
August 4th-26th (23:15)
Surgeon’s Hall
Dum Vivimus Vivamus
Stephen Catling has brought his new, four-part show to the Edinburgh Fringe – which is part stand-up, part spectacle, partly stupendous & partly stupefying. I say that because, as I watch’d his vigorous performance, I found myself at different times laughing out loud, staring wide-eye’d, gushing with joy & wondering what the damninnit was going on! I’d taken my pals along to see him, two of whom were ‘encouraged’ onto the stage for one of the several very entertaining audience participations – of which, the sport of eating a yoghurt with toothpicks was the thrilling best. That’s what I mean when I was the show was part-spectacle – Beehavioural Problems is prop heavy, & they appear before us at a relentless pace, for Stephen is a galloping comedian & keeps us clinging on all the way right up to his incredibly, ehm, interesting climax.
I guess I should also mention that Stephen is autistic, I mean, he does himself a few times thro’ the show, & we get genuine flashes of his autism when his voice suddenly goes exhortatorialy louder & sharper in response to whatever tribulation he is facing at that moment. I should also mention the bee theme, which only pops up at the end, but rather punny-funny & dripping with honey. Before then we find ourselves rising on a tide of deft daftness all the way to the big reveal & that quite astonishing climax. So, nice one Stephen, & I’m extremely curious to see what theme you come up with next, tho’ your colorful Beehavioural Problems will definitely be sticking in my mind for a long, long time.
Damo















As we are led place to pretty place, we become steeped in the iconography of money, especially that of Britannia, who has been transmorphed over the ages from coin to coin & onto the notes of our island, whose helmet Susie dons as she leads us about the place, her umbrella being waved about as if she were some holiday rep in Benidorm. Most of what she says is interesting, rather than funny, but she is a the master of digress & can burst the semi-seriousness in a Thalian flash. Alas, she is a little too soft-spoken to compete with the street-sounds of the Scottish capital, but apparently Susie will be returning next year with the same or a similar project, & will have her tweaks ready to turn.
Despite the audible quietness, Susie’s message, intelligence, storytelling & humour simply boom out into the aether; spending an hour in her company is a charming alternative to doing just about anything else during the Fringe. ‘We’re not here to talk about the dog,’ she tells us as we enter Greyfriars Kirk, – one of the quieter spots on the tour – ‘we’re here to talk about insurance,’ & by the end of the walk, I noticed just about everyone involved was waiting politely to speak to Susie, so cleverly – & wittily – had she piqued us all.








