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Fringe Benefits for a First-timer

Midlands Correspondent Steve Orme visits the Edinburgh Fringe for the first time.

"Edinburgh during the Fringe," proclaimed my sister-in-law, "is like Bethlehem on Christmas Eve!"

She was right. Our first experience of Edinburgh's Golden Mile was a thronging, throbbing mass of people who gave the city a vibrant feel which sucked you in and made you determined to enjoy it to the full.

It seemed as though the 1.5million visitors to the city - about three times the size of the population - were all in the same place at the same time. You could have decorated your house with the number of flyers which enthusiastic actors and helpers dished out for the 21,594 performances of 1,541 shows by 668 companies in 207 venues.

The original idea was for my wife, two friends and I to take a cottage 12 miles out of the city, do some walking, visit some of the tourist attractions and take in a couple of Fringe shows.

The reality? We looked around the Royal Yacht Brittania, walked for one morning and spent the rest of the time sampling the delights that the various festivals had to offer.

I didn't go to Edinburgh as a reviewer, so we were able to do whatever we wanted. There's so much to see. Apart from the Fringe, there's the International Festival, jazz and blues festival, book festival, film festival, mela and military tattoo.

The key to the whole experience is: plan what you want to see in advance and book early. The highlight of the week for all of us was Guy Masterson's production of the Reginald Rose courtroom drama12 Angry Men, with a dozen comedians playing the jurors, some of whom had never done a play before. We booked that quite early in the week and were thankful we did.

We should have done that at the book festival. We couldn't get in to see Barry Norman - but we did get to hear a wonderful lecture by the fascinating historian David Starkey and an enlightening talk on War and the Press by William Deedes and Nicholas Rankin.

Comedy also played a big part in our week. Former Perrier Award winner Tommy Tiernan dispelled my doubts about him - I'd laughed only once in his seven-minute spot the previous week on Radio 4 but I laughed throughout his stand-up routine which featured some incredibly funny stories. And we howled through a 55-minute set called Barry Cryer and Ronnie Golden Unplugged. I never knew Barry ventured into "singing" and the comedy routines from this hugely popular veteran are as topical and hysterical as anything else you can see live nowadays.

Other highlights? A funny yet powerful drama, Finding Bin Laden, about a war reporter's dilemma as to whether he should put spin on the Afghan war; School Ties, a little gem we discovered featuring four young women who played the parts of schoolgirls, boys and their teachers; and another Guy Masterson project, a one-man show called Blowing It, featuring New Zealander Stephen Papps which was uncomfortably compelling (I have to disagree with Catherine Lamm's review of this one).

The week went by so quickly we weren't able to take in any Shakespeare and didn't get to see Under Milk Wood in which Guy Masterson played all 69 parts, Fascinating Aida (sold out) nor any of our East Midlands performers.

What we were left with, apart from the vivid memories, was a huge admiration for the tireless enthusiasm of the performers. Not only do some of them do a long stint without a day off, they also have to promote their act which often involves giving free excerpts on the Golden Mile in the hope that people will turn up to watch the whole show.

The downside? I'm not the first to complain about the lack of air conditioning in some of the venues which was almost unbearable. In fact one of the actors fainted in 12 Angry Men.

There also seems to be a snobbishness about the Fringe, with people expecting something different. Why shouldn't Paul Daniels and Bradley Walsh perform there if they want to?

And the black mark of the week went to Peter Stein, director of The Seagull who was working with three of the finest acting talents in this country but didn't inject any pace into Chekhov's great work. He may want audiences to ponder the sub-text and look at what's unsaid rather than what comes out of the actors' mouths, but three and a half hours in the sauna that calls itself the King's Theatre was far too long.

I'm also dreading the thunderous thud when my huge credit-card bill drops like a brick onto the hall mat.

But it was worth every penny. And we've already started planning next year in Edinburgh.

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©Peter Lathan 2003