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The
Edinburgh Fringe
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Fringe 2004 Reviews (49)Third Finger, Left Hand Third Finger, Left Hand is very much a play of two halves, and even has a brief interval between them. It is a play about two sisters, Niamh and Grace, who could hardly be more different. Niamh (Angela Clerkin) is flighty and pretty. She is also everyone's favourite, much to the pain of her sister. Grace, played by Amanda Daniels, is two years younger, fiercely loyal and pays all of Niamh's penalties for her, especially at the hands of their violent Irish father. The first half is a mundane and overly long remembrance of a seventies childhood in Lancashire: lots of Top of the Pops and fish and chips. The key image of the period is the popular dance that develops to Martha Reeves and the Vandellas' titular song. This not only attracts the children but is the only thing in the play that makes their dreadful father smile. Suddenly, the play acquires real depth and agonising truth as, first, the girls' mother, who had been looking after Niamh's illegitimate daughter, Rachel, contracts cancer and dies. Almost immediately, Niamh succumbs to a similarly tragic and painful death. All of this takes a terrible toll of the workhorse, Grace. With its simple set, Third Finger, Left Hand is really effective thanks to good direction from Sonia Fraser and fine acting from both actresses. Philip Fisher The Love-Hungry Farmer This is a real feelgood show. Anyone who has seen it cracks a smile at the memory. The style is determinedly old fashioned but, sadly, it is perfectly conceivable that even today, rural Ireland is not that different from John B. Keane's Killarney. The Love Hungry Farmer is actually a sequel to The Matchmaker, which was such a success in Edinburgh three years ago. This time, Des Keogh is on his own bringing to the stage a version of another of Keane's Letters series. The Love Hungry Farmer has made it to 56 without knowing a woman and is desperate to break his duck. His lonely desperation knows no bounds but despite the assistance of The Matchmaker himself and an unorthodox priest, his luck is not good. A sense of dress that tends towards yellow waistcoats and holed socks held up by suspenders may not be the best way to attract the women, nor is his untrained manner. His finest efforts are thwarted by laughter, a loose woman that even he feels obliged to reject and, best of all, a non-existent bomb. His diligence does him credit but inevitably fails to hit the jackpot. Keane is a wonderful wordsmith on page or stage. His style lends itself to monologues of this type and the team of Keogh and director Charlotte Moore ensure that fun is never far away. Philip Fisher Ashes to Ashes It's slow, but not slow and boring: rather, slow and remorseless. Quintessentially Pinter, in fact. The woman never moves from her chair, set stage left, and the man stands stage right or moves behind her, but the tension still builds, a tension arising from the words. And we are gripped by the menace that comes from the gently spoken man and the fear exuded by the woman. The two actors - nameless, for there is no programme - make excellent vehicles for Pinter's text and the audience leaves at the end with a new understanding, an understanding which is visceral rather than intellectual. Pinter fans will love it: others may well find themselves admiring but puzzled. Peter Lathan |
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