2014 Edinburgh Fringe

Si Hawkins' Fringe Diary 2014, Part 2: Movers, Shakers, Gamble-Takers

Alex Horne

I always think I pack in a lot of shows at the Fringe each year, until you realise that there are 3,000 events to choose from, so I actually saw, um, between one and two per cent of them. Still, it's not about quantity, but quality.

Still occupying his now semi-legendary lunchtime slot at The Stand, and sporting a much-loved old costume this year, super-loon Tony Law is in a more thoughtful mood with Enter the Tonezone. Well, eventually. Mock-stung by the taxman and urged by his people to explore other artistic avenues, Tone dabbles with excruciatingly awkward audience interaction and even a very Fringey bit of physical theatre, but then moves onto a proper honest anecdote, which proves genuinely moving when one of his regular supporting cast shuffles off this mortal coil. Tears in the Tonezone - now there's a first.

Perhaps the most satisfying show I witnessed at this year's fest was Alex Horne's, and that's not just because I ended up taking an integral part. But then every part is integral in Monsieur Butterfly. Hopefully it's not giving the game away to reveal that the show revolves around him recreating a huge homemade version of Mousetrap, the over-elaborate board game. Hiding on the end of a row, I ended up having to help him fire some string through a thing while also geeing the audience up long-jumper style and wearing my specs on top of my head at Horne's behest, so I couldn't actually see what happened. From the subsequent hearty cheers I can only assume it all went swimmingly.

On a similar theme, I once shared a bill with Dane Baptiste. He had the misfortune to follow me after I attempted an appalling set about football last year (for a feature) and instantly recharged the room with a brilliant footy-related bit of his own. That routine isn't even in his debut Edinburgh show, Citizen Dane, which shows confidence, as he muses instead on cultural identity, the debatable merits of descending from the Caribbean's version of Spiceworld, and a sensational dance section. The stand-ups are really pushing the envelope this year.

Particularly ambitious is Richard Herring's return to playwriting, although admittedly I hadn't realised quite what a big deal this production is until I turned up at the Assembly Grand. Far from the Fringe's typical one-man-monologue affairs, I Killed Rasputin is a seven-hander (or 14-hander, if you actually count the hands), with an impressive cast. The excellent Nichola McAuliffe gender-bends as the main protagonist, Prince Felix Yusupov; Trainspotting's Eileen Nicholas plays his exasperated wife; while Justin Edwards (Jeremy Lion, The Thick Of It) turns up as the eponymous anti-hero. It's a well-researched, often innovative and frequently very funny production, perhaps a bit long at 80 minutes, but then that's after me seeing about 25 hour-long shows beforehand. Fringe criticism is 80% context.

Alexis Dubus

I'd heard good whispers about Alexis Dubus' show, but thankfully I hadn't actually heard that the whole thing is in verse, which might have been off-putting. Cars and Girls turns out to be a lovely hour reminiscing about Dubus' love-life, with reference to European jaunts and Nevada's Burning Man festival. Punchlines have added power when they're rhymed, and the one that rounds off the first half is an absolute humdinger.

It's interesting witnessing the different approaches to sketch comedy that pepper the Pleasance Courtyard in the afternoons, from the mainstream and madcap to the more cerebral. The Dreams Factory by Clever Peter is in the latter camp, a skilfully-written, properly-acted tale about a maladjusted marketing team whose jargon-fuelled brainfarts beget a series of increasingly intense skits peppered with pain and humiliation. In fact they're almost too clever by half, as the audience take about 30 minutes to warm up to the hidden depths of these seemingly objectionable characters, but they finally thaw and the second half is a thoroughly agreeable, satisfyingly conclusive romp.

Also well worth seeing, of the events I've reviewed elsewhere: Joel Dommett's high-concept free show Finding Emo; the fabulous farce of BEASTS; future star Natasia Demetriou's utterly ludicrous debut; still got-it gag godfather Kevin Day; the seemingly infallible Abandoman; solid stuff from Susan Calman; Glenn Wool's greatest hits - Wool's Gold; and Simon Munnery... sings Soren Kierkegaard, which I thought was the most quintessentially Fringey thing you could ever see, until - when heading for the train home - I witnessed a preoccupied-looking TV comic trying to negotiate his way past a Stormtrooper in a kilt. I almost gave them both a pound.

Si Hawkins' diary part 1

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