2016 Edinburgh Fringe Show #28
Lost in Blue
Debs Newbold
One woman stands before us and on-the-spot creates an
incredible sound track of effects to accompany the solo telling of her
multi-layered, multi-character story that entices and grips with its mysteries,
memories, and magic. Debs Newbold, both
writer and performer of Lost in Blue,
is nothing short of astounding in her abilities to hold an audience in rapt
attention every second of the ninety minutes with a tale of a family still
dealing fifteen years later with the aftermath of a father’s car accident. Her story bounces us between deep inside the
dreaming mind of the father’s otherwise non-responding body and on the still
body’s outside where his eighteen-year-old daughter has taken on the impossible
mission to use her own artistry to bring her artist dad back to life.
Even as she switches voices and persona from Annie the
daughter to Sarah the Mom, Candy the Aunt to Leonard the neighbor, Debs Newbold
is continuously creating and then replaying the sounds of a life-giving
ventilator, cooing pigeons, a leaky roof, or seemingly dozens other
effects. She is also taking us inside the
mind of Annie’s dad, Paul, as he lives in his own protracted dream inside
Vincent Van Gogh’s famous house in Arles, there with the master himself.
As her story unfolds, there are mother-daughter conflicts
that appear at times unresolvable, an eighteenth birthday party that turns into
a disaster, daughter discoveries about the artist within her, and a daughter’s
guilt about how she may have at three years old contributed to her dad’s
accident. There is also a beautiful
theme of a blossoming, loving father-daughter relationship that forms after a fifteen-year
separation – a relationship where only the daughter is conscious of what is
happening, or so she thinks. All of
these storylines and many more are told in a non-stop repertoire by a master
teller and special effects artist extraordinaire.
Rating: 5 E
******
2016 Edinburgh Fringe Show #29
Letters to Windsor
House
Louise Mothersole and Rebecca Biscuit
Summerhall
At 467 Peach in Woodbury Downs, Louise and Rebecca live in a
flat they describe as “what it lacks in visuals, it makes up in scents.” There, they are awakened each morning at 7
a.m. through the paper-thin walls by the thunderous hip-hop music blasting from
the guys below them (to which they respond with trumpet, trombone, and mad
stomping) while also hearing the lady above them sweep her floor ever so
“tenderly.”
In this transitioning neighborhood where the homeless camp
in streets and parks, only to be moved by the construction of million-pound
condos, the roomies live in one of the remaining, run-down council houses
(public housing) built almost fifty years prior. And their abode is crammed packed with boxes
and boxes stacked high of mail they receive daily from former residents long
gone – mail they have felt obligated to keep in case the rightful owners some
day show up looking for it.
Louise Mothersole and Rebecca Biscuit of Sh!t Theatre perform
the world premiere of Letters to Windsor
House, created by them in conjunction with Camden People’s Theatre. In white face with stripes over their eyes –
a bit like criminals on the prowl – they unfold a wild and wooly tale of their
decision to start opening the thousands of pieces of mail (Is it legal?) and then
to re-construct the lives of the rightful recipients based on the envelopes’
contents. There’s JD O’Hanley whom they
are sure has a serious tax debt issue and Saad Madras with a penchant for
gambling gone amuk. Both get crazy songs
and dance routines created for them by the two mail cat-thieves.
But the person they get to know most and begin to worry
about his well-being is Rob Jewek, who gets lots of mail about baby milk. After rocking out in hilarious screaming that
“Rob Jewek is an Adult Baby,” they go on a mission to find the real Rob and to
be sure he is not depressed and about to jump off some bridge. We share this ever-zooier journey with them,
following along via the videos the two have created and are constantly showing
on the screen behind the stacks of boxes and a couple of old, tattered chairs.
On that same screen, we also get ongoing glimpses of their
neighborhood that is fast undergoing gentrification for the newly rich and simultaneous
decimation of long-time, neighborhood businesses; run-down homes; and yes,
places for street people to live in their boxes and tents. The messages they want us to discern about
such government-blessed changes are crystal clear even though the two
mail-intruders spend most of their time with us telling, singing, dancing, and
raving about their discoveries via others’ opened mail. (There are also time-outs when they appear as
red mailboxes to discuss their own up-and-down, but very close relationship as
roomies and friends.)
The overall performance is brilliantly conceived and
presented. Louise and Rebecca’s Letters to Windsor House is brimming
with off-the-wall humor, genuine heart, and not-so-subtle messages of social
and political importance – the last equally relevant to London, Paris, New
York, San Francisco, or scores of other cities around the globe.
Rating: 5 E
******
2016 Edinburgh Fringe Show #30
Bubble Shmeisis
Summerhall
Standing before us in terry-cloth robe and a long, cotton wrap
down to his bare feet, Nick Cassenbaum begins his Bubble Shmeisis (Yiddish for grandmother’s story or tall tale) by
inviting us to take longs breaths in and out, something we will be asked to
repeat several times during the upcoming hour.
In between our collective moments of calm, Nick takes us along as he recounts
going with his aged grandfather, Papa Allen, to the last, remaining schvitz haus (“sweat house” or bath
house) in East London. Once there, in a
sea of wrinkled, Jewish men many decades older than he, Nick tells us how he
totally unrobed and got schmeised (washed
with a large, horse-haired brush and soap) by one of them – something he
reenacts for us but in this case, by a selected audience member closely
matching the appropriate age of one of the alter
cockers.
But along the way, Nick also reminisces with us about his
upbringing, Jewish and otherwise – summer camp, barbershops, a trip to soccer
game with his dad (where he got no treats or souvenirs). His memory even goes back to the first time
he got to compare his schmok to a
friend’s schmok at school while they
both peed in a trough, at which time he discovered “what makes my schmok different from all other schmoks.” To his horror, he realized that he had less
than his non-Jewish pal, who had something “like a piece of loose bacon”
wrapped around his to make it longer.
Accompanying his bubblescheisis
throughout are clarinetist John Macnaughton and accordion-master Tom Baker,
who sound off in kletzmer and Broadway manners alike. As the show’s director, Danny Braverman has
orchestrated Nick’s performance, clearly with a little tongue-in-cheek at
times.
With much humor and a conversational manner as if talking to
his new, best friends (that’s us), Nick Cassenbaum entertains with his stories
and educates about near-extinct, Jewish bathhouses. But equally important, he also provides an
intimate, heart-warming look at how he discovered that day in the Canning Town
Schvitz what is important to him about who he is and what he wants to pass on
someday to his kids and grandkids. And
that leaves everyone smiling and even kvelling
for him as they leave the small theatre.
Rating: 4 E
Photo by Gence Barbar
******
2016 Edinburgh Fringe Show #31
In Fidelity
Rob Drummond
How can one see almost thirty-five shows at the Edinburgh
Fringe Festival and not see one complete turkey? The inevitable finally happened for me in
Show #31, even at the revered and consistently reliable Traverse Theatre. So bad (in my opinion) is this world
premiere, that I would have left a few minutes into it; but my and my husband’s
seats were positioned such that we would have not only disturbed the entire
packed-to-the-gills audience, but would likely have been pulled onto the set
and into the abominable show.
Well-known Scottish playwright and actor, Rob Drummond,
brings his newest work to the Fringe, created in conjunction with High Tide and
Traverse Theatre. Touted as a gift to
his wife for their fifteenth anniversary (maybe he should have gone with the
traditional choice of crystal?), In
Fidelity is nothing more than a live reality show ... and a bad one, at
that. (Full confession: I hate reality TV, which I refuse to watch or
follow; so how can I be unbiased about this new show?)
Audience members who are single get to volunteer to be on
stage to whittle several volunteers down to two whom Rob judges to be most
compatible. Those two are then the focus
for the next hour or so to see if they could possibly be a permanent pair (or
at least a one-time date). The two are subjected
to increasingly personal questions about themselves and their love-life
preferences (but with always the option not to answer anything they do not want
to reveal), to reading the script of a play, to having unscripted conversations
with each other in front of a full audience, and other inane (and I pick the
word purposefully) assignments given them by Rob the host.
And, to make matters worse, Rob spices the entire proceeding
with his own thoughts and research about love (and his own experience of
creating an online dating persona). He
also asks questions of the audience like “What is your definition of love? To my horror, a number eagerly volunteer to answer
him with serious, syrupy-sweet answers -- including a twenty-something guy sitting
next to me who by this point, seems to be really emotionally caught up in this
contrived mess!
As if this show could not be more atrocious, the three initial
volunteers the day I stumbled mistakenly into the arena are two sisters and a
bi-sexual man. (Rob was very
disappointed there were only three; I think he normally gets twice that
many.) Now, everyone already knows that the
two sisters cannot be the final two participants, or we would have possible
incest. (Mr. Nice Guy, Rob Drummond, certainly
is not about to go there.) So, the
contest becomes which of the two, single sisters is going to be tested,
interviewed, and put in total embarrassing spotlight with Mr. Bi-Man for over
an hour to see if the audience and the lucky pair themselves will elect that
they should go on a real date. To make matters
worse, the final two are soon taking this seriously and often also taking
(especially the guy) a L-O-N-G time to think about and answer the questions
posed to them now by not only Rob, but also by audience members.
(Kill me now, please.)
What really pissed me off the most -- and frankly scared me a lot -- is
how much most everyone but me and my hubby were clearly into this whole eighty
minutes of pure torture and how loudly and enthusiastically most of them
applauded at the end (with the young guy next to me quickly jumping to his feet
for his own standing ovation!).
So, maybe I am just a weird or cynical guy and the one
person in all the world that hates anything that looks like reality TV being produced
by a legitimate company like Traverse as live theatre. Having said that, I can in no way with good
conscience recommend anyone go see In
Fidelity (unless live dating games involving random people off the street placed
in the starring roles is your thing).
Rating: 1 E
******
2016 Edinburgh Fringe Show #31
Milk
Ross Dunsmore
Traverse Theatre
Three couples who are at very different stages in their lives
and their relationships all come to realize that while food for varying reasons
is a key concern and focus for them, the real milk for life’s sustenance is
love. That realization comes to each
with some very difficult choices and sacrifices, and crises of conscience come
into bear at some point for at least one member of each couple as the meaning
of true, unconditional love becomes finally clear. Traverse Theatre premieres as part of the 2016
Edinburgh Fringe Festival the first full-length play, Milk, by actor and
writer, Ross Dunsmore. This initial
outing, directed by the company’s Artistic Director Orla O’Louglin, at times
brings smiles and draws big laughs, at times elicits gasps and an impulse to
look away, and at times ensures more than a few tears are trickling down
audience cheeks.
With both a birth and a death playing major roles in the play’s
stories, Milk spans and touches epic-size
themes by focusing on the day-to-day details of the three couples, often
dealing something about food. Cyril and
May are an elderly couple holding out in a building condemned for destruction
with no heat, no food, no light; but they have each other and memories stretching
back to World War II, which May says, “You won the war ... for me ... You’re my
hero.” Tam Dean Burn and Ann Louise Ross
both give touching, heart-wrenching performances as their story intertwines
with the other two. When May dances with
Tam her last dance in life to “You’ll Never Know Just How Much I Love You,” our
hearts break almost as much as his.
Their love is life itself, and it is that love that leads Cyril to take
an action that jeopardizes his own life’s well-being.
On the other end of the age spectrum, Helen Mallon and Cristian
Ortega are teens Steph and Ash who are big buds, with Ash clearly wanting -- even
demanding -- much more. Steph is bold,
brassy, and even crass in her attempts to get Ash to do more than concentrate
on his PERi-PERi chicken from Nando’s.
Ash is not sure he is ready and tries to joke, make nice, and just be
pals. Steph’s hormones are clearly
bubbling over, and she is pushing for much more. Both actors are superb in putting the issues
of teens in lust, in love, in like and in between – and being totally confused
by it all.
Steph’s teacher, Danny, is where she turns for some possible
relieving of her need for love and attention.
Trouble is, Danny is twice her age; she is under-age; and Danny has his
own issues with a wife who has just had a baby that she now refuses to feed
because her nipples are bleeding. Ryan
Fletcher as Danny is sex-hungry and sex-deprived while his wife is in final
pregnancy and not interested. Once she has given birth, Melody Grove as Nicole
freaks out that the one thing she most wanted to do as a mother -- provide her
baby life’s sustenance through her breasts -- is impossible for her to do. Refusing to allow Ryan near her or the baby
leads to a relationship crisis that provides both actors great opportunities to
shine in their skills.
Further intersections of the three stories occur in Ross
Dunsmore’s script, offering both more life-threatening crises as well as
life-affirming resolutions. Fred Meller
has designed a large, rectangular platform/table that centers the stage,
complete with doors that open to support the different couples’ stories and to
offer magical avenues for needed refuge or escape. His high-tech design is greatly defined and
enhanced by vertical strips of light that cross the back stage that Philip
Gladwell has designed to combine with other lighting to highlight the different
and intertwining scenes as well as the moods within them. Danny Krass pulls everything together with a
sound design that fits the wide range of ages and the subject matter of love
and life.
Milk at times becomes
a bit jolting in its back-and-forth stories, sometimes leaving one a bit too
soon before there is understanding clearly of what is happening and
particularly, why. But overall, the
direction is flawless in ensuring that the sum of the parts is greater than any
of them separately. What sustains us in
life becomes evident by stepping back and taking in the total of the difficult
journeys these six undergo, journeys made all the clearer and richer in meaning
by stellar performances all.
Rating: 4 E
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