Just The Tonic at the Mash House
Aug 21-26 (18:25)
Material: Delivery: Laughs:
Is Sid Singh the Silicon King? To find out, I reccomend checking out his solo show, American Bot, where this, & many other questions shall be answered. Sid smilingly takes to the stage and immediately gets down to setting the rules straight. Our comedian is an Asian-American who is living the American dream in San Francisco…. or is he? As Sid traverses the many highs and lows of the economic and digital world we live in, I revelled in his storytelling, which remains funny despite coming from a serious angle, & catapults us into the murky depths of globilization through the companies that control the daily lifes of all humanity. Silicon Valley plays host to Facebook, Google, Youtube, Air BnB, and Sid does not like it!
American Bot is educational and informing, direct and truthful, & with a sprinkling of funny innuendos there is room for laughter beyond reason. There are not many topics that fail to get Sid’s blood boiling. Sharing some of his own personal expericences that he has encountered , we are soon traveling through subjects that seem dear to us all. Diversity, race, religion, gender, equality, colour, money, status, racisim, power, women, men, hate, love… the list is endless. This is a show you must take with a pinch of salt, but also one with many a hidden message. A show that encourages change but also allows us to see the funny side of life. What is a day without laughter when everything seems so serious around us and Sid captures this perfectly. If we dont speak up then we will lose our voices and and I cannot see Sid Singh losing his any time soon. His American Bot has some clever points, but with his twists of silliness you leave with a sense understanding that life should, of course be serious, but better when enjoyed with a sense of joviality.
As I watched the two members of La Barca dei Soli perform their clown routines, I found my spirit soar along its past lives to medieval towns, to a provincial child staring wide-eyed with glee at a pair of touring Provençal street entertainers. La Barca have hit the seam, the tradition is with them, they are Jedis of the clowning art. Their Yoda is, unsurprisingly, Philippe Gaulier, & to see La Barca perform is to witness the genius of Monsieur Gaulier, whose fussy eye has helped in the development of the show.
Goodbye…I’m Leaving is the ultimate comedic skit on the Don Quixote/Sancho Panza archetypes, stuffed full of myriad ingredients which have infused themselves into the Clowning tradition. Our two performers are the wiry, classically exuberant Claudio Del Toro (Italy) and eye-brimming Armando Gonzalez (Mexico), the former a Basil Fawlty, the latter ‘Papa Guinea;’ a naughty, precocious, mischievous child in a grown man’s body.
Their show consists of an expositive exploration of the nuances & combinations surrounding a single piece of dialogue/performance; & as we follow this impressive education in clowning, the amusement levels go through the roof. Repetition can be hilarious, especially in the hands of such consummate mastery, when laughter feels like obedience, but absolutely delighted to be thus compelled. The show is on at an awkward hour – midnight – but if you are anywhere near the Caves at that time, I beg you to see this show before it leaves Edinburgh. Trust me, La Barca could keep making up variations on their show until the candle burns down, & then keep doing it in the dark, & we’d still be laughing.
The first thing that struck me about this show was the sheer level of energy. Our two performers were utterly fearless and, after a slightly wayward Fringe weekend on my own part, rather more than a little intimidating. Initially, the tsunami of said performance energy made it hard to warm to ‘Cassandra Hunt’ & ‘Cynthia Murphy,’ but I eventually started to relax into things, albeit with the ever-present fear they were going to rope me into one of their skits.
Two Faced Bitchin’ is essentially a sketch show with several different double acts all played out by the same two performers; with the common thread of a home shopping channel they kept returning to. My personal favorite was the Victorian Revivalist pair consisting of a man in a period dress and a woman in some kind of lace burka and a mouth-guard that made most of her speech incomprehensible. They were certainly very skilled and confident performers, with my main reservations coming from the material which at times seemed a little bit on-the-nose and excessively silly. However, it was when this silliness exploded into the downright surreal, slightly embarrassing and somewhat disturbing that I felt the show was at it’s best, & it was in these moments that the few personal belly laughs I did churn up came gushing forth. Not to say that the rest of the audience didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves. Everybody seemed to be having a whale of a time and it was in the aforementioned more peculiar moments that I seemed to be the only one laughing. Maybe the fault was not with the performers but with my own warped sense of humor.
I guess that’s just the kind of guy I am & what I’m saying is, if you’re going to do silly go all-out and make no attempt to water it down with any kind of logic or narrative thread. But then, judging by the audience reaction, that is not the prevailing opinion. In conclusion, my advice is to go and see this show, & you will probably love it, & it’s also nice to see someone punting a little bit of vinyl for a change.
Not only does Abbie Murphy’s solo show have the best title on the Fringe, but it is rapidly gaining the best rep. I mean, the City Cafe’s Las Vegas Room might not be the biggest venue at the Fringe, but the effect of seeing the audience queue snaking into every crevice of the City Cafe basement based on word of mouth is exciting. So in we went, & folk were forced to sit on the floor & lap around the walls, leaving about six square feet of space for Abbie & her massive Aztec showgirl head-dress to strut her stuff. It was so intimate, it felt like we were Slavic peasants sat down around a single oil-lantern for light & warmth & that Abbie was that very candle.
So, the show itself. Abbie is a cheeky Essex girl, whose 32 years sit her sweetly on the cusp between youth & middle-age, which is reflected in the universality of her comedy. We were all laughing, but quite strangely at different times, picked off by her punchline sniper rifle. As Abbie frollicked almost machine-like through her down-to-earth & snappy delivery, it felt like we were one of her girlfriends who she’d met down Ilford to do some shopping one afternoon; & we’d decided to hit a bar for a beer, a giggle & a catch-up.
The central section of her show deals with her time as a showgirl on a cruise liner, a gentle & natural anecdotal ride which surpasses most story-themed comedy shows that come to the Fringe. As for the rest, it was varied in subject, but always funny, even the Jesus material near the end, the seventh time I’d witnessed a comedian touch such material so far in 2018… but Murphy’s was definitely the best.
The only problem for me as a spectator was the venue. In this instance Abbie is a five-star comedian in a two-star venue – cramped & stuffy – & for this reason a lot of the laughter was held back by the audience. Watching Abbie in a large auditorium with decent air conditioning would have been a much superior experience, so lets hope it does happen because Abbie definitely has the talent to pull off a much larger gig.
Just The Tonic at the Grassmarket Centre August 21-26 (22.00)
Material: Delivery: Laughs:
For those who like their comedy with hyacinths & biscuits – i.e. sweet & crunchy – Pop Ditz is the only choice. Directed by burgeoningly brilliant Lucy Bairstow (Theatre with Legs) & performed with chainless precision by Pernilla Holland, let us take a look at 21st century urbanity through the eyes of a young Norwegian lady, far from her one-reindeer village; the caged bird set free in ‘the land of Eng’ to observe, & then report her vulgar findings with a tremolo of energetic delivery.
The show itself consists of a fun-sustaining sequence of ubersketches, played out between witty, not-that-well-sung songs. It was all very revelatory & original, as if some secret comedy pond had been stumbled across by the ladies one night, from which they are hooking slightly mutated, but extremely delicious fish. Continuing with the water theme, experiencing Pernilla’s flow of near-gibberish is akin to having a water-feature attached to one’s psyche, from which our smiles bubble up constantly. Pernilla’s own smile, by the way, is the widest one I’ve seen on any performer at the Fringe that I can recall.
Imagine entering a thick-walled tavern beyond the Arctic Circle, where red-nosed, akvavit-addl’d Norwegians are making funnies around a hot fire, laughter looping through the smoke… that’s experiencing Pop Ditz. There’s some absoultely mental moments; using her shoe for a chat with an audience member just one of them, while the Scandinoir sequence made for uncanny comedy. ‘No words are better than silence,’ repeats Pernilla, ‘except the singing goat,’ & as my eyes grew wider & wider throughout my 50 minutes with this classic 21st century clown, I could only nod my head in complete & awestruck agreement.
Laughing Horse @ The Counting House
August 21-26 (16:00)
Material: Delivery: Laughs:
Daniel Muggleton appears on stage like some Alexandrine statue, Callimachus perhaps, & beacause of the smart confidence to his delivery emits the same sagely energy. He is an Australian living in London, & this is his third Fringe in a row. Daniel has a really easy vibe, & at the commencement of his show, as he chatted with every party in the room, he reminded me of a recycling truck which visits the street house-by-house, emptying the blue & red plastic boxes of all that Fringe junk, & leaving our mental vestibules fresh for more comedy.
Mr Muggleton is no cavalry charger, but as his libertine mind gondaliers through his material, he does appear happiest taking the subtle piss out of anyone & anything, including himself. Along the way we are treated to a contemporizing tour of his personal zeitgeist; Brexit, Tube Travel, potentially imminent fatherhood, racism – all of which varied in quality, but was entertaining enough. I must admit the ‘vagina voodoo shit‘ of his finale-tale held a pre-eminent fascination.
It was towards the end when he began chatting to a fellow Aussie about the alternate colloquial understandings of the word ‘dogging’ that I had a wee epiphany. When Mr Muggleton interacts with the audience, the room lights up, you can feel the warmth, & its a genuinely great place to be. My instinct tells me that if Daniel can weave a show where his jokes bounce off the audience interactions, a rainbow may sunder the sky along which path should lie his comedy gold.
The Vancouver Fringe is rising rapidly on the horizon, & impeccable wordsmith Rob Gee is, well, geeing himself up for his gigs, big time…
Hello Rob, so where ya from & where ya at, geographically speaking? Rob: Raised in Derby, Living in Leicester, currently in Calgary.
Why comedy, what is it about being funny in front of other people that makes you tick? Rob: I’ve always liked entertaining folk since I was king Herod in the school nativity. And the sound of a bunch of people laughing is lovely. Also, I sometimes talk about some pretty rough subjects in my shows, so it comes down to that thing George Bernard Shaw said about how if you’re going to tell people the truth, you’d better make them laugh or they’ll kill you.
You’re also a dab hand with a quill. Can you tell us about your poetry? Rob: Anyway, basically I do stand up poetry, which is a bit like stand up comedy, but it rhymes and there’s no jokes in it. I used to do loads of poetry slams too. One of the reasons I’m looking forward to returning to Vancouver is its fantastic slam scene.
You’ve shared stages with numerous personalities & luminaries; who have been your top 3 & why? Rob: Sue Townsend, who wrote the Adrian Mole diaries. She was a really interesting speaker and her books are hilarious. Tony Benn, old school Labour MP. He was a delight. Dick Fish, who sings for punk band the Subhumans. I grew up on punk rock, particularly the anarcho stuff, so Dick was a childhood hero. I gigged with his band, Citizen Fish, once or twice in the 90s, and then he started doing spoken word, so I gigged with him a bit more. He’s lovely and he always spoke to me like we were mates. I was all awestruck and dithery, but it didn’t seem to phase him.
You’ve got three famous figures from history coming round for dinner. Who would they be & what would you cook; starter, mains & dessert? Rob: It would have to be the three wise men, surely? They’d be pretty interesting conversation with a few beers in them. Actually, maybe two wise men and a translator. I’m not a very cook, but I live in Leicester and there’s a lovely South Indian place near me. We’d go there.
You’re bringing a show to this year’s Vancouver Fringe, can you tell us about it? Rob: It’s a murder mystery set on an Alzheimer’s ward. I was a psych nurse for a number of years and I also love murder mysteries. There was also a lot I wanted to say about dementia. So it’s funny, with the occasional moving bit.
What’s the difference between a Canadian audience & a British? Rob: I can only speak in terms of Fringe festivals, because they’re the only Canadian audiences I tend to do. Generally speaking, Canadian audiences tend to be a lot bigger, because their Fringes are better – the whole model is different. This leads to more questions than answers, I know. You’ll just have to take my word for it. Also, Canadian Fringe audiences are orientated more towards theatre, whereas UK Fringe audiences (particularly in Edinburgh) tend to be more focused towards comedy. In terms of what they laugh at though, it’s actually very similar.
What is the creative process behind writing your comedic material? Rob: It starts with the idea that makes you giggle, or at least ignites something happy in the old grey matter. Once that happens, I then I like to write many pages of drivel which, several drafts later, I then use to I bore the people around me. Then it’ll do a scratch performance in a pub near where I live, and then it’ll do a tiny Fringe festival somewhere I lick the beast into shape. And then it’s ready!
What are the key ingredients to your style? Rob: I like lots of light and lots of dark. And it goes in and out of rhyme. And it’s both kinds of funny.
You have twenty seconds to sell the show to someone you are flyering in the streets of Vancouver – what would you say? Rob: It’s like Clue meets Memento. (That allows a few seconds in case they’ve not heard of Memento, then I can refer them to Google…)
You’ve got to love The Establishment, who dwell somewhere in the realms beyond bonkers, but are also as surefire as twin torpedoes streaking towards the hulls of all our seriousness. Yes, the Fringe & the Establishment are perfect bosom-buddies, for watching their supreme joviality makes you feel like you are finally at the festival properly. This is what its all about. This is comedy.
The theme of this year is a timewarpin’ whirl through British history, sandwiched either side by a Clockwise-Cleesian headteacher who ‘loves’ his ‘fuc£in’ school.’ He is soon joined by a colleague, ‘Mr Foster,’ & together the two proceed to combine their talents for the rest of the show’s swimmingly fashioned imaginarium. Each scene from history floats easily upon the bantertastic sea of silliness supplied by The Establishment; Cavemen, Romans, Vikings, & so on – all the major motifs are given the treatment, & embellished with colourful costumes. Attention-grabbing from beginning to end, Fool Britannia is, as I hinted at before, the quintessence of what should be happening at the Fringe.
As the charm-emanating Bryony Twydle steps onto her stage, one feels an instantaneous attraction as we morph into an acolyte at the temple of her muse. A completely full house saw her tripping the light fantastic with an assortment of characters, opening with the vivacious & laughter-grabbing QVC star Lisa Martinez Moore. From this point her characters varied in quality, but all the masks fit, & there were some very interesting threads of continuity rare in sketch shows. To all this I must add that her audience participation is on another level, she’s very good at it, as testified by the willingness of those summoned to the stage, even when her sex therapist character, Ulva, was holding a brutally honest session.
This is Bryony’s debut Edinburgh show, & as I watched the bonnie bundles of fun that constitute her work, I envisioned her as something of a bagpiper. Both go solo, both play a variety of tunes/sketches of about the same length, & both artforms are fiendishly difficult to master. Yet Bryony has, & with youth on her side I can only see her going from strength to strength.
The Mumble love to see the baton of inspiration being passed along to the next generation. Last year, best friends Max Levine and Anna Piper gorged on the Edinburgh Fringe, & this year they’ve returned with their spanking new debut. The Mumble went to check out them out…
INTERVIEW
Hello Max, so where are you both from and where ya at, geographically speaking? MAX: I’m Nottingham born and bred. Home of Robin Hood, lace and the world’s oldest pub… although to be fair I think every city in England claims to have the world’s oldest pub and other places probably have ones that smell less like sick. Anna’s from Birmingham which becomes very audible as soon as she experiences any heightened emotion.
You both met at Soho Young Company, what is it? MAX: It’s a programme you apply for and then if you get in Soho Theatre get you to do all these great workshops with total legends like Richard Gadd and other intimidatingly good people. Anna and I met doing some stand up workshops and we soon found out we were both hating performing on our own to rooms of three old white guys so teamed up. It’s been hot platonic love ever since.
You are bringing a show to this year’s Fringe, can you tell us about it? MAX: Can I? I CAN! At the time of printing Anna and I are best friends and have been for a couple of years. I’m fully obsessed with her lifestyle choices e.g. she has seven cats. We spend so much time together that we started to film ourselves hanging out. And from that footage we came up with ideas for sketches. Did I mention she has SEVEN CATS? Seven. It’s too many cats.
How did you get the idea behind the show? ANNA: We got the idea at last year’s Fringe when we were up as punters cramming in 8 shows a day. We loved the weird and wonderful sketches we saw but found ourselves wondering where the ideas came from. In our show we give you that peek behind the curtain – or in Max’s case a blanket suspended from some crocodile clips on a pole in his bedroom, he calls it a ‘life hack’ and it looks awful.
Which part of your show is your favourite? ANNA: There’s a bit in the show when I have a breakdown on stage, and ugly cry. Its always fun to do, and often very cathartic. I don’t really get to see the audience until the very end, sometimes they’re laughing and others look a bit worried for me. But either way I’m fine guys…honestly.
What was it like performing in the London Eye? MAX: It was great fun. It lends itself to so many jokes – “If you feel uncomfortable please feel free to leave at any time”, “If we run over they’ve said it’s not a problem but we will have to do another full rotation”. The big bosses at the eye asked us to do an hour of Ferris Wheel based material…I think we managed five. The rest was Teresa May impressions, puns about London Landmarks, and selfies. Needless to say, it was a hoot.
There’s a sketch in the show about Max’s Spanish teacher outing him, is that true? ANNA: Surprisingly yes, I think his mum only told him a year or so ago and he when he relayed it to me I was like “I know this sounds like quite a traumatic revelation about your burgeoning sexuality in your teenage years…but can we make it a sketch”. We may have exaggerated the tale slightly for dramatic effect but like any good real crime drama, it’s based on a true story.
You’ve got 20 seconds to sell the show in the street… ANNA: Two best friends filmed themselves for a year. From that footage they give you their funniest sketch ideas, and a peek at their intense friendship. A show by Bezzie mates for Bezzie mates.
REVIEW
Material: Delivery: Laughs:
The word on the street was that there were some hip new sketch artists in town, so off I trotted to the Caves to check out if the rumors were true. Happily they were, for Hot Mess possess a show into which has pour’d the pandora’s box of their mutually inspired imaginations, uncorked into performance for us all. I love the fact that Max & Anna – the best mates behind Bezzies – were up at the comedy boarding school that is the Fringe last year, ‘cramming in 8 shows a day.‘ Twelve months later they are back, with a first year dissertation lets say, so what have they got?
For a start they do offer unique material, a cool wee archipelago of fertile greenery in the vasty seas of sketch comedy. They open on a nightclub floor, dancing to their own voiceover thoughts, introducing immediately that they are multi-media millennials & are happy to utilise technology. This schema is soon expanded upon; we live in an instagramic age, where everything is recorded, & thus a portion of this year’s show contains footage – whether staged or not – of them actually brainstorming the show.
The sketches varied in quality & impact – from cutting-edge observational hilarity to asinine incest stuff – but the performance was always completely pleasurable to watch. Max & Anna share this windy, interchangeable energy, & watching best friends at work on a performance level is always a particularly fine watch. There is also an undercurrent of didacticism going on, for their sketches are designed to raise topics of thought, & then make fun of them, like the role of toxic masculinity in society for example.
This is an extremely promising start from Hot Mess; the energy is bubbling up nicely, the ideas are swirling about the pan; & with a little more cooking their mess should be overflowing the pan & penetrating every nook & cranny of the Comedy sphere.
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Mumble Comedy 