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Fringe 2008 Reviews (50)

The Gymnast
The Empty Space and Jane Arnfield in association with Northern Stage, Newcastle
Pleasance Courtyard
**

Jane Arnfield’s Northern Stage collaboration, an ode to the fall of Cambodia into Khmer Rouge hands in 1975, has the potential to be something great. The ingredients are all there: a month spent in research at the Documentation Centre of Cambodia, Arnfield’s strength and agility as a physical performer, and Arts Council funding which no doubt contributed to designer Neil Murray’s beautiful temple-like wardrobe which dominates the back of the stage.

Unfortunately, Arnfield seems lost in her own depths of research, and assumes a tremendous amount of knowledge about the situation from her audience. Instead of weaving historical narrative into the piece, or even a bit of background information, the chaotic vignettes and flitting characters are alienating in their brevity and knowing reference. I still have no idea who the black VIP whom Auntie Jean calls Eisenhower is.

At first Arnfield’s brutal energy, which reveals itself in agitated running and repetition of gesture, drives her performance, but after a while a creepy sarcasm sets in and it’s hard not to feel patronised. Gestures like handing out spoons (earlier Arnfield has told us that spoons and bowls were the only personal possessions permitted under the Pol Pot regime) while repeating the date 17th April 1975 and use of Shylock’s ‘hath not a Jew eyes’ speech, replacing ‘Jew’ with ‘Cambodian’, smack of the kind of fringe theatre lampooned on films like Annie Griffin’s Festival.

We leave knowing nothing, feeling inadequate for it, and frustrated with what could have been.

Lucy Ribchester

Banterbury Tales
Your Theatre Company
Sweet Grassmarket
****

In a Fringe which vacillates uncomfortably between the amateur and professional, Banterbury Tales is charmingly unpolished and engagingly experimental. Less a narrative than a series of rough-edged performance poems, it showcases the words and recitation skills of Joseph Santosuosso and Ryan Stevens. Even if the match of theatre and beat poetry isn't perfect, this is a confident work that is willing to explore the potential of language.

Santosuosso gets to play the bad guy. His words are vicious, cynical, a rush of half-remembered clichés twisted to a hip-hop aesthetic and a dark humour. The music, which never threatens to swamp the words but is more suggestive ambience, alludes to the poetry's roots in the Beats, jazz and rap, setting the scene for the action in bars and on street corners. At times, the rush of imagery and set-phrases can be sentimental or predictable: this is quite acceptable in hip-hop but can be awkward in a less aggressive context. His persona, Santo the dirty saint, is well sustained, making this more than just unrelated sketches. He is unrepentant, dirty, cynical yet honest: the perfect blend of macho and sensitivity.

Stevens is the sensual moon faerie - although her erotic passages are far more shocking than Santo's machismo. Flipping between bad-girl heat and hippy girlishness, her persona balances his rugged masculinity. Within this stereotype, she does find real pathos, doubt and confusion, exploring the darker sides of sexuality.

Banterbury Tales is not strictly theatre- most of the sketches would stand up alone, and some of the exchanges would work well in cabaret or burlesque. Their sheer force of will moves the show along at a steady pace, and the refusal of cheap audience participation gives them a harsh determination. The poetry itself is powerful and imaginative, working at the boundaries between the beat and the beat-box. There is something interesting happening in this meeting of media.

Gareth K Vile

The Highwayman
The Curious Room
C cubed
***

As the audience enters Bess the landlord's black-eyed daughter is plaiting a love-knot into her long black hair. She waits for her love, the Highwayman, to come to her secretly in the night. Writer Bahar Brunton adapts Alfred Noyes famous poem of Bess and the Highwayman. Brunton makes Tim, the jealous ostler, central to her story - in this production it is Tim who tells the King's Men of the Highwayman's love and so begins the tragic ending of their clandestine affair. Using a ladder for Bess' window and minimal props, this budget production has few frills. Spoken essentially in verse, Noyes lovers will enjoy this romantic adaptation, despite a slightly petulant Bess.

Cecily Boys

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©Peter Lathan 2008