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The
Edinburgh Fringe
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Fringe 2009 Reviews (72)Jane Austen's Guide to Pornography Brett, a gay playwright who specialises in steamy sex-filled stories, sets himself the challenge of writing a proper true love story in Victorian England. Meanwhile Jane Austen sits alone ravaged by a fatal illness trying to write her final novel, Sanditon. She finds herself constrained by her past writings and longs to try something a little different. Then she happens upon the idea of writing about a love between two men. Across time the two find their ideas begin to intermingle until eventually they begin to interact. In the midst of this plays out the story of two gay actors meeting at a casting call and embarking on a love affair, the turmoil and events of which are inexplicably linked to the story. Continuing the fine form and excellent comic wit that proved massively popular with last year's Adventures of Butt Boy and Tigger, Steven Dawson here also proves that he can effortlessly twist a tale between comedy and drama and at the same time interlink a story across three time-frames without it seeming contrived or flippant. The one complaint about the play is that the character of Jane seems to come off with very little in the sense of catharsis. Despite this being historically accurate and her most probably a figment of Brett's imagination, it stlll feels like the only incomplete part of the narrative. Despite that, the rest of the show is a giddily funny romp with a sweetly beating heart underneath. Graeme Strachan The Other Side A woman in an Israeli settlement in Gaza dials a wrong number, and finds herself speaking to a Palestinian refugee on the other side of the wall. Rather than hanging up she asks him how he is. And so a simple dialogue starts, which snowballs into a movement as they each pass on the numbers of friends, family members on each side, until thousands of calls across the barrier are being made. This would sound (to me at least) unbearably simplistic, were it not that it is based on true events. Scene's devised piece of documentary-style theatre dramatises the suffering on both sides of the divide, and trumpets the ability of simple communication to bridge the differences and just maybe point the way to peace. It quite rightly does not position itself in any moral camp, passing no judgement on the action of the Israeli settlers or the Palestinian suicide bombers. But it does report in detail the trials of Palestinian refugees who have no access to basic food and healthcare and equally explores their culture of glorifying suicide bombers or "freedom fighters" as one character calls them. Then there are the casually racist jokes of the Israeli conscripts, but they are mocking themselves as they say them. Three actors multi-task endlessly: Katharine Hurst and Kelly Taylor-Smith, playing mothers on either side, give us effective miniature glimpses into family lives soon to be torn apart. The physical elements work well when integrated into the scenes, but the extended sequences in which they create series of walls, rooms, corridors etc using simple configurations of metal frames feel a little indulgent. The music is also slightly too jaunty for the subject matter. But otherwise the play does take its task very seriously, and is admirable for this. Corinne Salisbury Hou Hou Shahou's Chorus of
Descent One of the best-titled shows on the Fringe does not quite live up to its out-there promise, but it's a fine and energetic piece of musical theatre. A motley chorus of washerwomen argue amongst themselves about what causes a person's downfall - whether it is their own doing or whether predetermined. One proposes an exemplary story to the rest, to prove that tragedy is "written in the script" of an individual's life. Hastily they assign parts, don scraps of costume over their aprons and hair-rags, and start to enact the life of poor heroine Ginny Gin Gin. It's a dreadful tale of abandonment by the father of her children, remarriage to an alcoholic, and eventual decline into drink and poverty. Part of the "cautionary" nature of the tale (though this is all very much tongue in cheek) is said to be the danger of succumbing to the corrupting influence of music. I would have liked more of this in fact - drink alone seems to be Ginny's undoing. The play is written in sometimes heavy-handed rhyming couplets but when the company break into music it comes alive and discovers all its lightness and exuberance. They trill a low harmony to accompany each of Ginny's downturns of luck, and when she has a fight with a co-worker (a brilliantly choreographed, Billy Elliot-style whirl of anger), they grab whatever's to hand to create a clattering percussion beat. More music integrated into the plot would have served well. But the staging is very fluid, and sheets of washing strung up and pulled back and forth across the stage is a nice way to flick the scenes along. It's an original story, told well by a very committed cast, though they don't quite get across why exactly they're telling it. But the quality of the musicianship largely sees them through, and makes it a toe-tapping show. Corinne Salisbury |
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