Category Archives: Theatre

Review – The Railway Children, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 19th September 2017

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You know The Railway Children. Everyone knows The Railway Children. Jenny Agutter fluttering her red petticoats, Bernard Cribbins fussing around the station, Iain Cuthbertson slowly emerging from the steam, William Mervyn waving from the train. A Christmas treat for all the family. All, that is, except for Mrs Chrisparkle, who’s never seen it, never read it, and who would never choose E. Nesbit as her specialised subject on Mastermind. I must admit, it’s not my favourite of her books; I always preferred The Phoenix and the Carpet. The Phoenix was such a big-head, he always made me laugh.

The Railway Children is one of those stories that never goes away. Even though it’s 111 years old now, the film is a classic, an evergreen; voted 66th best ever British film, I understand. The stage adaptations have proved immensely popular for new generations, frequently being staged at railway stations or museums and featuring real live steam trains. This current touring production by the Northcott Theatre Exeter – with Dave Simpson’s 1984 adaptation of the book, the original stage adaptation – doesn’t feature such high-tech authenticity. In fact, it almost makes a selling point of its low-tech approach. When the train goes by in the distance it’s clearly a model being pulled on a string. When the Old Gentleman is shown travelling past in the train, you can see his little feet going nineteen-to-the-dozen underneath the carriage, a la Fred Flintstone.When the railway station set snaps into place, a free-standing column that’s meant to hold up the station roof ends up swinging in the breeze because it’s too short to reach the floor, like a cross between a hangman’s gallows and a grandfather clock pendulum. When the opaque planes fall into place, onto which are projected all the other countryside, railway and street scenes, the word “fragile” on the bottom right pane is constantly visible as a weird reminder to the stagehands to treat it with care – very bizarre, that one.

But somehow, none of this matters. It’s the innate strength of the story and the overwhelming decency of the performances that win the day and provide a highly entertaining and truly sweet portrayal of a once well-to-do young family fallen on hard times whilst their father is mysteriously missing. (Why is it that everyone reading it or watching it has twigged that he’s been sent to prison but it never occurs to the kids? Naïve or what!) Whilst this is a show that will obviously appeal to a younger audience, it also has a very nostalgic appeal too – plenty of people in the (albeit rather small) audience for the first night in Northampton were children in the 50 plus age bracket. In the same way that a pantomime can work on many levels, this production also has a few nicely underplayed moments of more adult humour. For example, after the family have already cared for the Russian refugee Szczpansky, and are now also looking after the Old Gentleman’s grandson Jim, Perks, the Station Master (ahh for the Good Old Days) has a knowing look when he reports that yet another young man has taken up residence in Mother’s spare bedroom (wink, wink).

There’s an amusing running (literally) joke that has the doctor arriving at Three Chimneys, each time more and more exhausted due to the urgency of the call (or maybe it’s the rotundity of his stomach). There’s also some enjoyable class/society interplay, primarily between Bobbie, Phyllis and Peter on the one hand, and Perks’ vagabond son, John, on the other. For every “rather!” and “spiffing!” that Peter utters, he’s riposted by an “eyup” or an “eebahgum” from John, with neither of them realising quite how stereotyped the creative team have made them. Perks Senior, however, never belittles the Londoners for their posh way of talking because respect is his watchword.

We were surprised how moral and, indeed, socialist, the story is; everyone seems to have read the banned book by Szczpansky (clearly pro-proletariat and anti-Czar) and everyone, even including the Old Gentleman, who’s the archetype of tradition and conservatism (one would have thought) has a good word to say about it. The family are always acting selflessly, whether it’s protecting and nurturing sick individuals like Szczpansky or Jim, or risking their own safety to prevent a terrible train crash. When the children get all the tradespeople of the village to contribute a present for Perks’ birthday, it’s not charity that is their incentive to donate but a sense of a community pulling together to recognise the fine contribution he makes to their society. Even the doctor is willing to make house calls and treat people without any certainty of getting paid for it. If any one character is (gently) mocked, it’s young Phyllis for her petulant refusal to share. It comes as no surprise to discover that E. Nesbit was a Marxist and co-founder of the Fabian Society.

The production is positively dripping with charming performances. Joy Brook’s Mother is kindness and positivity personified as she cheerfully refuses to eat so that her children don’t go hungry in a scene that’s worthy of I Daniel Blake for the Edwardian era. It’s not hard to see why she would be the perfect mainstay of any family. Millie Turner’s Roberta is a generous and thoughtful young lady, definitely a chip off the old block, with a big heart that doesn’t get in the way of enjoying some adventure too. Katherine Carlton is hilarious as the spoilt Phyllis, truly wanting her cake and eating it; and Vinay Lad makes a terrific professional debut as the hearty young Peter, relishing all his ripping hyperboles like a junior Jay Gatsby.

I loved Andrea Davy as Mrs Perks, another character who only sees the best in people and really enjoys life, no matter what it chucks at you. Neil Salvage is a charming Old Gentleman, although he looks alarmingly like Stinky Pete from Toy Story 2, and there’s great support from Andrew Joshi as the puffed-out physician and Will Richards as Szczpansky and Jim; indeed, anyone who will get looked after in the spare bedroom, really. Callum Goulden displays just the right amount of cheekiness as the boisterous John. But maybe it’s Stewart Wright as Perks who really makes us smile most of all, with all his little narrative asides and startling friendliness; he brought out the child in me and made me want to become a train driver all over again.

I’d recommend this whole-heartedly if you want a nostalgia trip or are thinking of something to take the kids to see – or the grandparents – or yourself. Sugar for the soul, as Steve Balsamo once said. After its week in Northampton it steams on to Bromley, Leicester, Southampton, Bath and Aylesbury.

P. S. I feel certain this production would suit a smaller, more intimate theatre much better than the vast expanses of the Derngate auditorium. It’s a shame that the set is (I’m assuming) too wide for the Royal stage, because the show would have been perfect in there.

P. P. S. I’m not entirely sure Mrs C has the same sentimental heart as other people who have wept buckets over Bobbie’s final reunion with Daddy, her Daddy. “Sent to prison for five years?”, she asked; “what’s the problem? He’ll only do two and a half.”

Review – Mosquitoes, National Theatre, Dorfman Theatre, 16th September 2017

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What with the grand Lyttelton Theatre and the imposing Olivier Theatre, it’s very easy to forget there’s another space at the National. Round the back, behind the bikesheds, the Dorfman re-opened under that name in September 2014; before then it was the Cottesloe. I read that it underwent a transformation giving it greater sightlines (tick, our view was great) and more comfortable seating (really? It must have been agony before!) I had to check back to see the last time I’d been to the Cottesloe – it was for Dispatches, in July 1979. That’s a gap of 38 years. Blimey. Mind you, that’s not my longest gap between theatre visits to a particular London theatre; like many people, I suspect, I’ve not been to St. Martin’s Theatre since it became the home for The Mousetrap. Last time I was there was in September 1972 for Sleuth. Lord Lumme.

But I digress. Our main motivation to book to see Mosquitoes was not simply to visit the Dorfman, but to see one of our current favourite actors perform in the flesh – the wonderful Olivia Colman. I know that’s a dangerous tactic – if Ms Colman was indisposed, would we have minded? Yes, probably. However, she was disposed to appear and jolly fine she was too – but more of the performances later.

Mosquitoes is written by Lucy Kirkwood, whose NSFW we saw at the Edinburgh fringe in the summer and what a sparky little play that was; and so, unsurprisingly, is this. It’s the story of two sisters; one, cerebral, reserved, with apparently impeccable judgment; a scientist researching on the Higgs Boson project and a pillar of the Geneva Science community. The other is the opposite; corporeal, extremely outgoing and pragmatic, totally flawed and fallible and living in Luton. The scientist (Alice) has a troublesome teenage son (Luke); her sister (Jenny) lost her baby due to a stupid belief that the MMR vaccine is harmful. Making up the happy family is their mother, Karen; once a great scientist in her own right, now a querulous busybody who enjoys making outrageous demands and being shocking, as the early signs of dementia kick in. As the particle collider project comes to a head, Alice’s family make it more and more difficult for her to enjoy the fruits of her research. And when Luke goes missing, it’s the final straw… or is it…?!

Ms Kirkwood’s writing style is a pure delight: feisty, modern, unpredictable and completely believable. Her characters are beautifully sculpted and you get tantalising glimpses into their back-stories and emotions, even if they don’t affect the tale she’s currently telling. The result is a satisfyingly full piece; there’s so much there to consider and to enjoy beyond the plot itself. At times, Rufus Norris’ production is visually vivid with the excitement of the collider project – news screens on the walls, colourful patterns and projections on the floor and instrumentation (in fact, it reminded me of the good old days of the London Planetarium); at others, it’s suitably sparse and pared back, allowing the emotions of the characters take control of the stage. Paul Arditti’s stunning sound effects stop you in your tracks or jolt you out of your seat, depending on how much of a surprise they are. As a fiesta of sight and sound it all has a tremendous impact.

My only quibble with the play is what is surely a hugely unexpected and unlikely outcome regarding the plot development. Without giving too much away, someone does something in this play which you would expect would result in a considerable prison sentence. Someone else carries the can and deliberately takes the blame. However, that person appears to spend no more than a long weekend at Her Majesty’s pleasure (or the Swiss Chancellor’s pleasure I suppose). Given the characters involved, and the legal consequences of what happened, I found it all ridiculously hard to believe.

Lucy Kirkwood’s writing and characters are brought to life by some top-quality performances. Olivia Colman is fantastic as Jenny; a portrayal of someone getting through life just the best she can, despite all the awful things that life throws at her. She’s warm and funny; she’s hostile and challenging; she’s daring and reprehensible; she’s brave and fearless. She gives every aspect of her fascinating character a truly honest airing and she’s just a joy to watch. Olivia Williams makes a fine opponent for her sororal swordplay; her Alice is a splendidly confident, assertive person but when she feels let down by her nearest and dearest she shows she has vulnerability too. Ms Williams treads a beautiful balance between strength and helplessness in a very fine performance.

Joseph Quinn plays the horrendous Luke with just the right level of awkwardness and brattishness; another vulnerable character, Mr Quinn plays him so that he’s not particularly likeable – which is probably very accurate – even when Natalie (a strong confident performance from Sofia Barclay) treats him with cruelty. Their beautifully written “sex scene” – if you can call it that – is played with tremendous humour. Paul Hilton takes the intriguing but not entirely successful role of The Boson, masterminding, observing and expressing all the scientific processes like a slightly mad boffin. I will confess, he sometimes lost me in all that rigmarole. I was always useless at Physics.

Yoli Fuller is a charismatic Henri, and the other minor roles are all played with great conviction. The other star of the show is a wonderfully funny and strangely moving performance by Amanda Boxer as Karen; resolute in her determination not to be put out to pasture either domestically by her daughters or professionally by younger scientists. She’s great at dishing out the haranguing, domineering, battleaxe material, and then retreats into that wheedling, self-obsessed, hard-done-by attitude only too familiar to those with, shall we say, tenacious mothers. Superb.

The fact that the 2 hours 40 minutes fly by without your checking your watch is a testament to what an enjoyable production it is. A funny and thought-provoking play, causing human emotions and the clinical world of science to collide like particles in a lab. Beautifully performed and highly recommended, despite the somewhat incredible plot resolution!

P. S. I’m not going to leave it another 38 years before I come back to the Dorfman. Mrs Chrisparkle and I had a pre-theatre lunch at The Green Room directly next door to the National; plenty of gluten-free choices and I can thoroughly recommend it.

Review – Rules For Living, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 14th September 2017

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The curtain rises and straight away you recognise that comfortable setting; Christmas Day, the living room and the kitchen, a half-decorated tree, and two young people perched expectantly on the sofa. Is it going to turn into Alan Ayckbourn’s Seasons Greetings by another name? With surprise artificiality, a device projects the words “Rules for Living” on the roof of the house, as if we’d already forgotten the name of the play. Then another surprise; before anyone says anything, the set divides; the living room heads off stage left, the kitchen swerves stage right, leaving a big empty void in the centre of the stage. It already feels like technology is taking over this everyday suburban Christmas scenario.

Sam Holcroft’s Rules for Living first appeared at the National Theatre’s Dorfman a couple of years ago, where it got something of a mixed reception: ambitious and funny, but peculiarly stressful seemed to be the gist, and I entirely understand where that’s coming from. In a nutshell, Matriarch Edith is trying to create the perfect Christmas Day lunch (always a disastrous idea) to welcome back her husband Francis from hospital, who’s been suffering with some undisclosed ailment. Sons Matthew and Adam will be in attendance; Matthew with Carrie, the girlfriend he’s been going out with one year, Adam with his wife Nicole and their teenage daughter Emma, who suffers with depression. As you might expect, the relationships between the sons, their other halves and their mother get progressively strained as the day wears on. Francis comes home, more severely afflicted than Edith had let on, and the day degenerates even further.

But there’s a twist: and it goes back to that artificiality/technology influence felt in the opening moments. Each of the characters (apart from Francis and Emma) has an individual behavioural trait that they use to cope with stressful situations. Matthew, for example, has to sit down in order to tell a lie. We know this, because it’s projected on the walls and roof. So when Carrie asks Matthew if his mother likes her, and he sits down to say yes, we know he’s lying; you get the picture. Nicole must take a drink in order to contradict. As you can imagine, during a typical lively Christmas Day, quite a lot of contradicting takes place so Nicole gets somewhat boozed up to satisfy this particular behavioural need. And so it goes on. There’s an enormous amount of genuine hilarity to be enjoyed recognising how each character meets their psychological responses.

Sam Holcroft was partly inspired to write the play as a response to her own experiences of CBT – Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. Emma is undergoing CBT, and it makes her question her own response to the various challenges she faces. Nicole would like Adam to accompany her on some therapy sessions but he’s not remotely convinced. Of course, all the behavioural idiosyncracies that the characters display are ripe raw ingredients for a CBT session. The stress of learning a new card game is another new challenge for Christmas Day; Bedlam – that’s the game – where the rules include your requiring to identify others’ behavioural responses, which the characters attempt to do, whilst still having to obey their own. The furore this causes strongly reminded me of Reg’s wretched board game in The Norman Conquests. No wonder Christmas is stressful.

It’s a really clever construct; but I always felt aware of a greater being influencing the activities of the characters. The unseen writer truly plays the role of the puppet-master, creating a series of individual havocs that her characters must endure, almost at her random will. I guess that’s the case for any writer creating a story – their characters have to comply with the events that the writer chucks in their path. But the artificiality of it all is really emphasised with this play and production. It’s a most unusual experience. A small part of me wondered if it was an easy cop-out; should we be able to see, through the nuances of the writing, how the characters need to follow certain behavioural paths without having their rules of living flashed up so obviously on a colour-co-ordinated screen? Doing it this way certainly means that the rules are in charge, not the people. The characters even stop what they’re doing every time the rules change, then resume their path to their fate, like flies to wanton boys.

The cast absolutely pull out all the stops to mine as much humour from the situation as possible, and there are some beautiful moments of physical comedy, classic farce, and an outrageous food fight to enjoy. Jane Booker’s Edith is a superb portrayal of a control freak who needs her own versions of a “little helper” when she’s thwarted. Carlyss Peer turns into more and more of a musical theatre travesty as she shows Carrie’s way of coping with anxieties and rejection. Ed Hughes’ Adam turns from nice guy into sarcastic sod in order to protect himself from his own self-loathing, Jolyon Coy’s Matthew is up and down like the proverbial whore’s drawers reflecting his permanent state of mendacity, and Laura Rogers’ Nicole’s tongue gets loosened by alcohol the more belligerent she gets. It’s almost as though Derren Brown has had a session with them before they went on stage so that they react to individual trigger points. There’s a nice irony in the fact that the physically suffering Francis, a delightful performance by Paul Shelley using only a few words but wicked facial expressions, is the only character who mentally knows precisely what he wants and has no compunction about getting it.

It’s extremely funny and very thought-provoking; despite its Ayckbournian setting it’s a highly original look at a familiar domestic disaster zone. Abbreviate Rules For Living, add an “o”, and you get RoFL, which rather sums it up. And spare a thought for the stage management team who have to clear that mess up after every performance. If you’re wearing nice clothes, I wouldn’t sit anywhere nearer the stage than the third row! This is a co-production between the Royal and Derngate, English Touring Theatre and the Rose Theatre, Kingston, and after its few weeks in Northampton, it tours to Cambridge, Windsor, Brighton, Ipswich and Kingston. You have to see this one!

Review – Half a Sixpence – revisited – on its last night – Noel Coward Theatre, 2nd September 2017

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Last Christmas (no, this isn’t a George Michael tribute, but God bless him nonetheless) we saw Half a Sixpence as part of our usual let’s spend a few December nights in London seeing shows because we never go out ritual. Here’s the link to my blog review of that great night. We felt totally exhilarated by the end in the knowledge that we’d not only seen a great show but also a fantastic new star in the shape of Charlie Stemp.

Every so often, I get visited by Avenue Q’s Bad Idea Bears – I’m sure they call on you too – and they tempt me with things I really shouldn’t do. But earlier this summer, they suggested I book for the last night of Half A Sixpence. It’s going to be a great party, they said. Sounds like an excuse for champagne, they said. The atmosphere will be overwhelming, they said. And do you know, they were right! But would Mrs Chrisparkle be on board for such self-indulgence? You betcha!

We’d seen An American in Paris in the afternoon, so, fully satiated with well-meaning, classy yet slightly dull entertainment, we were absolutely in the mood for a right royal Folkestone knees up. We arrived at the New, I mean Albery, I mean Noel Coward theatre in plenty of time to settle down in Noel’s Bar and crack open a half bottle of Verve Cliquot before the show, which, I think it’s fair to say, prepared us in the best possible way. I bought another programme, so I could see to what extent the cast had changed since last December: answer, not at all. Absolutely the same cast. No one had left. That tells its own story. It must be such a delightful production in which to be involved.

The theatre was packed – the vibe was truly excitable; this audience is going to give the show its best possible send-off, isn’t it? Oh yes it did. From the moment that Mr Stemp and Devon-Elise Johnson ran into the auditorium and jumped up on the stage to portray Arthur and Ann as kids, the theatre simply erupted. This is going to overrun by at least half an hour, I reckoned. Actually, I was wrong; the cast enforced discipline on us by carrying on pretty promptly after each song – not like when we saw the last night of A Chorus Line, where the audience dominated the proceedings so much with their gratitude and fandom that the cast couldn’t hold back their emotions at all.

As each scene and number followed each other, the audience kept up their frenzied response. By the time we’d reached the interval, with Charlie Stemp’s Kipps drenched under the real rain, I genuinely felt like I needed a rest, as my mouth muscles were beginning to spasm from my permanent smile. Whilst stretching our legs (a euphemism for heading to the bar), we overheard one lady say to another “You must come and meet Cameron. In the Albery Bar. Upstairs.” We looked at each other with mischievous intent; shall we gatecrash? No, quickly coming to our senses, let’s not risk being turfed out on our ear. We hadn’t heard Pick out a Simple Tune yet.

Now that I’ve mentioned that song title, if you’ve seen the show, that tune has already earwormed itself back into your brain. That scene was as fantastic as I remembered. After its rip-roaring reception from the audience, it put a whole new meaning on Lady Punnet’s assurance that you can’t have more fun than at one of her musical evenings. I’d also forgotten how wonderfully pompous Gerald Carey’s James is when he’s being sonorous on the organ, tossing back his foppish hair, and checking to make sure everyone else has noticed how superb he was. Mr Carey came into his own again as the photographer in Flash, Bang, Wallop, revelling in every single double entendre magnificently. FBW brought the house down as you would expect.

It was only at the end that the cast started to drop the professional façade and showed us how much they loved the response. Mr Stemp wasn’t allowed to join the other members of the cast for the joint curtain call until we had elongated his personal ovation for several minutes. Cameron Mackintosh appeared on stage to give a final thank you speech and it was a thoroughly joyful experience. He said he hoped it wasn’t the end for this production – and I don’t see how it can be. This is born to tour and continue to delight audiences of all ages for years to come. A magnificent success for Cameron Mackintosh, Chichester, Charlie Stemp and all the cast. But we still didn’t find out about the results of their filming the show over some of the last performances. Will it appear on BBC4 over Christmas like Gypsy did a couple of years ago? I’m really hoping so.

Congratulations to all. Half a Sixpence, London will miss you!

Review – An American in Paris, Dominion Theatre, 2nd September 2017

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It’s been a few months now since An American in Paris hit the London stage, a much-awaited Big Ticket with a strong reputation for great dance and musical magic. It will probably come as no surprise to you, gentle reader, to discover that neither Mrs Chrisparkle nor I have seen the film (we’re useless cinemagoers) so I came to the show without any preconceptions or knowledge of what to expect.

The original movie is of course a product of the Hollywood machine, with a score by those legends George and Ira Gershwin. I knew many of the songs, but didn’t know they came from this show. I Got Rhythm, ‘S Wonderful, I’ll Build a Stairway to Paradise, The Man I Love, They Can’t Take That Away from Me… all show classics. To do the film justice, I’m guessing they concentrated on high production values, and as a result the show looks stunning. The sets are inventive, with an amazing use of projection to create different locations at the flick of a switch. The orchestra is fantastic, making those famous songs sound truly superb. I particularly loved the whole performance of “I Got Rhythm”; how it starts off as a languid, rather funereal anthem and so unlike the party piece we all know and love, but then gets a kick up the rear with a funky arrangement. The orchestra play it again as the entr’acte music and it’s absolutely brilliant.

There’s also a great cast. When I checked my programme – more of which later – I was delighted to see some favourite names in there. Jerry is played by Ashley Day, who was a sensational Curly in the touring production of Oklahoma! a couple of years ago. Zoe Rainey, who was a stylish and charming Hope in Sheffield’s Anything Goes, plays Milo Davenport with elegant enthusiasm. Ashley Andrews, superb in both Drunk and Mack and Mabel, shines as the difficult choreographer Mr Z, and there’s even the evergreen Jane Asher providing a frosty warmth to the role of Madame Baurel.

However, something’s just not right. It was Mrs C who pointed out that for some reason it just does not add up to the sum of its parts. Once you’ve got over the amusing set up of having three friends all chasing the same girl and none of them realise it, the story is paper thin, and doesn’t really sustain two hours forty minutes. The famous American in Paris ballet sequence, which acts as the climax to the show, whilst musically strong and immaculately performed, left me just a little bit bored. Leanne Cope, who plays Lise, is a remarkable performer for her combination of ballet (a First Artist at the Royal Ballet) and superb voice, but for me she maintains that beautiful ballerina countenance at the expense of emotional reaction to all that happens around her. I never got that spark of attraction between her and any of her three suitors, so their combined plight was never as moving as I’m sure it ought to be. It was like observing an immaculately beautiful museum piece, finely constructed by a master craftsman, but almost totally devoid of passion. There’s a slight disconnect in the dance too, with Miss Cope’s feet firmly in the ballet camp and Mr Day’s firmly in musical theatre, so that when they dance together something doesn’t quite gel. The ensemble and swings do an amazing job at filling the stage with their colourful energy but, again, I felt that some of Christopher Wheeldon’s choreography lacked a little imagination. So it all never really soared.

I was also slightly disappointed at the way some of the big numbers came across. ‘S Wonderful felt like a very slight kind of song somehow, like a wispy feather struggling to stand still in a breeze. I’ll Build a Stairway to Heaven was given a very grand Hollywood setting (think the finale to A Chorus Line but even more so) but it seemed strangely inappropriate; for me, the look and the sound clashed. I can’t explain it more; I simply remember watching the performance and thinking, no, this isn’t for me. And I like musicals!

There’s a running joke in the show that Jerry’s designs for the American in Paris big ballet sequence are not up to Mr Z’s demanding standards, and it’s only when Milo Davenport threatens to remove the funding for the show that Mr Z relents. The adaptation of Jerry’s designs to the actual staging of the number and the costumes of the dancers is incredibly well done – technically fantastic. However, I think I have to agree with Mr Z. When it actually came to the big number, I thought the abstract designs were rather cheap looking, and didn’t enhance the narrative of the dance.

You’d think from this that I didn’t enjoy the show. Not true – I certainly did. There was so much to appreciate musically and from the performances, and from the entertaining script (I enjoyed the occasional tongue-in-cheek references to George Gerswhin!) It looked sumptuous, and the orchestra were fantastic. It’s just that we didn’t connect with it. Still, a very appreciative house did; and I see that it has recently extended its booking to April 2018, so it’s obviously doing something right. I’m very glad to have seen it; I wouldn’t want to see it again.

P. S. The programme is a big colour brochure full of great photos (but then so is their website). £8. “Do you have smaller ordinary programmes, or is this the only one”, I asked the slightly surprised programme-seller. “No, this is it”, she replied. I duly paid out my £8, and wondered how I was going to break the news to Mrs C. It was so big I could hardly stuff it into my man-bag. I’m not going to use the words “rip off”, because it’s probably not bad value for what it offers. It’s just that it almost offers too much! For £8 I could buy a week’s worth of undies at Primark.

The Edinburgh Fringe One-Weeker 2017 – Penthouse, 26th August 2017

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I’m expecting our next play to tell a fascinating story of a gifted, lucky life turned to dross. It’s Penthouse at theSpace on Niddry St (Lower) at 16:45 on Saturday 26th. Let’s read the blurb: “Ewan is one of the country’s most intelligent young bankers. However he’s just lost close to £1.4 billion of investors’ money in an illegal trade he should not have made. His plan? Hire the penthouse of a hotel and indulge in a blowout before ending it all. Everything is turned upside down when he meets an escort called Eloise. Sex, drugs and depression blur Ewan’s perception of reality. Penthouse offers an insight into the world of bankers and the pressure they face that can lead them to take their own lives.”

In this day and age it asks a lot of an audience to feel sorry for a banker, but I wonder if this might just do it. Written by and featuring Ed Brody, the remainder of the cast are Cat Lamb, Ryan Hutton and Dario Coates. Check back around 6 pm to see what we thought of it. By then the next preview blog should be available to read too.

Great little play, and acted with tremendous attack and class. All four characters are totally convincing and the four actors all put in fantastic performances. I was really hoping for a different ending…. but I guess its resolution is the most credible. On reflection, it’s a shame that the promotional material gives away a substantial part of the plot, which the text actually nicely hides until a final reveal. Still, an excellent show.

The Edinburgh Fringe One-Weeker 2017 – Fragile Man, 26th August 2017

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And our last day at the Edinburgh Fringe has already come around! We’re starting off with Fragile Man at Space 2 @ theSpace on the Mile at 11:50 on Saturday 26th. Here’s the blurb: “On an isolated hilltop two men must confront their darkest secrets and deepest fears in a chance encounter destined to change their lives forever. An unsettling and insightful drama exposing two men’s fight for truth, justice and survival. Developed into an original script through improvised workshops, Fragile Man highlights the difficulties that can accompany ‘becoming me’ and the mental and emotional struggle we face to know our true selves. Its themes delve deeply into our shared experience of being human, exploring fate, faith, envy, self-preservation and the dawning reality of our own fragile mortality.”

Written by David Martin and performed by him and Richard Miltiadis, this play was written in response to the high numbers of suicides by men in western Europe. I’m sure this is going to be hard-hitting and thought-provoking. Check back around 1 pm to see what we thought. By then the next preview blog should be available to read too.

Very dark. I’m not sure I really liked it very much, to be honest. There’s a degree of contrivance which makes the two characters almost reverse roles, and there’s quite a lot of self indulgent dramatic poses that I don’t think helped. I found it rather cruel; Mrs Chrisparkle thought it rather glamourised suicide attempts. I think we’ve seen other plays that have tackled the subject better. Sorry!

The Edinburgh Fringe One-Weeker 2017 – The Tinder Tales, 25th August 2017

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Our next show is quite short but hopefully it’s none the worse for that. It’s the King’s Players’ production of The Tinder Tales at Mint Studio @ Greenside @ Infirmary Street at 17:20 on Friday 25th. Here’s the blurb: “A narcissistic toothbrusher. A guy who wants to be his dog. A girl still attached at the umbilical cord to her mother. Who is the Tinder match behind your screen? What would you do if it was you? Based on real life interviews about online hook-up misadventures, The Tinder Tales explores the highs and lows of the contemporary dating scene. We invite you to join us on an (optionally) interactive series of fly-on-the-wall dates where we explore the awkwardness, hilarity and horror that anonymity seems to breed.”

I’ve absolutely no experience of dating apps so I’m expecting entertainment and education in equal measure! I’ve read a review that looks very promising, although I’m wondering if it might feel a little static. Check back around 6.15 pm to see what we thought. By then the next preview blog should be available to read too.

A very intriguing little play, with individual stories of Tinder success and failure (mainly failure, tbh) delivered smartly by a talented troupe of young actors. I liked the fact that some accounts wrong-footed the audience when you realise the sex of the actor isn’t always the sex of the story teller. Recommended!

The Edinburgh Fringe One-Weeker 2017 – Anna Morris: Bitchelors, 25th August 2017

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For our next show we’ve got a comedy that sounds like great fun. It’s Anna Morris: Bitchelors at Ballroom @ Voodoo Rooms at 15:10 on Friday 25th. Take a look at the blurb: “The critically acclaimed character comic and creator of last year’s award-winning sell-out wedding comedy It’s Got to be Perfect returns. Morris revives 2014’s sell-out Would Like to Thank, as four characters compete at the Woman of the Year Awards, hosted by Georgina the Bride and judged by you. A Scouse Mumtrepreneur, a darkly secretive baker, a glamorous deadly foreign correspondent, an anti-marriage activist. Four women, one award, who wins? You decide! ‘Morris has the X Factor’ ***** (EdinburghGuide.com). Best Show 2016 ***** (FunnyWomen.com). ‘Wildly inventive and intelligent’ **** (ScotsGay.co.uk). **** (Stage). **** (Herald). **** (Skinny).”

I’ve never seen Anna Morris before but her Youtube videos are hilarious. Check back around 4.30 pm to see if we enjoyed it. By then the next preview blog should be available to read too.

Indeed, as expected, this was hilarious. She has great interaction with the audience and I loved how information she gleans early on in the show comes back as useful material for later characters. Her voices work really well too, including a very accurate scouse accent that wasn’t over the top. Hugely entertaining!

The Edinburgh Fringe One-Weeker 2017 – Dickens for Dinner, 25th August 2017

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Next up we feel like having a literary laugh with a group of actors we’ve already seen once this week. It’s Dickens for Dinner at +1 @ C venues – C (sounds more like an algebra sum than a venue) at 13:30 on Friday 25th. Here’s the blurb: “The cast of the sell-out Shakespeare for Breakfast are inviting you back for dinner with a Dickensian twist! Join us for a deliciously daring look at this classic British author, with a feverishly funny flavour. Who says literature can’t make you laugh? Sit down for a truly surreal repast. Dickens goes delirious. Bring your Great Expectations to see what the Pickwick Papers have been raving about. Free soup!”

We enjoyed last year’s Shakespeare for Breakfast so much that we had to book again for this year – and on the strength of that we’re giving their Dickens a chance too. It will be interesting to see if there is equal scope to tease humour out of the old Victorian – but if anyone can, the SfB team can! Check back shortly after 2.30 pm to see how much fun it was. By then the next preview blog should be available to read too.

It was exactly as you’d expect – all the fun of Shakespeare for breakfast, with added Christmas Carol. They put such energy and anarchy into their shows that they’re simply irresistible. Another winner!