[As this is a long post about Ed Fringe, please feel free to jump to sections: Daughters of Lot, Mies Julie, bad comedy guy, A Guide to Second Date Sex, How a Man Crumbled, Shane Koyczan, and conclusion]
The Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Anyone who does theatre has heard of Fringe. It’s become the mecca of fringe theatre and is the festival of all festivals. After 8 theatre companies put on their own shows at the first Edinburgh International Festival back in 1947, theatre troupes from all around the world have participated in what is now the largest open-to-all theatre festival. With over 2,500 shows to choose from, the festival can be quite overwhelming. Which is why I didn’t bother looking up shows or making any sort of plan for my first adventure at Ed Fringe.
As my first time, I wanted to soak in the atmosphere and just see what it was like. And the main reason why I had to go no matter how broke I be was that Lauren Rayner, a very dear friend and theatre colleague all throughout college, was in town with a show. There’s no way I could not go up an see her.
After spending the afternoon flyering on the Royal Mile in my light bulb blue bowler hat (from the London Olympic Closing Ceremony), the show Daughters of Lot had a full audience. I like to think is was my charm that pulled in punters from the street. Most likely it was me yelling, “Biblical burlesque! You know you’re intrigued!”
The story takes the biblical daughters of Lot (who was the only righteous man from Sodom and Gomorrah and who was drugged by his cray cray daughters who did the nasty with him in order to have more crazy biblical babies) and brings them into a magical burlesque world run by Atlanta Georgia (that name evokes so much awesomeness).
This darkly comic portrayal gives us broad brushstrokes of what it means to be a woman, harshly critiquing the objectification and hyper-sexualization of women. We’re shown 2D images and caricatures not too unlike the constant bombardment we see in magazines and the media.
I first encountered this text in 2009 when the playwright, Alexis Roblan, was finishing up her MFA course at USC. I was an assistant stage manager for a staged reading and remember thinking that the text had so much potential. Ali’s writing is musical and poetic — it’s also biting and sharp. Although this play is a bit like preaching to the choir, I have to say that this choir sang on long after the sermon ended. There’s so much packed in that we needed time to sort through all its ideas.
The overall acting and direction are solid, however, the production is missing something. I never got a sense of the magical world that was alluded too. And if you’re doing burlesque you need better music. I’d love to see this done with original music and a pulsing, relentless soundtrack that never drops. Although the music used was fitting, it just didn’t muster up to what the production needed. Something to be developed for future iterations I hope.
The next day Lauren and I saw Mies Julie, a South African adaptation of Strindberg’s Miss Julie. Yael Farber transports the story to apartheid South Africa where the nation’s resentment and pain are embodied by John and Julie. Two stuck and damaged souls.
Breath taking. Stunning. Captivating. There are not enough superlatives to describe this bold adaptation. The set is down to bare essentials, actors are almost always onstage, scenes bleed from one to the other, while the tension never relents.
Life is about extremes. Evolution comes from constant struggle – adapt or die. And that is what all of these characters embody in some way. They are like atoms constantly colliding, as if in some discordant ballet – it’s beautiful, tumultuous, frictive and evocative.
Sound here was used to perfection — like the tension, it never eases. With onstage musicians and a live mixer, it pulses throughout the entire play, throwing the audience into a trance unable to escape.
Few shows leave me emotional at the curtain call – so blown away by what I’ve just witnessed, experienced. This is one of them. As Lauren and I walked out of the theatre it took quite a long time to regain a normal use of words. I love it when theatre does that to you. Takes you so far into another world that when you emerge you feel like you’ve traveled through a worm hole and once out you need time to find your bearings. This is a journey I’d gladly take again.
Perhaps one of the most memorable experiences of the Fringe was when a group of friends and I went to a free Fringe comedy gig. We were the only audience and as we walked in the comedy guy started chatting to us. Things were going really well and we were getting on fine and then I think he started his set. I say think because he sat down the whole time (which he pointed out) and I’m still not sure what his MO was all about.
One girl in our group had to leave early, so she apologized and left. Comedy guy did not like that at all and kind of sulked and made it really tense in the room. It was uncomfortable. We assured him that she genuinely had to leave and so he continued on with his story. The boyfriend of the girl who left by this point was angry with comedy guy for slagging off his girlfriend so with a huff and a puff he blew out of the room. Comedy guy continued on with his story – which I still don’t know what it was all about. Something about not dying, which in that moment he was – and he was taking us down with him.
Lauren had to go flyer for her show and was getting antsy but didn’t want to cause yet another scene, nor did she want to abandon me. Eventually she managed to bust free. Comedy man took it well. Maybe it was because they were both from New York so he thought he felt solidarity.
Thanks be to the comedy gods, his time slot ran out (and he never finished his story about not dying). The boyfriend dude from earlier was sitting in the back obviously irritated which comedy guy thought it wold be funny to further provoke him. So dude provoked back saying he was offensive, racist, and a terrible stand up comic. Eventually comedy guy exploded and started shouting “this is my room!” and “get the fuck out” etc etc and I’m thinking, “buddy, you’re doing a free fringe comedy show in a pub yelling about how this is your room. Look at at your life, look at your choices.”
People waiting for the next set look bewildered as we stumble out with bemused and confused grins. The manager of the pub reassured them that the next set was a different comic.
We’re standing outside still reeling about what just happened when comedy guy came up to us. “My fans,” he said with a grin. Er, um, no. He continued to blag on about how he was just joking and blah blah blah, thinking for some strange reason that we’re on his side, or that we at least understood him. My friend made sure to put him straight and pretty much told him, “You’re not funny. At all. Like ever.” But in the nicest way possible.
Sitting through the awkward and boring show made it worth it for the explosive end. Talk about real life drama.
That night a group of us went to see a comedy called A Guide to Second Date Sex. This hysterical romp takes us inside the heads of a couple on their second date – in the dude’s bedroom. They’re just going to watch a film and hang out, but thoughts of “this could lead to sex” is on constant loop. It’s absolutely true to life and spot on funny. There’s porn references, shaving of pubes, awkwardness, misunderstandings, more awkwardness, Cruel Intentions actually playing on the laptop, more awkwardness, and finally the end push – sex. This isn’t really a guide, but more of a chronicle of what goes on when people first start dating.
The next day our group went to see a physical theatre piece called How a Man Crumbled by a group called Clout Theatre. They’re Lecoq trained so I had high hopes a physical story-telling. The company was inspired by Russian absurdist Daniil Kharms, whose writing was predominately incongruous vignettes. And that is exactly what this piece embodies. It’s dark, twisted, absurd, grotesque and very rough around the edges. The execution and mastery of their physical language and commitment to the absurd is breath taking. Bringing the classic form of buffoonery to an all new, exciting and complex level.
This is one of those pieces that audiences might find hard to connect to because the threads of some sort of a narrative are so bare. But if you let go of understanding, then you’ll gain a truly unique experience. I’ve seen a lot of physical theatre and different forms of mime and commedia but I’ve never seen anything like the gems Clout shared with us.
Throughout the show, my friend and I would turn to one another baffled and bemused by what we were witnessing. If you’re going to do absurdism, and have a narrative that doesn’t make sense, then you better be bloody brilliant at it – which goes without saying. I’m excited for what’s to come from this relatively young company.
Later that day we saw Canadian spoken word poet Shane Koyczan. We had met him the night before at a free spoken word gig in which he was the MC. His poems where so rich that we eagerly came to his show.
If Shane is ever doing a gig near you – go. His use of language, delivery, sincerity, and generosity of spirit will move and inspire you. I cried three times, laughed, hooted and hollered, and said mm damn countless times. As we walked out my friend Joe (who loves words) said, “I didn’t know words could do that.” Which is saying a lot.
We, of course, invited him out for drinks with us. The boys we’re fawning all over him. It was adorable how much they were trying to start a longdistance bromance.
So that’s the bulk of my Fringe experience. I wore my light bulb blue bolwer hat the entire time (I did take it off when at a show) and people constantly stopped me in the street. Some people recognized it, others just thought it was the coolest hat ever – which it is. My friends and I are already planning our fringe punting for next year and you can bet I’ll have the hat.
I some some amazing shows, survived awkward shows, moved to tears, laughed till it hurt, drank too much, ate a deep-fried mars bar, stayed up till dawn, made some new friends and bonded with old ones, and I got to feel like a rock star in a ridiculous hat. All in all, it was an amazing fringe experience. Here’s looking forward to next year.
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