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The
Edinburgh Fringe
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Fringe 1999 Reviews 11Mr Shakespeare Mr Dickens Advertising this as a series of extracts from Shakespeare and Dickens (strange pairing!) really contravenes the Trades Descriptions Act. It is Edward Petherbridge (RSC, NT and many another company) chatting to the audience for a very entertaining hour and a quarter. It's a different show every day, judging from what I've read and heard, for once Petherbridge begins talking, he simply wanders from subject to subject (very stream of consciousness!), fitting in extracts on the way. Certainly the show I saw differed almost totally in its Shakespeare content from the one which the Guardian critic reviewed. Today's show featured Beerbohm Tree (including a magnificent imitation of him doing Antony's "Oh pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth" speech from Julius Caesar based on an ancient recording Petherbridge had come across) and Max Wall - yet another strange pairing, but one which amused and entertained greatly. Other extracts included Lear on the heath and Hamlet instructing the players, and these were interspersed with some reminiscences about meeting the royal family (amongst them an hilariously irreverent decription of a meeting with the Queen), nicely cutting remarks about the RSC and its weaknesses, and a wonderful send-up of Peter Brook's 1968 A Midsummer Night's Dream, complete with spinning plates! The Dickens section - which seemed to be unchanging from show to show - consisted of a gloriously sentimental rendition of what I believe is one of Dickens' short stories, about a Dr Marigold. I've not come across it before, but it out-Nells Little Nell herself for sentimentality. Anyone coming to this show expecting or hoping for insights into either Shakespeare or Dickens will be disappinted. It's not even really theatre, except in the broadest possible sense. It is, however, entertainment of a very literary kind. Petherbridge took (joking) exception to the Guardian critic's use of the word "thesp", but really it is quite justified and not in any way demeaning. I think I'd have used it myself if she hadn't beaten me to it! The audience loved it, and so did I. Car Wow! If you can only see one show this Fringe, this should be it. In his programme note the director talks about a "high octane" script and I can't think of any better word to describe both the script and the production. It is stunning. It's a play about twockers. Twocking - taking (a car) without the owner's consent - is such a common crime that the word TWOC has actually entered the language. Twockers start young: by fourteen many are experts. For some it's youthful wrongdoing which they outgrow and eventually settle down to live normal, law-abiding lives; for others it's the first step into a life of crime, leading to burglary, robbery, mugging, and so on. But what happens when the owner of the car you're twocking tries to stop you, and you think you might have killed him as you drive away? This is the situation faced by the four twenty-something twockers in Car. We see the effect it has on them all, although the concentration is on one who admits to his probation officer what he's done. The probation officer sets up a meeting between the twocker and the victim, who wasn't killed but only suffered minor injuries, and, interspersed with this scene, we see the disintegration of the other three. Put thus simply, there doesn't seem to be much to it, but it is so tightly written and the performances are, without exception, so powerful, that the audience is gripped so firmly that it is like being on an emotional rollercoaster that feels to be always on the verge of going completely out of control. In fact the emotions are out of control, but Chris O'Connell manages the extemely difficult task of directing and redirecting the audience's feelings without losing even the tiniest bit of the impact. It is impossible to separate the performances, to say that A was better than B or C was weaker than D. This is not only an object lesson in writing, but also in direction and acting. It's going to be an almost impossible task for any production to better this one. It received one of the first batch of Fringe Firsts from the Scotsman, and I rather suspect that it will be the only production on which every reviewer will be ageed! Exile The No Limits Theatre Company is aptly named. This is a group of professional performers who have a learning disability. Most are Downs Syndrome sufferers (I know that's the wrong word, but I just can't think of a right one), people whom the well-meaning but ignorant tend to patronise. I mention this, not as any kind of special pleading because the company would be very insulted to think that they need any special consideration, but merely as factual background. This is physical theatre. There is a a narrator who speaks ocasionally, talking to the main character rather than to the audience, but it is primarily a dance/movement piece. It was developed through workshop sessions on the Northumberland coast and was built around themes which emerged from each person's experience - isolation, alienation, manipulation and obsession. From this came the image of a man whose world is turned upside down because of his obsession with his own image and the manipulation of others. It's an effective piece, made more so by the very good performances from Paul Norman as the Man, Helen Smiles as the Temptress and Jane Brown as the Lover. I saw the company's production last year and was impressed by their prowess. Since then they have grown in skills and technique and this stands up as a piece of physical theatre in its own right, regardless of the performers' disability. Kassandra The trouble with devised shows is that they tend to be crystal clear to the devisers but, unless they have an outsider (preferaby a writer) to rework what has been devised, you get a sprawling, obscure piece which leaves the audience wondering whjat the hell is going on! This is a lesson which the Cambridge ADC has not learned. The bafflement of the audience at the end of the show was palpable - a bafflement which, I must admit, I shared. There are some effective moments both visually and verbally, but they were islands in a sea of incomprehension. I really did want to like this piece. Kassandra makes a powerful symbol, the prophetess who really does see the future but who is cursed never to be believed, but this production takes an odd view of her. "Her story is the physicalisation of the power of language," says the programme note, and then goes on, "Kassandra examines the limits of language and bodies as they confront each other over Every-Man's Land." Sounds good, but does it actualy mean anything? The same could be said of the piece istelf: looks good, but does it mean anything? The whole thing cried out for someone to rework it to make it intelligible to outsiders. I have no quarrel with the performers. They flung themselves into the show with commitment, energy, enthusiasm and talent, for they are a talented group with real theatrical skills. It was the material which let them down. Such a shame! Next page - - - Index |
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