The Old Fart's festival guide: There's no escaping the outside world
Outside comedy, the Fringe staple, shows of a political, social and transgender nature abound, reflecting some of the issues of the moment.
The Summerhall venue probably has the greatest number of such in one place. Performers come from all over the world “to demonstrate, speak out and challenge audiences, not just entertain them”. For example, Dog Life is the second play in a trilogy which follows the rehabilitation of a jailed Glasgow enforcer, Thomas McCrudden, in which he plays himself as he discovers the effect he has had on others, particularly women, in his life. A very powerful show. I was very tempted to see Summerhall's Pictish Trail and Friends, a one-off show about music and life on the Isle of Eigg - until I realised that it started at 20.00 and went on until 03.00. Now that is a Fringe marathon.
As usual, there is a peppering of current political issues at the Fringe. Clearly, the yearly event is definitely left looking, and has always been - an alternative view of the status quo. “70 years of defying the norm” is this year's strap line. Not surprisingly, there has been a fair number of references to Brexit and Donald Trump (even in interactive kids' shows, presumably because they've been earwigging their parents' conversations).
Just one example: stand up comedian, James Acaster, compares Brexit to making tea - an interesting concept. Imagine the UK as a tea bag: if the bag is left in the brew, the stronger the resultant beverage; take the bag out, the brew gets no stronger and the bag is thrown in the bin.
And, not that we've seen it, there's even Brexit the Musical on offer; we can only hope at this distance for a happy ending.
And, naturally, The Donald makes good bait for comedy lines such as : “What will Trump's security detail yell at him come an assassination attempt?” “I don't know,what will ...etc.?” “Donald! Duck!” (Origin unknown!)
Simon Evans and The Independent's own Mark Steel also cannot but help allude to the two themes in their excellent, thought provoking shows.
In Mark Thomas' annual treat, this year entitled A Show that Gambles on the Future, the audience is asked to suggest what will happen within four years and a vote is taken on which Mark should get odds from a Soho betting shop. The night we went, perhaps inevitably, Trump and Brexit were front runners, although the notion that Theresa May would die in a corn field when it was discovered she had a wheat allergy came close. However, the winner by wild shouting and applause was that Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un would stand naked side by side in a willy comparison competition. (The actual phrasing was alliterative incidentally!) We wait to see what odds Mark is given. However, he corpsed on stage at the prospect.
And equally, Trump and Brexit come up regularly in improv shows. Showstoppers! The Improvised Musical has had to veto Downing Street, Brussels and The White House as settings for the musical to be created in the allotted 70 minutes from audience suggestions of place, theme and musical styles.
I should at this stage declare an interest in this show. It began 10 years ago in a 40 seater portacabin in George Square and 10 years later is filling the 750 Grand Theatre each evening. I know just how much hard work and determination has been required to achieve this, as our daughter has been in the team from the outset. They were rewarded last year with an Olivier Award and are performing all over the world. It reinforces my thoughts in a previous article that although many come up here, expectantly, with their first show, it requires real grit and practice over many years to succeed. For many, of course, it's simply an experience, a right of passage, and they have no intention of making a career in theatre or comedy.
Several readers have sent in comments on previous articles. Michael (a Nottingham based reader), commenting on my reported beginnings in pub basements (like Alun Cochrane in the Tron all those years ago, and Alex Morris this), thinks it not all bad, as the only way will be up. However you can't help wondering where the hundreds of comedians here go for the rest of the year and how, or whether, they all make a living from gigs on the circuit and whether they are still lurking in basements.
One deviation, if I may. Like many parents of Fringe performers, for many years I think we invested as much money as the Arts Council in supporting young actors in Edinburgh. We would regularly be accosted in the street by tired and hungry looking thespians, from university, drama school or those just out in the draughty world of performance, saying, “Hello, I'm a friend of your daughter from drama school” or “I worked with her on production X.” Or some such.
It was then into Ciao Roma for pizza or pasta lunch. Now however, 20 or so years on, we are treated to a meal by those once penniless students. And as I look around the same restaurant today, I see other parents feeding today's hopefuls and their friends, and I can only wish that they, too, will ultimately reap where they have sown.
In order to make further sense of Cardinal Rule No. 3 we have experimented this year in staying in a venue for whole days. It does seem to work pretty well, and avoids rushing about the cobbled streets, seeking shows in distant venues. Even at the main venues - Assembly, Underbelly, Pleasance, Gilded Balloon, Summerhall - there are so many shows on offer at each that, even if you stayed at the same venue for the full month, you couldn't see them all.
One such day was spent at Assembly Rooms, George Street.
To Hell in a Handbag is a delightful tale of the secret lives of Miss Prism and Canon Chasuble, minor characters in “The Importance of Being Earnest”.
Time then for a coffee before Mies Julie, another Baxter Theatre drama, set on a remote farm, 23 years after apartheid. The uncompromising and visceral story of the relationship between a black labourer and his white master's daughter. That then needed a time for reflexion and another strong coffee, before finally on to “Concerto a Tempo D'Umore” a delightful mix of classical music, audience participation and madcap high jinks with a highly professional string orchestra. A great mix, and in the right order. And it left time for quick visit to the nearby Book Festival Book Shop to stock up on literature for the winter months in front of the fire, before dinner with friends at the Amorone restaurant.
Perhaps we should end with Soixante Mirth a pleasant hour in Charmian Hughes' company. She offered the following advice, from her mother: “Don't show everything to boys before your wedding night. Only then reveal your true personality.”
The final week beckons. Fifty-five shows seen so far. The Book shows very few gaps in the schedule so we can, with some honesty, tell those flyerers still looking for audiences, that we have no slots left. We are surviving, although we are convinced the hills and steps are getting steeper.
