Seconds to Midnight, Pleasance Courtyard.
What would you do if you knew a nuclear attack was on its way and you’d be dead in seven hours? Apart from send a few hurried messages to my nearest and dearest I reckon I’d just give up, get drunk and go back to bed. But not Eddie and Jo. Besties, queer, but not in a relationship with each other, they’re trapped in Eddie’s house and fed up with playing family games. They recall the loves they lost, the parents, a few fun times, and how they met. Not a lot actually happens in Jessica Tabraham’s Seconds to Midnight, and I must confess it didn’t hold my attention throughout. However, there are two good performances from Elise Busset and Cosimo Asvisio – and it does make you think what you would do under the same circumstances.
100% My Type on Paper, C Arts C Venues C Alto.
Sammy and Clyde are on a first date. Very awkward, very tentative, and very nervous. He tries to make light of it with some ill-conceived jokes; she can barely hide her disdain at his appallingly clumsy approach. As the first meeting gets played out in different ways, and the characterisations change, the play’s director steps in and tries to make Sammy and Clyde act it out differently – again and again and again. A very clever and at times hysterically funny play by Lola Annesley, 100% My Type on Paper examines the elements that make up the perfect date and whether the audience might want something different from the participants. Deconstructing dating – and very nicely done.
Sameer Katz: Whether Conditions, Laughing Horse @ The Counting House.
There aren’t many Indian men who, unmarried and with no children, would have the courage to have a vasectomy. But of those that have, I doubt any of them would have told their parents. That’s just not the usual run of events! But Sameer Katz did (have a vasectomy that is, definitely didn’t tell the parents), and that bold decision is just one aspect of his slightly unconventional life – he’s a comedian, not a doctor, after all. With a very relaxed, quiet style, he gives us his comic observations on safe topics like not finishing his PhD, and dangerous topics like suicide. There is an edge to some of his material that is perhaps more probing than downright funny, but it’s still an enjoyable hour of confidently delivered material from a Californian/Indian perspective.
Dr Dolittle Kills a Man (and Reads Extracts From His New Book), Underbelly Cowgate.
Depending on one’s age, everyone has their own Doctor Dolittle to cherish. When I was young I remember that many of my schoolfriends had the original Hugh Lofting books. I can only assume they belonged to their parents! My own Dolittle memories are of Rex Harrison, Richard Attenborough and the push-me-pull-you. Today’s Dolittlers will mainly associate him with Eddie Murphy – much to this Dr Dolittle’s annoyance. Aidan Pittman plays the eponymous speaker-to-animals as he takes us on a journey across continents and through jungles, on the quest of finding the [expletive deleted] ruby. This is an immensely silly show, crammed with physical comedy, which Mr Pittman performs with huge commitment, attack and a lot of tongue-in-cheek. It’s the kind of show you either get completely or which totally goes over your head, depending on your own personal level of outright silliness. I will be honest: it wasn’t really my cup of tea, but many of the audience were hooting with delight throughout. Oh, and he does, genuinely, kill a man.
Lorraine Hoodless: DINK, PBH’s Free Fringe at the Southsider.
I think most people know what a DINK is (double income, no kids); but did you also know you can have SINKs, PINKs, and even GINKs. Perhaps you’re a DINKWAD – Lorraine Hoodless has just attained that dizzy status – or a SINKWAC? I think our nearest is a NINKWALD – no income, and our dog died years ago. This is a fun examination of the benefits of being a DINK – the freedom to do what you want, to go where you want to go, and to spend all your money on yourself! There is a serious side to all this too, depending on whether your DINK status is by choice, or if life forced it on you. And if there’s a lesson to be learned from all this, it’s that it’s best not to assume one way or the other the reasons why someone is DINKy. Lorraine Hoodless has a friendly, welcoming style on stage, is open to loads of audience participation (not the scary type, but the neighbourly type), and her material is very relatable and recognisable. There’s a hilarious sequence when she’s recounting how difficult it was for her partner to play his part in the IVF procedure (NB: it really wasn’t). She delivers her comic observations with a lively warmth and excellent timing, and there’s genuinely something for everyone in this show. Good fun and unexpectedly educational too!
Little Deaths, Summerhall.
It’s 1997, at school. Charlie and Debs meet for the first time. It’s a slightly awkward moment but you can tell that theirs will be a perfect friendship. From the heartbreak of Geri Halliwell leaving the Spice Girls to the stresses of one of them moving to New York with a job opportunity, and from helping each other through their first periods to welcoming a baby into their midst, they’ll always have that bond between them. Won’t they? Amy Powell Yeates’ Little Deaths explores the many little deaths that a profound friendship encounters over the years, yet Charlie and Debs inevitably overcome them. Beautifully written and constructed, with two fantastic and mature performances by Olivia Forrest as Charlie and Rosa Robson as Debs. A truly heartwarming play.