5 Star Reviews in 2007

21 August 2007

Moths Ate My Doctor Who Scarf

Three Weeks

As long as you've heard of Cybermen... actually, ignore that. Even if you've never heard of Cybermen, this show is still fucking funny. Toby Hadoke has an almost autistic knowledge and devotion to his favourite TV show, combined with an incredible ability with language and a natural charm. Similes shoot expertly from his mouth, like gunfire from a Special Weapons Dalek in 1998's 'Remembrance Of The Daleks' (staring Sylvester McCoy - thank you Wikipedia!). Can Dr Who really save us from the modern day evils of the BNP, Daily Mail and Big-Brother-winner-turned-stand-up-comedian Kate Lawler? That's the kind of hero I want to see. [Gemma Scott]

20 August 2007

The Mother's Bones

Metro

By Tina Jackson - Monday, August 20, 2007

This is a rare, unafraid and hauntingly beautiful piece of physical theatre. It's breathtaking to witness how Kath Burlinson shows the way a body holds and expresses emotion. In this solo show, the co-founder of Weird Sisters weaves a magic that veers between lightness and dark as she inhabits three characters in a tale that has the mythic elements of a fairy story and the heart-rending dimensions of tragedy.

Speaking a strange, non-verbal language that feels alien yet strips meaning to its essence, Burlinson is in turns a grandmother with a penchant for mischief, a mother whose daughter is all the more precious to her because of her babies who died, and the daughter who journeys to the underworld.

On an almost bare stage, with a haunting intermittent soundtrack, Burlinson uses her body to tell stories that are about the most profound – and hard to articulate – human emotions: pain, loss, love.

It is astonishing to see Burlinson's liquid transformation between each person, almost as if she is being possessed by them. Even more captivating, she is completely believable as each; her presence is extraordinary, whether she's the witch-like crone, the mother ripped apart with grief as she searches in the darkest places for her missing child, or the daughter experiencing the extremes of ecstasy and demonic possession.

Until Aug 26, Underbelly (V61), 1.15pm.

19 August 2007

Hamell On Trial - The Terrorism (Of Everyday Life)

Three Weeks

This is not another edgy Fringe comedy. No, Hamell takes edgy on in the first minutes of the show, and then leaves it way behind with a song about oral sex, followed, without missing a beat, with a song about sickness, death and suicide in his own family. Not many performers could turn this material into ragingly funny comedy and rock; he takes on politics, family truth, religion and death with angry passion, bitingly caustic wit and a 'face solo' that quite simply defies words. All this and he still comes out with hope. The man may well be a genius. Obscene, outrageous and brilliant.

Fuerzabruta

Fresh Air FM

The warning for this show reads …"Some adult material, strobe lighting, pyrotechnics, water spray and dust." On arriving at the Black Tent we were therefore excited, if a bit apprehensive. The minute you walk through from the bar, into the dimly lit, spacious tent you realise the show is going to be a unique experience.

The audience stands looking around trying to decipher where the stage will be. Then lights shine, huge fans blast and a man is walking on a 'treadmill' into white light. So the brute force begins.

The show stimulates and preys on all the senses; a bombardment of acrobatics, dance, colours, action and aggression follows. This is a must see show, it is the most exhilarating show at this year’s festival and, dare I say it, great value for money.

-KPG

Tom Tom Club

Fresh Air FM

Many people of the 'older generation' tend to associate "beatboxing" and "drumming" with the kind of thing mislead youths might get up to in their spare time, when they're not taking drugs or committing petty crime. They're wrong - and even a middle-aged, conservative, broadsheet-reading, hip-hop hating granddad could be converted by the Tom Tom Club.

The talent on display in this show really is incredible. Looking around the audience on any night, you can see gleeful smiles and utterances of disbelief as the seven performers demonstrate their various talents, showing old and young alike (it's an exciting show for kids, too) that talent, energy and enthusiasm can create a brilliant spectacle. The pace, bass and involvement really makes the hour an exciting one.

Aside from the incredible skills of the performers, the show itself is neatly constructed - varied, exciting and very fast - showing off their various talents without overusing any of them. There's even a pogo-stick, and a cover song played on an 'OmniChord'. If you don't know what that is, go and find out. If you do know what that is, go and see it in action.

-Tim Johns

17 August 2007

Umbrella Birds: WC

Three Weeks

You know your next show is going to be something really special when Mark Watson leads you to your seat at the back of a block of port-a-loos. And when the chaos begins you quickly realise that this epitomises what the Fringe is all about; a four-woman sketch show set within the confines of these tiny toilets, filled with more creativity and originality than you'd see over a whole night in the Pleasance Courtyard. The show proceeds at a blistering pace, allowing the immensely talented cast to squeeze in countless hilarious sketches without a weak minute in sight. If you manage to get tickets, then this is one of the shows that you will remember long after the Festival is over.

16 August 2007

Steve Williams - Binge Thinking

Fest

There are a faithful few who have long held the conviction that the valleys of Wales are swathed in much more comedy gold than a few sheep and a son of his own granddad could ever account for. Thankfully, after years of irrefutable evidence to the contrary, Steve Williams has proven his lauders correct and come of age as one of Britain’s best stand-up performers.

This much is true, but the fact still remains that out there, on the loose, is a stone deaf auditioner for the Underbelly and an agent even Barry from Eastenders would lose patience with. Together, these men have conspired to limit Williams’ immense talent to a 50-seater ironing-board cupboard on the Cowgate. Still, I suppose he’ll get to play to a packed house every night.

Williams is immediately at ease in the intimate space he has been granted, ballsing up the PA announcement and shattering the ridiculous illusion of the stand-up intro as if he were down the pub with a few mates. In the first five minutes he ticks all the boxes of any reviewer’s wish list: effortless audience interaction, inventive and adaptable use of his material and some of the best natural improvisation you will see at the Fringe this year.

In an hour filled with a constant torrent of laughter, Williams never strays far from the hilariously absurd: Churchill trying to sell a holiday in Europe to his army, a six-man team of Frank Spencer impersonators and a sullen dolphin concerned about his accent problem: “I’m Welsh? How can this be? I took all the precautions.”

God knows why Williams is reduced to playing such a pathetic venue, but perhaps it’s not such a bad thing because next year you’ll be digging out your granny’s opera glasses before you head off to see him.

Greedy

Fringe Review

Low Down

Nothing is too silly or strange for the Greedy treatment.

Review

It’s not just the clever writing and killer jokes that make this a must see show, this quartet of talented actors bring the sketches to life with superb physical comedy skills. Fun, silly and totally hilarious, the audience was in constant stitches.

The physicality is superbly subtle and sometimes the basis for an entire sketch. From utter stillness to mimed percussion I laughed as much in the silences as after the punchlines.

With minimal set and props, at times the space seemed too big for them. A raised stage was needed to make full effect of the dance sequence on the floor as the audience was straining their necks so as not to miss any laughs.

A fun and original show that’s full of surprises. Greedy will leave you chuckling to yourself long after you’ve left the theatre.

Reviewed by CC 08/08/2007

15 August 2007

Dogfight

Three Weeks

Dogfight is a play of a very high pedigree. This slice of suburban Americana is played out in the homes and village council meetings of Black Hill, a white picket fence every-town in Middle America. Residents' squabbling over their pets masks deeper themes like the pressure of success and the complex psychological politics of these tight-knit towns. The real enjoyment of this play was watching these 'normal' people turn rabid. This fast-paced production was brilliantly acted - the short scenes could have been a hindrance, but the rapid changeover process actually added to the experience and the writing was sharp enough to keep the characters just the right side of cheesy. If the Fringe were Crufts this play would definitely deserve a rosette.

Bridget Christie - The Court Of King Charles II

The Herald

When the 35-year-old mum of one from Gloucester was devising this seventeenth-century royalist comedy hour, securing a spooky venue that does a passable impersonation of the Tower of London might have seemed too good to be true. So Bridget can barely contain her delight performing in one of the latest rooms to be reclaimed from the bowels of Edinburgh's Old Town: somehow staging it in a badly-ventilated portable building in a car park would not have been quite as suited to Restoration stand-up.

Christie greets the audience as herself, but in House of Stuart attire, before returning as the Merrie Monarch, who ruminates on ancient and modern matters such as speed dating: "Why take just three minutes to get a wife when it can take a lifetime to get rid of her?" She attacks a wide range of subjects with assured enthusiasm, careering through the centuries with joyous aplomb.

Charles II is joined by our first terrorist, Guy Fawkes, played as a Scouse scally "Penny for the Guy" figure. Whether Osama bin Laden will be remembered on his own special day 400 years from now is a provocatively humorous question. A vicious comic spin is imagining American children pleading for a dime for the Bin. Christie plays Oliver Cromwell as a Welshman even more repressed than Little Britain's Daffyd, but still manages to work in a bit of flatulence-based audience participation.

Returning as Bridget, she glories in the horrors of honeymooning in Shetland. In December.

A revolutionary redefining of character comedy.

Jim Jeffries - 30

The List

A visceral and shockingly funny diatribe You may consider yourself not easily offended. You may feel that nothing shocks you, and that there is nothing left to say that is truly controversial or distasteful. If this is the case consider yourself well and truly wrong. Since his appearance at the Fringe last year Jim Jeffries has turned 30, had a tumour removed from his most favoured of body parts and been attacked on stage in Manchester, an incident that not only provided valuable material, but thanks to some canny use of YouTube has in part ensured his profile is higher than ever.

As the show starts he wanders amiably to the front of the stage with an innocuous manner that belies what you are about to hear. Beginning with a recent family bereavement and moving through childhood anecdotes, paedophilia and the aforementioned cancer scare, he finishes off with a blow by blow account (complete with video footage) of the assault. Through all of this, Jeffries’ humour borders on the visceral, but you can’t write him off as simply a shock merchant; anyone can be gratuitously offensive but Jeffries never forgets that his prime task is to make us laugh.

By his own admission he’s not a genius and isn’t trying to change the world but his willingness to offend combined with an openness of character makes him one of the most gratifyingly riotous comedians working today. So dig deep into your own moral turpitude and revel in each depth that is plumbed and each tear of laughter that peels your incredulous face as you check with your companion that yes, he did just say that.

Reginald D Hunter - F**k You In The Age of Consequ

Hairline

After last year's Pride, Prejudice, and Nigger, Reginald D. Hunter is back on the Fringe with another selling-out show, this time entitled "F**ck You in the Age of Consequence".

The comedian uses the same features that have made him so successful in previous years, namely his honesty towards the use of language, his foreign (American) take on British culture and, of course, his very opinionated criticism of sexism and racism. All of this is delivered with so much intelligence and sharp, thoughtful remarks, that it is a challenge not to burst out laughing (sometimes hysterically) at least twice during this brilliantly organised show, structured like an A+ essay – self-referential jokes included.

The first part of the show, however, sounds a bit too forced; Hunter makes sure he shocks and shakes the audience with over-crude and over-done language and situations. But then, his real comedic skills resurface, reaching absolutely delightful moments. With an exceptional sensibility, the comedian manipulates the audience's feeling through his (supposedly) real life-based stories, where he uses relatives and ex-girlfriends as examples of the absurdities surfacing in contemporary Britain.

Using widely shared stereotypes or his recent understanding of Eastenders, Hunter's genius is to base his stories on life and encounters, turning his stage persona into an approachable person saying out loud what everybody thinks; he does not pretend to be smarter than anyone, good-willingly admitting his flaws to show things the way they are, eventually bringing the audience to consider their own stereotypes. There is no excuse to miss this show.

14 August 2007

Silent Disco - Visual Galaxy

one4review

Silent Disco is far and away the best fun you can have with headphones on. Or off. Or on again.

The principle is as follows: on arriving at the venue you will be given a set of headphones through which two DJs are broadcasting two different sets through the two different channels. Stick them on your bonce, get on the dancefloor and dance the night away.

It’s a bit of a weird feeling at first, being surrounded by people who are wandering along like zombies, lost in their own little world of dance. However you soon get used to it and begin flicking away between the two channels to hear how varied the sets are. It’s great fun to watch people either dance all as one on the same channel or completely at odds with each other. If you’re on the packed dance floor take a moment to lift off the headphones and take a look around, as it’s a bizarre sight seeing everyone jumping about and waving their hands in the air when there’s absolutely no music filling the main hall. A little like the lunatics have escaped the asylum.

Fears that it may be anti-social spending the night with headphones clapped round your lugs are soon dispersed. Everyone is marvelling at the sheer genius of the concept and spend the night with a look of sheer happiness on their faces, encouraging a really positive, joyful atmosphere, where you can sit down next to anyone and ask them ‘how mad is this?’

I was only going to stay for a while, but got utterly swept along by the music, the atmosphere and the wonderful sight of people having a thoroughly good time. Get together some mates, grab your glowsticks and get down to Silent Disco as soon as you can. You won’t be disappointed.

Aeneas Faversham Returns

British Theatre Guide

I really don't know where to start with this review. This show was funny. I know that's something one always hopes to hear when hearing about sketch comedy, but it's so true in this case that it bears repeating:

Aeneas Faversham Returns was so funny I was glad I wasn't wearing eyeliner when I went to see it, because by the end of these delightful 55 minutes it would have been smeared all over my face from tears of laughter.

From the word go, the Penny Dreadfuls have put together a new series of Victorian-era sketches that play on our expectations of the era to bring genre comedy to a whole new level.

Without detracting from the surprises the Penny Dreadfuls have cooked up, it's tough to say much about the individual sketches. Highlights include sketches which use words such as: Susan, Creep, Invisible, Blood-spatter, and Blood-spatter. That's about as much as I dare say for fear of detracting from your enjoyment of the show.

Aeneas Faversham Returns is already selling out regularly. Book your ticket and go, before you miss your chance. They are one of the best value-for-money experiences on the Fringe and if you're a clever person who likes clever humour, you will kick yourself for missing them.

Rachel Lynn Brody

Branko & Branka - The Croatian Magic Sensation

Broadway Baby

This is what the Edinburgh Fringe is all about. Husband and wife magic sensation, Branko and Branka join us direct from Croatia. Bursting with enthusiasm they tell us, through popular magic routines, their life story which has been ravaged by war, the magic of David Copperfield and golden plutonium. Camp but closeted Branko is a bully to his poor devoted wife Branka and refuses to consummate their marriage until Croatia is part of the 'European Onion'! Their's is a rather warped world which makes for a perversely enjoyable hour. David Blaine they are not. They are more a cross between Borat and something from a Carry On movie.

The comic timing and characterisation from these two highly skilled actors Rob Sutton and Alex Frances is impeccable. The blatant kitsch humour becomes so shameless that you find yourself gasping for the next double entendre. It is a show that is deliciously silly and will suit all ages.[Kevin Stevens]

Maxwells Fullmooners

The Herald

Andrew Maxwell's late-night comedy cabaret is now as much of an institution on the Fringe as it is at the Comedy Store in London, where the club is a year-round refuge for hedonistic howlers. In 150 minutes you get the host, three guest acts plus regulars ZooNation, Sir Tim FitzHigham and Lady Carol, which adds up to an old-school Fringe night out.

Maxwell created the Mooners concept after tiring of racing round various venues doing guest spots himself, and his caustic charm is central to it. You can guarantee a quality line-up because comics embrace the concept as eagerly as the sell-out crowds, and the likes of Reginald D Hunter, Pete Firman, Carey Marx and J J Whitehead are more than happy to come and bay at the moon after delivering a punchline. (A big blue one is helpfully projected on to the back of the stage just so audience members don't miss their cue.) A hip-hop fan since he was a nipper, Andrew clearly loves having the breakdancing skills of ZooNation providing an energetic interlude from the stand-up, almost as much as bossing Sir Tim's quasi-aristocratic persona around the venue.

Most dazzling of all is Lady Carol, an oasis of crystal calm in the midst of this lupine lunacy, with 1940s Hollywood starlet looks and a voice that will convince you Nirvana songs were clearly written with ukulele accompaniment in mind.

An odds-on favourite in the traditional Fringe gambling stakes.

Reginald D Hunter - F**k You In The Age of Consequ

one4review

It's amazing what a few years can make in the world of Comedy. It was on his first visit to the festival that both Sheila and I were being asked to review him almost daily.

Now Reggie is a really hot ticket and the man certainly deserves the following he has built up. Hunter now resident in the UK, originates from the Deep South of America, and at times his accent is quite strong, making one listen very hard, but do so for the guy has the amazing quality of being very funny while getting across the message.

Never shy of the decisions he makes in the titles of his previous shows Reggie talks of the consequences he has suffered as a result of them, the consequences of religion, sexual consequences and the resulting problems that occurred due to his film preferences.

Hunter has the amazing gift of crossing all divides, sex, race religion, ages and like a segment of his show about using your tools, he is obviously using his as a comedy genius.

Reginald D Hunter - F**k You In The Age of Consequ

Fest

Reginald D Hunter has the best voice in the world. It's deep, booming and chock full of old southern charm. Being in the critical mindset of the Edinburgh Festival, and so working entirely in star ratings, it's a five-star voice. Working in quotable soundbites, it's "the best voice you'll hear this festival." Working in... you understand.

Hunter opened last year's set with the following phrase: "Sheet, man. What the fuck are we doin' in this big upside-down mutha-fuckin' cow." Not great, not witty, but everyone laughed. A lot. Even me. That's how good his voice is. I hoped he might say it again this year. I'd have laughed again.

All of this is to say that Hunter is unquestionably the most charismatic comedian on the Fringe. It is frankly impossible to not be caught hanging on every word he says. Luckily, most of it is great stand-up fodder. His routine is a brilliant observation of his own family and friends, one that is not bizarre or inherently messed up but imperfect and slightly embarrassing, one that is familiar. He speaks with a warmth and fondness that translates excellently to the more absurd situations which Hunter trades off, in particular his fantastically ill-interpreted conversations with his dad about sex.

He is particularly strong when running dangerously close to the border of acceptability on misogyny and Jewish stereotyping, without being at all misogynistic or anti-semitic, just very funny. His stuff on race is slightly weaker, if only because we've heard it all before. But The Voice makes it funny.

Hunter is mesmerising throughout, dealing with the lamest "helpful" heckle imaginable (talking about Blaxplotation films, someone in the crowd shouts "Like Shaft!" "Don't worry," quips Hunter, "if I ever get stuck I'll be thinking 'where's that drunk, bald mutha-fucker'") gently but hilariously. His finale is perhaps the highlight, tying up all loose ends and previous topics into a punchline that truly pushes the boundaries of good taste. This is great stuff.

The Container

Fest

As the audience is led to the back of the Spiegel Tent, the sound of running engines gradually becomes clearer. Guided into the dark and noisy hold of a cargo lorry, the few audience members sit themselves down on the upturned plastic crates that line each wall, and begin to accustom their eyes to the dark.

What follows is a harrowing account of the illegal journey of five refugees trying to reach England. The stories of the individuals are gradually revealed as the action unfolds at the feet of the audience. The claustrophobic setting forces those watching to share - to a limited extent - the experience of these characters locked in a steel box.

The action is illuminated by the performers themselves, who provide the seemingly sporadic but effective stage lighting. Pointing hand-held torches at each other and around the space, the cast even - on occasion - flash the light directly into the faces of wide-eyed members of the audience. The space, lights and atmosphere only help to highlight the impressive ambition and talent of the people involved in putting this show together, further aided by the powerful script from writer Clare Bayley.

Most memorable, however, is the high standard of acting displayed by the cast. Not distracted by the close vicinity of the audience or awkward spatial arrangements, the five actors, including a young girl, are so exceptionally convincing in their roles that their sad and varied stories become almost unbearably uncomfortable to watch.

The Container is a show that will restore anyone’s faith in the Fringe as a place where quality theatre can be viewed, thoughts can be provoked, and memories can be forged.

Moths Ate My Doctor Who Scarf

British Theatre Guide

I was truly surprised at how much this show affected me. I went in expecting something jovial and lighthearted, much of which I probably wouldn't get - only having found my way to the Whoverse with the premiere of Russell T Davies' new series.

Instead, I found myself profoundly moved by Hadoke's tale of being a childhood geek obsessed with an imaginary universe which seemed to hold the answers to all life's problems. This expertly-constructed show begins when Hadoke's father leaves his family and follows through to Hadoke's own experience of bonding with his son over the new series of Who.

It is a warm, gentle, and utterly hysterical look into the life of someone for whom sci-fi has truly made the world a better place, and Hadoke does an expert job in spreading a bit of the doctor's positivity and joy to his audience. Along the way, he also gives neophytes a basic primer in the workings of the dedicated Dr Who fan.

12 August 2007

Richard Herring - Oh f**ck, I'm 40!

Chortle

Richard Herring is a 40-year-old middle-class man who’s dodged the responsibility of a wife, children or a career in a sensible job in favour of the flippant field of comedy, where he can act as if he’s a perpetual teenager, despite the overwhelming physical evidence the contrary.

His experience is far from unique. We live in a society where everybody wants to be 21, whether you’re actually younger or a lot, lot, lot older than that. A generation ago, as Herring notes, most 40-year-olds would be pillars of the community, with teenage children and grown-up hobbies beyond owning a skateboard, a Wii and an impressive CD collection.

But Herring mostly avoids making too many wider points about this in a show that is largely about his own failings and inadequacies. He can’t fight, hates kids and lusts after inappropriately young women – it’s not a very sympathetic figure he cuts. Yet he delivers it all so openly, and with his usual cheeky charm, that you remain on his side. Quite how long that cheek remains cute and not creepy is just another aspect of aging he frets over.

There are a handful of long, borderline over-long, routines that illustrate his mid-life uselessness. One mocks the trendy T-shirts and their inappropriate slogans he sometimes buys. It seems an easy target but he gets the laughs by being wilfully pedantic and literal about what they say, to a comically ridiculous extreme. Another tells of an inept fist fight he became embroiled in, which serves to illustrate how pathetic his life can be. A third demonstrates how talking dirty during sex can go horribly wrong, if you really don’t know what you’re doing.

The material is often quite disgusting, but tempered by its confessional side. Herring knows how to tell a story and delights in pushing things as far as he dare, and then a little more. If he has any doubts he has that being puerile and offensive on stage every night is no way for a middle-aged man to behave, he manages to put them to one side for an hour. And that’s OK, the show’s not as introspective as you might expect.

His writing is as smart and effective as always. Who else can call society itself a ‘whorish coquette’, and actually make it sound a reasonable conclusion. The show feels in need of a more robust structure or big payoff to elevate it above a simple but entertaining collection of self-deprecating anecdotes, but it’s still comes with a generous share of laughs.

Reviewed by: Steve Bennett

Hattie Hayridge

Herald

Ed Hamell's life has been flashing before his eyes since he suffered a near-fatal car crash at the turn of the century, after which he reconstructed himself as a motor-mouthed, comedic, acoustic, punk-metal one-man band. The Terrorism of Everyday Life tackles his story chronologically, starting in 1964 with the Beatles arriving in the US, when he was aged 10; this is an explosive biographical hour.

Loaded with finely honed anecdotes punctuated by machine-gun bursts of relevant songs, Hamell unerringly hits the target. His only musical weapon is a 1937 acoustic Gibson guitar, eulogised in the bittersweet paen to hire-purchase agreement, Three Ships.

We are transported to the gents' toilet in the Knitting Factory in New York City, which doubled as a changing room when he was previewing this show earlier in the year; we share in the tale of a homophobe who overcame his prejudice to get high on the ashes of a friend of a friend who died from Aids; and there's a deathbed scene funnier than a whole series of Six Feet Under. His spoof commercial for a fast-food joint - The Trough - would be light relief were it not such a vicious indictment of western dietary habits, while the whole room singing "**** it" could well be the most cathartic experience for a Fringe audience.

Pathos without sentiment and comment without compromise. This is a performer at his peak.

Jerry Sadowitz - Comedian, Magician, Psychopath

Metro

Forget poncy Bond villains, evil geniuses really do exist. There's one at the Fringe; he's in a giant inflatable upside down purple cow and disguised as a frizzy-haired Glaswegian with, erm, issues.

Scratch that, Jerry Sadowitz isn't disguised as anything. It would be comforting to think the tirading, foul-mouthed, hateful, manic little man onstage was a persona, but then Sadowitz doesn't do comforting.

What he does do is cutting-edge, hilarious and insightful social commentary. As the majority of the Fringe tiptoes around the ongoing news story concerning Madeleine McCann, Sadowitz stomps all over the potential minefield – and it's as dazzling as his incredible sleight of hand magic tricks shown up-close on a huge TV screen.

'Are you a f**king journalist, ya f**king c**t?' he growls at a bloke in the front row, his invective not lessening one iota when he discovers the unfortunate man isn't. It's almost worse; he's American.

Loads of comics boast a disregard for sacred cows, taboos and boundaries; here is a genuine misanthrope. There's a general consensus for what the worst word in the English language is and it starts with a C. Sadowitz is one. Yet, it doesn't matter because he's also one of the funniest comedians, most talented magicians, and biggest potential psychopaths you're ever going to have the honour of watching.

Jerry Sadowitz - Comedian, Magician, Psychopath

Herald

"I'm not paranoid," declares Sadowitz to an audience who have just been swept along on a veritable tsunami of bitterly incisive invective and battered by a powerful arsenal of card and coin tricks. "But you all think I am." That encapsulates Jerry's relationship with his audience. In slightly startling scenes outside after the show, he is signing autographs and politely declining to have his picture taken, maintaining he simply does not photograph well. One particularly insistent fan literally gets in his face by attempting to force his head to look at her camera, a discourtesy dismissed with polite aplomb.

Not what you would expect from a comedian with a routine that viciously surfs the flooding of Gloucester while making some incontrovertibly salient points on the subject, and being brilliantly bilious about Doherty, Moss and Mills.

His audience clearly want to be outraged, the disgust that used to mark the reaction to Sadowitz's more extreme observations replaced with vicarious glee. The amazing conjuror is particularly pleased with the big screen behing him, giving the crowd a close-up view of a torrent of tricks, all of which make the seemingly impossible a matter of fact.

He suggests this might be the closest he will get to being back on television, although the inspired alternative of being abducted by Iraqis and using his hostage broadcast as an audition is worth the admission alone.

Colin Somerville

Tom Tom Club

Three Weeks

Mixing genres and hoping everyone likes the result is risky business. But these guys have the magic touch. There's gymnastics, drumming, break-dancing and (courtesy of their own resident DJ) a soundtrack of hip-hop, drums, drum'n'bass and even a Japanese electric harp. One act involves using a performer's voice and a loop pedal to record a dance mix - live. Fans of urban music will love it, and even if this is not normally your scene, it will be by the end. These are pros, but still natural and informal. Even where the acts are rough around the edges it only adds to the charm. This is not sterilised physical theatre, this is circus for the 21st Century - clowning around, just without the actual clowns.

Peter Speight

Tony Lee - XXX, Aggressive Comedy Hypnosis

Three Weeks

For many a hypnotism show may raise some doubts, but Tony Lee kicks all the worries quickly aside. As volunteers are called up from the audience, the fun atmosphere sets in and you begin to relax. Of course, in this domain the show depends a lot on the audience members who get up onstage, though there always seems to be enough people willing to do the weird stuff once under the hypnotist's spell. We watch Lee's volunteers experience the highs and the lows of human emotion. As they scream out their biggest orgasm ever, there's a feeling deep down that this is wrong, but, for the life of you, you can't stop laughing. And no, I wasn't hypnotised.

Ruth Offord

11 August 2007

Debbie Does Dallas - The Musical!

Three Weeks

With tongue placed firmly in cheek (among other places) and innuendos set to rapid-fire, the cast of 'Debbie Does Dallas' danced, sang and shagged their way through a truly pleasurable show. The idea of turning a 70s porn film into a musical seems a little strange, even for the Fringe, but what an idea it was. Telling the story of a young, blonde and (of course) busty cheerleader who will do anything to live her dream of cheering for Dallas, the show goes through song after song of suggestive, and at times just downright explicit lyrics ('I Wanna Do Debbie' being one of the subtler numbers). A talented cast created some hilarious characters, and frequently had the audience in stitches. Hugely, if unexpectedly, entertaining.

E4 Udderbelly's Pasture, 2-27 Aug (not 13, 20), 5:45pm (7:00pm), prices vary, fpp 184.

Greedy

Three Weeks

Phew! What is there to say? After being given five stars by this very publication last year, the heat was on. I started to make notes. I gave up. I started to try and count the number of sketches. I gave up. I then moved onto the different styles. I gave up. I gave up and gave in to ‘Greedy’. With sketches too abundant to list (a superb dance-off sticks in the mind), exceptional performances and direction tighter than a Sumo wrestler’s thong, ‘Greedy’ is dizzying. Attempting so many ideas and jokes can lead to quality dissipating, but the talented ensemble ensure that this never happens. Greedy for laughter, the audience left ecstatic and the ‘Greedy’ troupe left satisfied.

Underbelly, 2 - 26 Aug (not 14), 5:00pm (5:55pm),

Carey Marx: Sincerity Aside

one4review

I first became aware of the name Carey Marx two Fringes ago via his appearance on one of the lunchtime 'Best of ' shows and was most impressed with what I saw. The man has a wicked sense of humour and his laid back style of delivery was right up my street.

His show last year, entitled, 88 was visited twice, the second due to a technical failure on the first visit and these reinforced my opinion of him as a star in waiting.

The only technical aid Marx uses this year is his oh so cute teddy bear Parsnip, who is used to counteract some of his master's occasional 'off' jokes, due to the smaller than norm crowd he even shunned the use of a mic!!

What he did though was to pack his set with new gags, he informs us that there are 120 jokes in is hour set, you certainly get value for money with Carey, and he had all of his audience laughing out loud at virtually all of his material.

Marx deserves praise for the effort and the number of laughs he gave to his select crowd and I'd love to see him with the packed houses he richly deserves.

Tom Tom Club

one4review

I wouldn’t be surprised if, come the end of August, the members of The Tom Tom Club simply collapse in a heap upon the floor. They promise a good show and they deliver it through some of the most energetic and awe-inspiring performances I’ve seen thus far.

The show itself is a mix of amazing acrobatics, dramatic drumming and brilliant beat-boxing. It’s never too far from your mind that these performers are risking life and limb as they fly through the air. The possibility that something could go wrong at any time means that you watch this show with you heart thumping away in your mouth. In addition, the beat-boxing ability of member Tom Thumb inspired marvel at the variety and range of sounds the human body can make. Nowhere was this more clear in a section entitled man vs. machine.

The music and drumming keep this show ticking along at a frenetic pace and before you know it you’re being ushered out into the bright daylight, adrenaline pumping and hands aching from clapping so hard. This is definitely a must-see show.

Fuerzabruta

Hairline

In 1635 a Spanish writer, Calderon De La Barca wrote a comedy about free will and fate, and how free will creates nothing but whatever you decide, never sticking to rules, conventions of pre-set ideas. This year’s Fringe brings one of the most innovative, thought-provoking and engaging shows in recent years, Fuerzabruta, a show by the Argentinian group De La Guarda, and one that would very well embody the themes and ideas that De La Barca wrote four centuries ago.

De La Guarda define their act as a show that ‘doesn’t have a purpose’, that just ‘is’, and that’s very much the feeling that emanates when watching it. You are not meant to be looking for meanings or hidden messages, you are just meant to enjoy a unique piece of art. As Fuerzabruta is not just a play or a show, Fuerzabruta is art.

Based on a massive tent right besides the Ocean Terminal, Fuerzabruta pieces together different routines that are not interlinked, but where, each one of them, brings the audience into a new state of awe and stupefaction. Either by having some of the actors run through walls, dancing on the walls or swimming in a gigantic swimming pool that is dangled about the public’s heads, Fuerzabruta becomes pure joy and excitement.

Fuerzabruta trespasses the limits of the impossible and gives Calderon De La Barca’s famous phrase ‘For all life is a dream, and dreams are nothing but dreams’ a new definition. With Fuerzabruta all dreams are not nothing but dreams. For all life is a dream, and dreams are nothing but Fuerzabruta.

Psychic Detective (and those disappeared)

Fringe Review

Low Down
Innovative film-noir style performance mixing live action and video in benchtours own stage truck

Review
This production playing twice daily in Benchtours own stage-truck hidden away behind the Speigeltent and Udderbelly continues Benchtours love affair with all things film-noir.

Over the past years I've enjoyed the way this stalwart of the Scottish touring scene has played with the idea of translating cinema genres for the stage and this production is no exception.

It tells the story a private investigator in Sugartown who one night is beaten within an inch of his life and thrown into the sea. Into the picture come two angels who invade his subconscious in the last moments between life and death and lead him through a dream-like series of events that he must see through to the finish if he is to live. Why? - well you have to go along to find out and don;t expect all the answers as this is the first in a series of pieces that are 'to be continued'

The genius of this piece is the combination of live action and video sequences. The audience (max 20) sit in one part of the truck and watch the action unfold through at the rear of the truck. which is serpated from us by a wall and window. A blind is opened and closed allowing us to view the story through the window as voyeurs. Video is projected onto the closed blind and the wall surrounding the window giving a hypnotic quality to the performances.

Brilliant

Reviewed by JG 8th August 2007

Fuerzabruta

skinnyfest

This is a show so different and wonderful, "it's like trying to describe a colour"

Wednesday 08 August by Michael Collins

Fuerzabruta is without a doubt the most hyped-up show of this year's Festival, with adverts plastered on nearly every possible wall, publication and webpage. If you've been unaware of the Black Tent sitting opposite Leith’s Ocean Terminal, you might well have been comatose for the past month. Waiting by the bar in the foyer before being led into the performance arena there is a tension in the audience, a nervous excitement: nearly everyone has heard something about what Fuerzabruta is, always premised by “it’s kind of…” No one really knows what is going to happen, but the anticipation electrifies the atmosphere.

As everyone trickles out an hour later, there is a palpable sense of bemusement as the audience try to come to terms with what they have just seen and express it in words. This is a show that is almost impossible to describe; as a friend said outside “it's like trying to describe a colour.” Even couching it in comparative terms does not provide an adequate description. There is no use for Hume’s principle of the ‘different shade of blue’: Fuerzabruta is something that must be experienced.

This is hardly surprising given that the company claims its objective is “to break intellectual submission of the language [sic],” to create “a space where the pressure of the senses affect the mind.” Fuerzabruta does not ask you to understand, it asks you to experience, to become part of the performance. It defies categorisation because it has no raison d’etre: as the performers themselves state, “Fuerzabruta doesn’t have a purpose. It is.”

Once within the all-standing, blacked-out performance space, attendees are led around by ushers. Almost instantly, the audience is parted as a white-suited man enters on a giant treadmill, dodging chairs, tables and people that come hurtling towards him before he crashes through stacked confetti-filled boxes.

When a foil sheet is drawn around the auditorium to make a billowing wall with two girls running around it, or when two people scramble on either side of what seems like a spinning sail, Fuerzabruta becomes like a finely tuned, technical circus. Moments when a giant transparent water-filled pool containing semi-naked girls is lowered above audience’s head become explorations into light and space, rather than a simple performance.

Fuerzabruta is an all consuming sensory experience; a soundtrack that could fill the dance floor of any nightclub accompanies the performance, complete with strobe light overload. Indeed the unabashed hedonism of Fuerzabruta bears much in common with clubbing culture: rather than projecting the visuals onto a wall above the DJ they surround and absorb the audience. At moments the performance becomes a rave complete with DJ booth, the cast descending amongst the onlookers as crazed dancers.

But does Fuerzabruta live up to its hype? Undoubtedly. You will not see anything else like this at the Festival this year, or maybe even next. Although it lacks an obvious narrative, the amalgamation of performance and visual art, dance and acrobatics and light and sound creates an overwhelming sensory overload. Fuerzabruta is a show which offers little explanation of its motives, nor profound insight into the human condition, but exists as an experience and a memory that will take a long time to fade in the minds of those who have seen it. It may be the most expensive thing you see at the Festival but it promises to be the most exciting, enthralling and unforgettable £25 you have spent in a long time.

Debbie Does Dallas - The Musical!

Broadway Baby

Based on the famous 1970's porn flick of the same name (but with less sex and more satire), small-town girl Debbie Benton dreams of making it as a cheerleader (and marine biologist) in the big city, but the only way she can get there is for her and her girlfriends to raise some money by offering sexual favours to their employers.

Debbie parodies the film beautifully, although you don't have to have seen it to recognise the clichés. It was first seen in 2002 on the New York Fringe, created by Susan L. Schwartz, with musical numbers replacing the sex scenes.

The comedy is sharp and delivered perfectly by the talented cast. These guys know their timing, clearly aided also by excellent direction. It's also worth making special mention of the choreography, as the dance routines are more high-octane than a workout video.

This British premiere of Debbie is incredibly slick. It's laced with sexual innuendo and double entendre, set to wickedly funny bubble-gum songs that the cast deliver with great energy. Surely a West End production is on the cards?

10 August 2007

Fuerzabruta

Metro

A man is running on a treadmill that extends through the newly reopened Roundhouse where the audience is standing.

Faster and faster he runs, yet he is getting nowhere. People and objects from his life speed past him. Suddenly he collapses, shot in the chest. Then he gets up and starts again.

This is the opening image of Fuerzabruta, the new show by an offshoot of the gravity-defying Argentinian company De La Guarda.

As expected, it's an aerial spectacular of technical daring and acrobatic beauty that thrives on sensation, risk and, most importantly, the adrenaline and release of the crowd.

A recurring theme is that of people chasing something that is always just beyond their grasp. Sometimes this is sexually charged: one sensual moment features a man, swinging below a small suspended swimming pool, chasing a woman contained on the other side of the glass.

This is repeated on a larger scale later, when an enormous, transparent swimming pool descends to just above the the audience, teasing us into trying to catch the women who slide like exploding lotus flowers in the water just above.

What elevates Fuerzabruta beyond the anodyne professionalism of slicker, technically perfect outfits such as Cirque du Soleil is their visceral celebration of human fearlessness.

This is a show high on the smell of sweat and danger, in which the crowd is frequently faced with the possibility that the performers' pursuit of the seemingly impossible knows no bounds.

It would be hard to argue that such an embrace of pure sensation is much more than primal, sensory techno-theatre. Yet the apocalyptic imagery, the sarcastic send-up of the corporate treadmill, the lively wit and the dependence on the response of the audience elevates Fuerzabruta's visual fantasia into something moving and essential.

8 August 2007

Early Edition

one4review

This show is the ideal way to start your Fringe day - coffee or tea (admittedly tepid) and croissants in the company of Marcus Brigstocke, Andre Vincent and Friends. Their Friends for the day I saw the show, in fact their opening day, were Robin Ince and Ian Stone. After being fed and watered, the audience were treated to a fun session of banter, repartee and satire using that day’s issues of the newspapers as the springboard for the ensuing humour. Amazing to this Scot, put four Englishmen together and, although united in humour, they very quickly divided into class divisions, Brigstocke and Ince represented the middle class, the former making the correction of being upper, whilst Stone and Vincent represented the working class. All manner of topics were covered with great hilarity - belly laugh stuff - contradictory medical advice, sheep racing in Uist, Jeremy Clarkson, monks in China who can’t claim reincarnation without having the proper certificate and, almost inevitably, Princess Di.

This is one of the must see shows during the Fringe. Also, watch out for a little cameo from Phil Jupitus.

Hamell On Trial - The Terrorism (Of Everyday Life)

The Herald

Ed Hamell's life has been flashing before his eyes since he suffered a near-fatal car crash at the turn of the century, after which he reconstructed himself as a motor-mouthed, comedic, acoustic, punk-metal one-man band. The Terrorism of Everyday Life tackles his story chronologically, starting in 1964 with the Beatles arriving in the US, when he was aged 10; this is an explosive biographical hour.

Loaded with finely honed anecdotes punctuated by machine-gun bursts of relevant songs, Hamell unerringly hits the target. His only musical weapon is a 1937 acoustic Gibson guitar, eulogised in the bittersweet paen to hire-purchase agreement, Three Ships.

We are transported to the gents' toilet in the Knitting Factory in New York City, which doubled as a changing room when he was previewing this show earlier in the year; we share in the tale of a homophobe who overcame his prejudice to get high on the ashes of a friend of a friend who died from Aids; and there's a deathbed scene funnier than a whole series of Six Feet Under. His spoof commercial for a fast-food joint - The Trough - would be light relief were it not such a vicious indictment of western dietary habits, while the whole room singing "**** it" could well be the most cathartic experience for a Fringe audience.

Pathos without sentiment and comment without compromise. This is a performer at his peak.

6 August 2007

Aeneas Faversham Returns

Three Weeks

Arguably the most stylish show on the Fringe, ‘Aeneas Faversham Returns’ provides inspired comedy to rival even the high profile names around today. Set entirely in the Victorian era, this show cannot fail to impress - be that by the script, the charismatic performances, or surely in the case of anyone who has a funny bone, both. The range of sketches demonstrates unrivalled imagination, spanning from the surreally clever to the quite simply hilarious. Every character provides cause for laughter, and the lack of props is testament to the chameleon-like abilities of the four actors. Impeccable comic timing ensures that no gag goes astray, and every facial expression adds delight to a cleverly scripted and focused show. Simply unmissable.

Philippa Campbell

3 August 2007

Aeneas Faversham Returns

Fringe Review

Welcome to the world of Aeneas Faversham, The Penny Dreadfuls' James Bond-like Victorian creation; an opportunity for a fine sketch show that had us in fits of laughter.

The Penny Dreadfuls, back in Edinburgh after success last year, comprise Jamie Anderson, Humphrey Ker, David Reed and Thom Tuck: four talented, versatile and consistently funny performers who took to the Belly Button stage in their sketch comedy show "Aeneas Faversham Returns". I don't want to tell you a thing about any of the sketches for fear of spoiling the many surprises in this laugh-every-few-seconds tour-de farce.

From the fabulous opening death scene (whoops) to the side-splitting, Oscar-worthy take on "The Invisible Man" (whoops, there I go again), this is character comedy at its finest, with no small amount of physical knockabout thrown in for good measure. It's sharply written, the commitment of the performers is huge and there's an often hard-to-find combination of strong material and excellent delivery. This is a talented troupe. The writing is eloquent, it doesn't fall into obscure surrealism, it's strongly acted comedy theatre, full of direct, accessible and top-notch sketch-punchline humour.

Theatrically, it's a masterclass from a fairly young cast, who were clearly enjoying themselves as much as we were in the audience. We're taken into shadowy nineteenth century streets, moody drawing rooms, and esoteric secret meeting places, as this funny four demonstrate brilliant timing, interplay and stage togetherness. To enjoy it, you'll have to enter willingly into this world of 19th Century light and shadow. You'll have to allow bearded men to play women. By the end, we were happy to allow these chaps anything, as long as they remained on the stage.

The audience loved the show from start to finish. If I have one gripe (it is a regular one for me) it is this: not all of the punch lines were as punchy as the excellent sketches that preceded them. It can be hard to come up with punchy endings to pieces this good and several sketches ended on punch lines that... lacked punch. But that really is a minor gripe in a show I'd see again in order to catch some of the many physical and verbal one-liners I probably missed in a five star gem at this year's Edinburgh Fringe.

Reviewed by PL

Navigation

Sponsors/media partners