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Fringe 2008 Reviews (109)
Call for the Condemned
WatchThis
Rocket@Demarco Roxy Art House
***(*)
Working in a call-centre is hell, in this case quite literally. Taking
cues from C.S. Lewis' classic epistolary novel The Screwtape Letters,
and very obvious inspiration from BBC television's The Office,
the portrayal of Hell as a busy corporation is amusingly put together
and yet never entirely makes sense, especially as it never touches particularly
on how heaven fits into the scheme of things, nor why Satan and Lucifer
are both featured but are not the same person.
Still besides the curious and bizarrely cumbersome setup, the play
itself is a many-handed delight as the room filled with the seven demons;
each covering a particular sin, and the newcomer Dante, all interacting
and insulting each other whilst trying to convince their unheard callers
to sin.
Running at an hour and a half, the production is a touch on the long
side for what is effectively a short story where the plot doesn't even
rear it's head for at least twenty minutes. At which point Dante is
revealed as an undercover angel trying to prevent an apocalypse. Exactly
how this is going to be achieved isn't clear until later on, and even
then doesn't entirely wash, but the plot is secondary here to the dialogue
and the charismatic performances of the cast. One gripe is that the
Devil is far too obviously modelled on David Brent, and as such never
entirely washes as the great tempter and father of lies. Despite this
the play is an enjoyable romp of sacrilegious fun and is highly enjoyable
as a result.
Graeme Strachan
Creation and All That Jazz
Last Chance Theatre Company
Augustine's
**
While offensiveness is often a virtue in performance, shocking the
audience and engaging in a vibrant debate with deeply-held values, Creation
and All That Jazz shocks simply because of its carelessness. Using
a comic vision of Christian creation myths - Jesus is a CEO, Buddha
his chief designer - they aim for laughs but only avoid seriousness,
making no interesting comments on either human nature or religious thought.
Shoving together Buddha, Jesus, the Grim Reaper and the Ancient of Days
seems like an idea full of potential, but the mismatch of corporate
intrigue, cheap humour and philosophy is exhausted well before the finale.
The cast race along with gusto, milking the laughs and inhabiting their
roles - the Scouse Jesus is amiable, although hardly recognisable as
any version of Christ. There is goodwill in the direction, some sharp
ideas loitering in the script, but the whole thing is tiresomely long
and the jokes are too obvious. Lucifer as a wide-boy who shows regret
for wars, Gandhi as an arrogant designer who is forced to enter the
earth in a desperate bid to save its inhabitants: the lightness of touch
ensures that any thoughtfulness is quickly lost.
Unsatisfying at nearly every level, it would be great as an amateur
production, a church group experimenting with theatre or a youth company's
attempt at devised performance. However, exposed at the Fringe, it lacks
bite, wit and precision.
Gareth K Vile
Apollo/Dionysus
Thedead
C
*
After forty five minutes of unerotic nudity, pretentious intoning,
stilted acting and meaningless retellings of classical myth, I decided
that waiting for my late bus in the pouring Edinburgh rain was more
enticing than another ninety minutes of Apollo and Dionysus.
Now in its third year at the Fringe, with a late night spot and a running
time of two hours, Apollo and Dionysus is a turgid lump of homoeroticism,
masquerading as an intellectual discussion but little more than a sleazy
peep show.
Even when Nietzsche first postulated the polarity between Dionysus
and Apollo, he was abusing an ancient pluralism to make a modern, dualistic
point. This production stretches flimsy dialogue through trite questioning
and bizarre choreography, while the actors hope that slowing everything
down to a glacial pace might give childish statements a seriousness
that they don't deserve. Embarrassing to watch, it raises no interesting
dramatic points or ideas, merely slipping the odd story or wrestle in
between the reciting.
Perhaps a dramatic resolution came in the finale. Perhaps there is
a deeper meaning that I am too stupid to notice. Perhaps the acting
was a deliberate rejection of naturalistic modernity. However, there
was nothing to hold my intention - and when most of the cast were constantly
completely naked, that is quite remarkable.
Gareth K Vile
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