Bailey Swilley: Gimme a Sign!, Laughing Horse at the Three Sisters.
It’s not a coincidence that that you enter The Wee Room at The Three Sisters to the sound of Ghostbusters, because Bailey Swilley’s Gimme a Sign is all about ghosts – even those who are still alive! Bailey is a terrifically authoritative storyteller, and everyone present was caught up on her stories about her family life (part American, part Taiwanese), her parents, her grandparents, and the wonderful boyfriend whom everyone loved except her. She has a very entertaining raconteuse style, dotting her reminiscences with funny stories but also not shying away from the emotional pitfalls that come from loving someone who is no longer with us. There’s also a salutary tale about why you should never attend a funeral without underwear. Effortlessly enjoyable!
Common is as Common Does: A Memoir, Zoo Southside.
21Common’s new show seems a little perplexing at first. We’re clearly in the Wild West, all blue jeans and Stetsons, with a bunch of guys and gals all ready for a spot of line dancing. The Man introduces us to the main players of the piece: himself – naturally; The Woman – second fiddle but she has her uses, The Rascal – an unpredictable cove who might or might not kill you, and The Boy – definitely at the bottom of the pecking order (for now). Through various songs and various scenes, some of which are in Cowboy Country but some are in any deprived estate you might find in the UK, we see poverty and violence, forming a stark contrast with our rather romantic view of an old John Wayne western. The most striking (literally) scene is where The Man physically abuses The Woman (on video) whilst she sings Dusty Springfield’s You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me to him; it’s an awful, horrible moment – and then you realise how powerful that image is. All this story is told through the narration of The Man, mixed with song and dance. Think TV’s Shameless but with a western twist set to contemporary dance. Very clever indeed; sometimes a little scruffy around the edges, but it produces impactful theatre.
Rob Auton: The Eyes Open and Shut Show, Assembly Roxy.
One thing (there are others) that unites all of Rob Auton’s shows is that you never know quite what to expect. Even when you’re halfway through the show, you still don’t know what’s ahead in the second half. I think Mr Auton likes to keep us on our toes; but possibly not as much as he likes to keep himself challenged, always coming up with brand new ideas from which to launch a show. Early on in The Eyes Open and Shut Show Rob invites us to close our eyes and listen to his instructions – following thoughts around the body and enjoying how comfy our eyes feel. But there’s no point my giving you any more details about the act; it’s of such a philosophical slant that it would be impossible for me to provide a description anywhere near it. Rob Auton is always a man of whimsy more than stand-up jokes, and he always makes you see familiar things from an unusual angle. A class act!
Pillock, Assembly Rooms.
Meet Pillock – his name for himself, not ours; a jobbing actor who’s happy to take the unimportant minor roles so long as there’s a bit of cash coming in. Projecting ADHD in his every move, he hurtles around from one end of the stage to another, dropping his little gossipy bits of information, purely confidentially of course, whether it’s via the medium of a downward dog or a Grindr swipe. Into his life comes Eugene; handsome, mature, rich – what’s not to like? Pillock tells us about their slowly evolving relationship, including the fact that there’s three of them in this set-up – the other being Eugene’s late husband Peter. Where will this journey take them? Only Pillock has the answer. This is a beautifully written monologue, both hilarious and sad in equal measure, delivered with a lively joie-de-vivre and masses of energy by Jordan Tweddle. Simply but effectively designed, the text is full of wonderful comic observations; one that stood out for me was the reason why you can’t consider ADHD to be a superpower. A great piece of writing and a very fine performance. Highly recommended!
Robin Grainger: Refurb, The Stand Comedy Club 2.
Wasn’t it Fred Astaire who said – and I think it was – pick yourself up, dust yourself off, start all over again? That’s basically the premise of the brilliant Robin Grainger’s new show Refurb – those moments in life when you think you need to have a bit of a smartening and shaping up to face the new challenges of life. Robin’s challenges started early – three months early in fact, as that is how much gestation period he and his mum missed out on. The perils of prematurity are the starting point for a lot of his issues – which have very much influenced his approach to life. Needing physiotherapy sessions as a boy, hiding away from school sports, and being too scared to go on the slide in the park – he’s needed a lot of Refurbs to get to his current happy status. Mr Grainger has that rare gift of being simply, innately funny; the comic observations start from the first second and don’t let up till the final minute. He populates his ideas with marvellous moments of local colour; they’re not vital to the thrust of his comic argument, but add brilliant side-insights – for example, his re-enactment of phoning his mum in the wilds of Aberdeenshire creates a hilarious image of windswept isolation. Refurb is beautifully structured – all the ideas littered throughout the show come together in the final moments to make a very satisfying whole. And he’s spot on about toilet seats. It’s a privilege to spend an hour in his company.
A Play by John, TheSpace at Surgeons’ Hall.
As you enter the auditorium, Matteo is busy with his woodwork. Noisily banging nails into chipboard, he seems to know what he’s doing – but it’s not as good as the finished piece of work on the far side of the stage. When Reggie joins him it becomes clear that they’re building their own coffins; they toy with each other over the idea of killing each other too – makes sense, I guess, in an unconventional way. And if you’re going to be building your own coffin, there’s only one likely outcome at the end of the play. Mule Productions’ A Play by John has the germ of an idea for a great play, but it’s not quite there yet. Inspired by the likes of Pinter’s Dumb Waiter and Beckett’s Godot, you can see the tensions between the two trapped characters with no obvious way out of their emotional and physical cul-de-sac; but as the play currently stands, it suffers from a lack of subtlety and a prolonged, awkward ending. It needs to make more of the realisation that they are characters in a play, and it would be far more effective simply with less shouting. It’s a clever idea, and not without its charm, with good performances from Marc Wadhwani and Jules Smekens.