flyer-collecting and e-mailing (So. Many. Emails.), the night brought around my first taste of a show. I was familiar with the comedy of I Am, I Am stars Lowell Belfield and Harry Michell from their work with the Cambridge Footlights, but this was my first taste of their musical comedy. The two performers worked perfectly as a duo, harmonious in both their singing and their not-at-all staged (ahem) conversation between numbers. Playing on awkward social situations with girls and traumatic school experiences is perhaps not an original or difficult line of comedy, but these guys brought their own fresh sense of fun, wit, charm and occasional grossness to the material. The performance wasn't without its faults - you could tell this was a preview - but the audience lapped it up and even the unsuccessful moments were dealt with in a funny and unembarrassed way. Lowell melted the audience's hearts by milking his "adorable" qualities, but it was Harry Michell who gave me my own personal serenade - however "platonically" it was intended. Ah well, I still felt special. The song of the night for me however was their ditty based around puns on London Tube stops, which had the whole audience in fits of giggles.

So, the improv was sharp, the patter with the audience was charming, the atmosphere was fun: and we forgave them for all the small mistakes. The boys were unaware they were carrying the pressure of setting the standard for me as far as Fringe productions go - but if I'm going on this show, I'm going to have a great Fringe!

And so I go back to the emails....