Josh Makinda is Probably Fine, Just the Tonic at the Mash House.
Only seven people turned up to see Josh Makinda is Probably Fine at Just The Tonic at The Mash House; nevertheless Mr M gave us a very entertaining show, albeit probably a little different from the act he normally delivers. He’s a very funny guy indeed, with a delightful ear for the mischievous and the surreal, constantly wandering up comical garden paths to explore whatever comedy nuggets might be hiding. His material includes the pitfalls of his previous job protecting vulnerable children, exploring his venue for glory holes, and his experience of US healthcare. He sets up an excellent connection with the audience and cuts a warm and appealing persona on stage. He fully deserves a much larger audience – sometimes at the Fringe it’s worth taking a risk on someone you’ve never heard of – you might just strike gold.
The Ghost of White Hart Lane, Underbelly Bristo Square.
John White was born in Musselburgh in 1937 and died aged 27 in 1964 from a lightning strike; a freak accident – he was sheltering under a tree from a thunderstorm at the time. He was also an international football player for Scotland, and a player for Alloa Athletic, Falkirk, and most significantly, Tottenham Hotspur. Martin Murphy’s tightly written and nimbly structured play calls for a powerful and versatile performance from Cal Newman. He plays John White, both in the early days of his career and at the time of his death, and John’s son Rob White, as a brave eight-year-old fondly keeping souvenirs of his father in a trunk, and as a mature adult with a family of his own. The play jumps around the time periods somewhat, but Newman’s performance always nails the characterisations and accents perfectly. Though sad, the play is never maudlin, and is a fitting tribute to a sporting hero cut down in his prime, and the son who wants to celebrate and cherish his memory.
Mark Row: A* in the Making – Revision Lesson, Laughing Horse at the Hanover Tap.
Mark Row dishes out the background stories and classroom anecdotes that make up life as a schoolteacher. His subject is Drama, which, as we all know, is merely about pretending to be a tree; but Mr Row has an alternative method of looking at that particular cliché. He is an imposing yet friendly figure on stage – in fact, you can exactly imagine what he would be like as a schoolteacher; the authoritative voice, the ability to control a group of people (not in a bad way), and the truly positive wish for his schoolkids to develop into the best people they can possibly be. It’s a very enjoyable and entertaining hour; perhaps I expected his material to be a little edgier and push the boundaries a bit more. I did, however, learn about the code teachers use when they’re writing reports, when they can’t be as truthful as they would like to be – you’ll be rooting out all your old reports to decode them and discover exactly what your teachers thought of you! Engaging, funny, likeable, and very recognisable.
Kelly Bachman: Patron Saint, Assembly Rooms.
Now and again a show comes along that stops you in your tracks because its content is so personal and so painful; but it’s the kind of content that just needs to be told. When someone is the victim of so terrible a crime as rape, it’s not for anyone else to tell that person how they should deal with it. Kelly Bachman has turned her own experiences into Patron Saint, a show that puts rape centre stage, looks at it straight in the eyes, gives it no hiding place, and makes it the butt of its own joke. Her ability to turn this awful crime on its head is not only a way of coping with it, but also of ridiculing it, even demystifying it. Ms Bachman has a superb comic timing and a terrific ability to mine comedy from what one would normally think of as – at the very least – an extremely unfunny subject. I can only suggest you see it yourself and draw your own conclusions.
Thank You So Much For Coming, Underbelly Cowgate.
Cynthia is known for her great parties, and we are invited! It all starts promisingly as we are offered hors d’oeuvres (not that After Eights are really hors d’oeuvres, but that doesn’t matter) and guests find out about each other, and Cynthia even helps a couple of people swap phone numbers. Margaritas are served – although they’re represented by a couple of Barbie Dolls – a member of the audience answers the phone, and it looks like some of the guests are not going to turn up. Donatella Versace is a no-show; Bernie Sanders also disappoints. And then things start getting very messy, apeshit surrealist and 100% bizarre. A good reason for choosing shows at the Fringe is that you’re unlikely to see anything like it anywhere else – and I can confirm you are absolutely not likely to see anything like Thank You So Much For Coming anywhere else. Alex Kern plays Cynthia with true clowning panache; there are elements of absurd theatre, Beckett, even Dada. If you hate this kind of performance, you’d give it one star; if you love this kind of performance it’s a five star. My reaction is in the middle.