Edinburgh Fringe 2017 – Day 1
4 shows. No duds. Good start.
Fruit Machine (Jacob Hawley)
First show was a mate’s show, so while I’m not going to try particularly hard to review it objectively (not least because this is work-in-progress material and he isn’t actively looking for reviews yet), I would still go so far as to say that I’ve seen Jacob perform every year since he graduated, and his confidence as a stand-up is going from strength to strength. This is bouncy, accessible material performed with a mischievous sparkle in his eye: Jacob is a performer who genuinely likes his audience, and wants them in on the joke. Catch him for free every day at 12.15pm at the Laughing Horse @ The Pear Tree; and in the final of the BBC New Comedy Award this Sunday.
Lula del Ray (Manual Cinema)
This one sold itself on reputation alone after Manual Cinema achieved near-mythical status last year with their sold-out show Ada/Ava (which I missed). Exactly as their name suggests, the company’s shows are, essentially, feature-length films with all the epic cinematography of a sprawling, big-budget movie; but produced manually, live on stage, through extraordinarily accomplished shadow puppetry. Its precision and craft is absolutely exquisite, and the ensemble creates an atmosphere of wonder and mystery which does indeed earn their mythical reputation. But of course, the film isn’t the show: the show is the making of the film, and to that end it ran out of steam halfway through once we had learned all of the tricks — so, although the film (and, therefore, the narrative) continued to function on-screen, on the stage below the show began to lose its theatricality once it stopped surprising us, and a disconnect opened up between the dramaturgy of the product (the projected film) and the dramaturgy of its construction. Add to that the relatively slow pace of the story itself, the low-tempo and low-pitched dirginess of the (albeit, lovely) live music score, not to mention the darkness, and many in the audience (myself included) were struggling to stay awake. Not through lack of trying, mind you; this is after all a show of great deftness and craft, and I would have liked to have seen every moment. — 3/5
Playing at Underbelly Med Quad until 28 August.
A Show that Gambles on the Future (Mark Thomas)
Mark Thomas is another I’ve never actually seen but know through reputation (mostly because he keeps taking my colleague Sam Beale out to Palestine to teach stand-up comedy — by all accounts, amazing work). A Show that Gambles on the Future is powerful, heartfelt and extremely funny political comedy, weaving together stories from Thomas’ childhood about his dad (having lost my father last month this struck a bittersweet chord), a formidable perspective on current affairs (there’s some material on Theresa May’s kitten heels that says what we’re all thinking, including her) and some poignant philosophy on precedents and outcomes; ultimately inviting us to make a solid prediction for the future and gamble money on it. Exactly who gets the money if the prediction comes true (Jeremy Corbyn for prime minister within 2 years was our winner) was a bit ambiguous — “I’m still trying to think of a cause that’ll really piss off the establishment”. Despite the show’s relatively free-form structure as Thomas probes and responds to suggestions from the audience, he has an uncanny ability to steer the conversation back to his material and to leap on opportunities to bring out some impressive, and hilarious, set pieces — including a mile-a-minute rant about how things “are not getting better”. Maybe, but this show is shot through with a sense of hope that suggests otherwise. — 4/5
Playing at Summerhall until 27 August.
All We Ever Wanted Was Everything (Middle Child)
This is gig theatre grappling with the big lie Generation Y grew up with: that we can have anything we want, if we work hard enough. This it delves into with impressive exuberance and musicality, intertwining the stories of a boy and a girl, one privileged, one working class, born on the same day and raised by single parents; visited every ten years from 1987 to 2017. There are some big ideas in here, and the show slightly over-reaches — ambitiously tying a very simple boy-doesn’t-meet-girl story to apocalyptic themes which it doesn’t quite have the power and drive to carry. There are a couple of moments where it jarringly slips into direct political address, including an incongruous sequence where the narrator appears in a Trump mask; political positing that is far beyond the story they are trying to tell, and a (already tenuous) connection the audience should be left to make for themselves if they choose. The final moments, too, make a direct demand of the audience that it hasn’t quite earned the right to make. I’m a fan of an ambiguous ending, and there’s a beautiful moment near the end — not unlike the closing image of Black Mirror’s ‘Nosedive’ episode — that would have served the style of the show much better. But this isn’t my show to edit, and this is a cast very much in command of their abilities and owning every inch of their stage. All We Ever Wanted Was Everything has a real tenderness and yearning to it, undercut by a visceral energy and anger that rings totally true; although it stops short of explaining why, or what we might do about it. — 4/5
Playing at Summerhall until 27 August.
