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Fringe 2008 Reviews (73)
New World Order
Gilded Balloon Teviot
****
Ryan J-W Smith’s one-man show, sharply scripted in blank verse,
takes as its title a phrase that has acquired a sinister resonance in
recent years. With much of his material echoing films like Zeitgeist
and Loose Change, he presents a conspiracy theory of the US government
in a quest for world domination, whatever the human cost.
The framework of Smith’s critique takes two Shakespearean archetypes,
the Fool and the King, and weaves a tale of villainy and deceit of truly
epic proportions. It’s an admirable feat, and currently stands
as one of the nominees for the Amnesty International Freedom of Expression
award, of which the shortlist will be announced on 19th August. Smith’s
text puts Bush’s actions in the context of historical and fictional
megalomaniacs playing a cold, strategic game. Meanwhile the Fool is
a proletarian figure, confused by the struggle for patriotism and goodness
within him, questioning if sex and Hollywood are simply propaganda sent
to control us. The heightened nature of the verse lends both an abstract
context and a poetic resonance to his treatise.
Smith makes a good case for the conspiracy theory of 9/11, to such
an extent that the audience begins to chuckle at the obviousness of
it all. But it would be interesting to see if someone not familiar with
the theories doing the rounds theories which earlier this year
put Oscar winner Marion Cotillard in hot water for vocalising them
would be convinced, as the details whizz past in rhyming couplets. In
some ways perhaps he is preaching to the converted. On the other hand,
every dissenting voice, whether accurate or not, should be commended
for its courage, and it’s clear from Smith’s honest, gritty
delivery and on-stage tears that this is an issue extremely close to
his heart.
Lucy Ribchester
Crossing the Rubicon
Nottingham New Theatre
C soco
***
"Eight and a half thousand kids end up in hospital every year
due to alcohol," the jaded policeman tells us. And Crossing
the Rubicon is one such story. While Jack's story may be one of
a fairly average disconnected youth, he doesn't even get as far as the
hospital. He was found in a ditch, starring at the sky, having choked
on his own vomit.
Nottingham New Theatre tell this story in pieces. We hear from Jack's
girlfriend, his sister, his friends and his parents, and all tell of
a boy that they never really fully knew. His girlfriend concludes, "Who
knew what Jack thought or felt?" It is only at the very end that
Jack speaks and concludes the tale reflecting on his aversion to "vocalising
grief and conspicuous sorrow." Although this moral tale is not
groundbreaking Nottingham New Theatre present a well directed piece
with pointed performances.
Cecily Boys
Mr Gong's Hair Salon
Daegu City Theatre Company
C Central
****(*)
Once upon a time Mr Gong was the hippest, the coolest and the most
celebrated hair stylist in town, winner of the Grand Prix at the National
Hair Stylists Championships. But that was back in the '70s; now he's
middle-aged and his salon is empty…well, not quite. His apprentice
is a dreamer, his dog steals all the biscuits, the neighbourhood kids
run amok and the local crooks exhort protection money. All he can do
is watch football with his best friend Mr Cho and try to keep the dog
Walwari and the love-sick Siyoung in line.
This simple plot is a hook on which to hang an hour and fifteen minutes
of fabulous masks, fun and physical comedy. A multitude of characters
are brought to life by four energetic and accomplished performers, who
play with the audience, dream of better days and, of course, defeat
the bad guys in a dynamic, action-packed finale.
Mr Gong's Hair Salon is an enormously enjoyable show for young
and old. It's a touching and heart-warming tale, full of comic diversions,
bursting with life and innocent good fun. The company engage the audience
with the action: the dog who steals the biscuits has to get children
in the audience to unwrap them for him; a character hides among the
spectators, disguising himself with borrowed belongings; we are given
chocolate and orange juice and bananas for guessing what they are called
in Korean (chocolate, orange juice and bananas is the correct answer!).
The full-head masks transform the actors into about thirty characters:
a Viagra salesman, a lunatic with a time-bomb, a slapstick policeman,
the Samurai warriors from Siyoung's kung-fu daydreams, a crazed football
referee and many more career across the stage and often through the
audience too.
Mr Gong is a celebration of life itself, of the dreams and aspirations
of ordinary folk, their troubles and their triumphs, of friendship and
togetherness. In an age of cynicism and materialism, we need more of
this type of theatre to remind us that love and laughter matter.
Jackie Fletcher
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