Category: ff2011

The Circus Firemen

The Circus Firemen @ Gluttony (The Bally)

7:00pm, Sun 27 Feb 2011

A few people in whom I have faith had recommended The Circus Firemen to me; arriving to find an odd full-house mix of kids, parents, and young adults left me perplexed: who was the target audience supposed to be, again? The question felt answered mere moments into the show, when the titular Circus Firemen over-acted their way into The Bally, really hamming it up for the kiddies.

And, whilst I certainly appreciate all that had gone before them, I wasn’t really sure I was ready for another kids-oriented circus show.

But, when the Firemen really geed up the kids by promising a five-minute show, plus a twenty-five minute encore – “if you cheer really loud” – and opened with some pretty bloody impressive strength and balance tricks on their fireman’s pole, I changed my tune a little.

And when the “encore” started, I changed my tune a lot – because The Circus Firemen were brilliant.

And, after a comical semi-striptease routine that surprised a lot of the children in the front row, I realised that they were a lot more adult than I had expected. There’s still aspects of their presentation that appeals to the younger crowd – the protracted radio-controlled truck sequence, which managed to turn a feeble piss-joke into comedy gold through magnificent timing – but a lot of the banter was most certainly delivered with a cheeky nudge to the adults.

But their circus tricks, though… oh my. Some great ladder balance tricks, some fantastic pair juggling (mostly clubs, though a mini-chainsaw makes an ominous – and noisy – appearance within the confines of The Bally), and their final trick – involving one of the firemen juggling whilst balancing upside down on the the other fireman, who was suspended halfway up their pole – was amazing. There’s no other word for it.

I was absolutely blown away by The Circus Firemen; for an act that pimps itself as being very kid-friendly, it was cheekily satisfying for this childish adult… and that’s before even considering the astounding tricks that were on display. Angus and Matilda (Joshua Phillips and Idris Stanton) are wonderfully polished, high energy performers who will wind up on any Shortlist I can put them on in the future.

Take Me Back To Paris

Louise Blackwell @ Nexus Cabaret

5:00pm, Sun 27 Feb 2011

After the bliss that was Urban Soundscapes, I was left to muse on why I had initially missed that in The Guide… and yet managed to pluck Take Me Back To Paris out of the Music category? I mean, I adore French cinema, and the accent is lovely, but I know nothing of jazz – or Lou Blackwell. At this stage of proceedings I was definitely starting to second-guess my selection mechanism.

Blackwell performed with The Bruce Hancock Trio (Hancock on piano, bassist John Aué, and drummer Yuri Markov) and, despite looking initially awkward onstage during the solos granted by the jazz style, managed to charm my little socks off. Mid-tempo numbers were separated by Blackwell’s missives from her extensive time spent in France. She talked music – of course – but also waxed lyrical about cinema and food and general street life, delightfully veering en français on occasion (even dropping a gentle tu versus vous joke in there for French thickies like me :)

As mentioned before, I have no real grounding in jazz – but the rest of the sold-out audience seemed to love it. I found it all very soothing: warm, lush notes gently washing over me as Blackwell purred most of the songs in French, and the Trio were suitably slick – but without detracting from her presence. So, all in all, I’d have to say that this pick turned out to be a bit of a success – a little outside my usual fare, but very much appreciated.

Urban Soundscapes

Matsuri Taiko @ Nexus Cabaret

3:00pm, Sun 27 Feb 2011

It’s pretty rare that I go to a show that didn’t make The Shortlist; but, having just seen Unsupervised (and with some time to kill before Take Me Back To Paris), I fired up the Fringe Guide app on the iPhone to check out what was on offer.

Urban Soundscapes, eh? What’s that, then? Taiko? But I love taiko! Why wasn’t this on The Shortlist?

So off I scooted to the Nexus. There’s a decent crowd gathered: so much so that I have to make do with sitting at one of the cocktail tables at the edge of the room. But, once the three women behind Matsuri Taiko started up, position didn’t matter… because every beat of every drum reverberated through my chest.

I’d forgotten just how powerful taiko could be. And I’d forgotten how much I enjoy music that you can physically feel.

Urban Soundscapes was, apparently, inspired by different environments, and as their multimedia screen changed to show soft images within a forest, the drums soften in tempo and power; other instruments play bit parts, too. The screen starts rolling short scenes of dirty urban buildings, and a sense of desperation and menace thumps forth. The correlation between image and sound is handled amazingly well, and it made the performance one of giddy intoxication.

In fact, the only negative – and it’s certainly not a massive downer – was that Matsuri’s collaboration with hard rock outfit 4 Kings Loud didn’t really work – constrained by the rigours of a rock song, the power of taiko was somehow diminished. But that was the tiniest blemish on an otherwise brilliant performance; Masturi’s three performers displayed such poise, strength, and dignity that they’ve almost convinced me to start taking some of their classes…

Unsupervised

Your Other Left @ Gluttony (The Bally)

1:30pm, Sun 27 Feb 2011

It’s a hot Sunday afternoon, and positively sweltering within The Bally for the small crowd that gathered for this school classroom-themed circus event; most of the parents present missed much of the action as they busily fawned over their coddled offspring.

The two female / one male members of Your Other Left barely toyed with the classroom setting, but that didn’t impact the enjoyment of the performance at all; there was some requisite hooping and a lot of decent balance pieces, but more impressive were the throws: the smaller of the two females was swung and tossed with spectacular ease by the other two members. Throughout, the uniform-laden performers carried cheeky (and naïve) grins on their faces – along with painted-on freckles.

And, really, there’s not really that much more to say about Unsupervised. It was competently performed, but the short running time almost felt too short – and the experience was sadly diminished by a sullen crowd. Look up, people.

If You Want Blood

The Vaudevillains @ Worldsend Hotel (upstairs)

11:00pm, Sat 26 Feb 2011

We arrive at the Worldsend a little early… and try our hand at sneaking into the still-running So You Think You Can Get F#%ked Up. Negotiating our way through the velvety curtains, we’re surprised to find two seats in the second row. Seb returns to the stage in his Carlo Cabana role, and – true to form – flicks both of his shoes at my head. How he spotted me in the crowd I’ll never know.

And, sadly, that was the highlight of If You Want Blood for me… the fact that it got me to see a snippet of someone else’s show.

Even though Seb’s show finished a little late, the queue snaking downstairs and around the many corners of the Worldsend were left waiting for ages before entry; no-one else in the crowd seemed to mind, however, and I suspect that’s because this was largely a collection of friends. There was certainly a lot of familiar banter between people in the line and cast members, who periodically cruised the line promising “another ten minutes.” About four or five times. Eventually, around midnight, we were let in… and, completely against our nature, we took a seat at a cocktail table at the back of the room – just behind an optimistic video camera.

It turns out that If You Want Blood is an old-fashioned freak show. There’s self-stapling and razor-blade swallowing. There’s some bizarre pantomime featuring midas-touch plants. There’s a quite decent hoops performance. And the backing band is pretty good.

But, despite the over-the-top nouveau-gore dressing of the production, there’s absolutely no sense of coherency. It’s as if a collection of half-decent freaks coagulated one evening and said “let’s chuck on a show.” It’s not like I was expecting plot or anything, but… it was just one little act following another.

There were a whole bunch of people in that room that loved If You Want Blood. I was not one of them.

Master’s Curious Delirium

Bird Wizdom @ Nexus Cabaret

9:00pm, Sat 26 Feb 2011

Bird Wizdom’s performance in last year’s Fringe was a revelation – great songs, a great band, a wonderful sense of humour, and a wonderful front-woman. And cello.

Unfortunately, this year’s effort misses the mark. Quite considerably.

Let’s start with the good bits first – I still think Anya’s great. She’s got a wonderful voice, a commanding stage presence, and her songs are – overall – really quite clever. And trombonist Doctor Bones tells a truly awful shell story ending with an appalling “Michelle” pun that still makes me smile.

But that’s about it, really. Master’s Curious Delirium lacks the cohesion and self-awareness that made Violet Rapscallion so much fun, and the staging is a bit of a mess. Worse still, despite the fact that I think I saw cellist Melanie Pryor in the opening dance number, there was no cello to be had in the entire performance. Booooo.

Still, the smaller onstage ensemble means that the focus falls squarely on Anya… but I don’t think she can shoulder the weight of the entire performance by herself. Yet. So I left this performance somewhat disappointed, but not discouraged: it will be interesting to see where this songstress goes in the future.

No Blinding Light

Apples and Shoes @ Nexus Gallery

8:00pm, Sat 26 Feb 2011

As a forty-year-old, I reckon I’m on the upper cusp of people who live a large amount of their lives online. Since getting my first e-mail address in 1989, I’ve made plenty of persistent friendships all over the world, and I’ve even taken the opportunity to meet a lot of these people in real life. I truly believe that some of those relationships are as strong as my “local”, real-world friends.

Which makes No Blinding Light particularly poignant to me.

Phoebe Anne Taylor tells the tale of her relationship with an internet-only friend, and it’s a curious device – only being able to tell as much of the story as the other person allows you to see. There’s suicide attempts, a stillborn baby, and much more heartache – but the real power of the work comes when the friend dies, and her online persona gradually disappears.

The production’s fascination with apples and shoes is quirky, but not distractingly so, and accompanying guitarist Adrian Sergovic provides a gorgeous musical backdrop. He even adopts the role of the internet friend at times, and the looks between Phoebe and Adrian are sublime – providing brilliantly timed humour, mixed with a little bit of compassion.

I really enjoyed No Blinding Light – there was a real sense of understanding and compassion in what could so easily have devolved into a treacly, melancholic mess. That they handle the subject so sensitively is a credit to all involved.

Anna Log – Apocalips

Anna Log @ Austral Hotel – The Bunka

6:30pm, Sat 26 Feb 2011

I remember being extraordinarily keen to see one of Anna Log’s three performances… the thing is, I have no idea why. Maybe it was the promise of a “ride into the darkest dimensions of the human soul”, coupled with a quirky, cute-as-a-button photo in the Guide. It’s irrelevant now, but I sometimes like to muse on these things; before- and after-thoughts, or somesuch.

There’s only around ten people in the Bunka by the time Anna takes to the stage, and so I’ve taken my place in the front row… again, ostensibly to provide support to the artist. Unfortunately, the chap I was talking to prior to the show joined me, and would perforate moments of quiet in the performance – of which there were too many – with running commentary in my ear. Which would be fine, except that I was pretty sure it was audible to all and sundry – and my subtle shooshes were obviously not having the appropriate effect.

But as for Miss Anna Log herself… well, she’s quite confident on stage, with a wonderful physical presence and a very easygoing manner. And she loves to get rude, too – there was a wonderful short piece on the latest Jim’s franchise opportunity (Jim’s Abortions), and she picked up her guitar for a brilliant song covering AFL players, gang rape, and homo-eroticism.

The problem is that the big, healthy laughs were far too far apart… and, when there was a bit of dead air (and my friend next to me wasn’t talking), she’d pick up her guitar for a quick song… most of which weren’t really that great. Sure, when she’s explaining how Jesus came inside her, you’ll crack a smile and appreciate the balance of her language, and note how she straddles the line separating clean from risqué; but I wound up leaving The Bunka thinking there was a dearth of quality material ready for the show. A shame, really, because Anna Log’s delivery is really quite appealing.

The Brothers Grimm Spectaculathon

Thomas Goodall (Director) et al @ Star Theatres – Theatre Two

2:00pm, Sat 26 Feb 2011

I arrive at the Star Theatres way too early on a hot, sticky, Saturday afternoon – just as well, really, because I’m still feeling a little achey. Desperate to avoid a bout of the flu – or even a bit of a cold – I scoot across the road and load up on echinacea, vitamins, and water. It may have been too little too late, or it may have been placebo; either way, I scoffed pills and guzzled fluids, and took my place in the most remote corner of Theatre Two.

Of course, being a Saturday matinée, the theatre was absolutely chockers (at least half were tweens or younger) and, as soon as everyone was seated, the show started – five minutes early! Our principal performers (Matthew Parsons and Nick Dooland), introduce us to the premise of the Spectaculathon: they would narrate us through the ensemble’s attempt to perform 209 Brothers Grimm fairytales, based on the original versions of the tales (rather than the Disney-fied versions). And, wooden presentation aside, early efforts were at least interesting: the bogan version of Hansel & Gretel worked pretty well, along with the one-man Cinderella.

But the Spectaculathon is a long performance; it clocked in at well over the nominal ninety minutes, and the children in the audience were distinctly restless both before and after the short interval. In fact, the kids paid scant attention to the Grimm content – until a piranha plant appeared in a backdrop, and a Mario lookalike appeared as one of the Grimm characters. And there’s far more misses than hits in the Grimm re-tellings; I really didn’t see the humour in their Red Riding Hood and Rumpelstiltskin efforts.

The ensemble were solid throughout, erring on the side of being over-earnest, with Alfie Simpson and Nicole Blinco being the standouts. But, despite the almost thrilling ending – where they try to jam in summaries of as many of the lesser-known Grimm fairytales as possible – there’s too much dead air between the laughs… and dead air gives me time to dwell on the deficiencies. And that, in turn, results in me leaving disappointed.

Phlegm Fatale

Amy Bodossian @ Saldechin

11:15pm, Fri 25 Feb 2011

Phlegm Fatale is a bloody great name for a show – a tad confusing, however, when coupled with Amy Bodossian’s coy glance in her promo materials. The link is made at the start of the show, when she wanders coughing and spluttering through the crowd, sneezing on some patrons, wiping her nose on others, before croaking through the titular opening song.

Sadly, that opener was the only really phlegmy reference.

Happily, the rest of Bodossian’s material was brilliant fun. Accompanied by Paul Buckley (on piano, guitar, clarinet, and the occasional vocal foray), Amy danced a thin line between so-quirky-I-want-her-for-myself, to so-sexually-aggressive-that-I’m-scared… but her voice and sense of humour are fantastic throughout. And, given I still have the tissue that she (vigorously) rubbed on her crotch before draping over my face, I think it’s pretty safe to say which side of the line she finished up on.

It’s very much a cabaret performance, with her collection of songs bookended by moments of (bloody funny) audience banter… with a few (blushingly explicit) poems thrown in for good measure. Whilst Bodossian does tend to err on the rude side of life, her digressions into childhood were a delight… and, whilst a far reach for the flu-based theme of the show, the inclusion of Blame It On The Boogie was perfectly pitched, with her own shamelessness and daring coming to the fore.

In short: Amy Bodossian is great. The only negative from the show was that I started feeling a little flu-bound myself as I left Saldechin…

Shylock

Guy Masterson @ Royalty Theatre

9:00pm, Fri 25 Feb 2011

I’ve often professed my love for Shakespeare on this blog… but I have to admit that The Merchant of Venice is not my cup of tea. Every time I’ve attempted to read it, or see some production of it, my attention gets deflected and moves on to something else. I like to think that Bill is talking to me from beyond the grave to let me know that it’s really not worth my time.

Which is nice of Bill, but doesn’t really help me understand the premise of Guy Masterson’s production of Shylock… because I have no grounding in the titular character. But I love seeing Guy’s work, so I slotted this into The Schedule regardless.

And, as it turns out, there was nothing really to worry about. Masterson plays Tubal, Shylock’s (best/only) friend, and from this perspective he is free to discuss all of Shylock’s defining quirks and mannerisms, whilst also justifying them all to some degree. And that’s all very interesting and entertaining…

…but there’s two twists in Shylock. The first is that writer Gareth Armstrong presents Tubal from a time-agnostic perspective, allowing him to speak about Shylock from various historical vantage points (including the little side-note that Hitler loved The Merchant of Venice). And that leads to the second twist… which is more of a central thread.

Shylock is less about The Merchant of Venice than it is about Judaism; the character of Shylock is simply used as a vehicle for the introduction and discussion of Jewish stereotypes. And that’s all very fine and good, but it’s very unsubtle – and that makes the latter half of the play feel a little awkward, veering into the role of lecture.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s still an entertaining show: Masterson, as usual, puts in a convincing performance on a very simple stage. It’s just that Shylock tweaked that part of my theatre-going brain that made me think that it wasn’t giving me enough credit, that it wasn’t allowing me to connect the dots for myself. In a way, it’s playing it safe with the delivery of the message, rather than letting the audience play its part. Or maybe that’s just my problem ;)

Nightminds

The Electric Company @ Cuckoo Bar

6:30pm, Fri 25 Feb 2011

Do me a favour: go back and read the blurb for Nightminds in your well-worn Fringe Guide.

“When it’s 4am and the city seems so far away. The whole world contracts into your pupils. We become giants. We scream shiny happy fits of rage…”

Now, if that didn’t delight and intrigue you, well… I don’t know what to say. Because those words drew me in like a moth to a flame.

Cuckoo was hot and sticky, and with an audience of fifteen it’s nearly a full house. With a flash of light, we’re off: the six characters of Ego, Lust, Destruction, Romance, Nostalgia, and Failure all working each other over, searching out the kinks. There’s strobe sequences, there’s passages where they surround the audience and shout through us to each other… it all feels very vital, very emotionally intimate, and yet the abstract nature of their dialogue keeps us at arm’s length.

We’re thrown out of Cuckoo at the end of the first act as they rearrange the seating within the space, and when we return… wow. The world of Nightminds has gone to hell, and the emotions have ratcheted up several notches. It’s a very dirty, grimy setting, with a distinctly post-apocalyptic feel, and the desperation in the characters relationships is thick and tangible: the threats, the pleading, the pleading threats. A completely unexpected – and extremely sudden – ending is the icing on the cake.

There’s so much to love about Nightminds; the performances (whilst veering towards the shouty end of the spectrum) were uniformly devoted, the staging and costuming a dirty dystopic triumph, and the discordant music (beginning with a gut-rumbling apocalyptic bang) suitably unsettling throughout. It reminded me a lot of some of the Black Lung pieces of 2007; absolutely committed to the art, and all the more rewarding for it. Bravo!

Dating, Daddydom, & Delirium (The Best Things In Life Aren’t Free)

Luke Holt @ Butterfly House

2:00pm, Fri 25 Feb 2011

Comedy with a curious title, a new venue, and matinée timing? Ticket booked.

And then I notice – too late – the phrase tucked away on the right side of his posters… “clean comedy”. And I’m suddenly a little bit wary.

The Butterfly House is a good sized venue: a proper, old-fashioned dance hall, raised stage and wooden floors decked out for cocktail seating. But there’s not much of a crowd on this steamy Friday afternoon – maybe only a dozen punters in all.

An ex-pastor (and current radio host), Holt’s stage presence is really quite affable; he’s comfortable talking to the small crowd in a wide room. And, befitting his “clean comedy” tag, his is a pleasant, inoffensive style; unfortunately, he doesn’t have much quality material.

Opening with a Justin Bieber “weed forever” dig, he awkwardly transitions into his “dating” material – there’s a couple of odd tales regarding stalkers, followed by some requisite audience interaction with a German girl that led to clumsy recollections of his Hahndorf experiences. But the bulk of Holt’s routine is based around his marriage – and it’s largely familiar fare.

But there’s a lull in the room when he discusses the miscarriage suffered by his wife while they were both on-air during a radio broadcast – it’s a touching story, to be sure, but in a comedy show? Subsequent material, mainly around the birth (and introduction) of his son, are pitched more as feel-good, rather than comedy, pieces.

To his credit, Holt doesn’t use his stage as a pulpit, and his set was well-intentioned and delivered with enthusiasm. It’s just that it was incredibly patchy content, and the highs weren’t that high.

CONCRETE:heartbeat

Mark Haslam @ Arcade Lane – Regent One

10:00pm, Thu 24 Feb 2011

The road to CONCRETE:heartbeat was a long and treacherous one, involving much grief on the first attempt, followed by ticket and show juggling and bartering. But, to the Arcade Lane staff’s credit, they were understanding and considerate and eager to correct the sins of the past; when we arrived at the ‘Lane, at least fifteen minutes early, I made a pact with the girl on the door: “I’m terrified of missing the show again,” I explained, “so please come over and tap me on the shoulder when the doors are open.” She did so, with good humour, and so we finally got to see CONCRETE:heartbeat.

And I’m so glad we persevered… because it was brilliant.

In front of a collection of crates and boxes, Mark Haslam lyrically paints pictures of the lives of multiple characters co-existing in an unnamed city: there’s a nurse, an office worker, a child, a busker, a cleaner, and (inexplicably) a roach. There’s a gorgeous sing-song quality to his jammed delivery, and Haslam is clearly right into these characters; an undercurrent of reflective emotions form the bedrock of the performance.

In between characters, Haslam re-arranges the collection of boxes that share the stage with him… a move that initially had me puzzled by its apparent pointlessness. Suddenly I realised that the boxes were used as projection surfaces: little windows of relevant video played while he delivered the character’s description. The backdrop, too, swayed with nondescript – yet evocative – images of citydom. Above the stage, a clock ticks through the twenty-four hours that the show’s content covers, adding a sense of weighty progression to the piece.

Look… I loved CONCRETE:heartbeat. Mark Haslam imbued it with so much heart, so much observed passion, that his wonderfully lyrical delivery brought tears of recognised joy to my eyes. The staging and direction, too, was just beautiful. Sadly, this gorgeous production was almost wasted… because there was a lonely four people in the audience. Four. Such a massive, massive shame.

Pieces of Mind

Simon Taylor @ The Science Exchange (Tower Room)

8:30pm, Thu 24 Feb 2011

Running late, but only hopping from one end of the RiAus building to the other, there’s only a short queue leading into the Tower Room – and, as usual, I try to help the performer out by sitting in the front row. Of course, this comes back to bite me as the room fills out, leaving me sitting prone for “volunteering” at the front of a full room (though it probably only holds about forty people at full capacity).

Simon Taylor looks quietly intense: his tightly buttoned shirt inside power-blue suit is an odd pairing, but you barely notice… because of his scarily dark eyes, and the power they imbue. I suspect that coloured contacts are assisting him in that regard, but the overall effect is that – when he clasps his hands and peers into the audience – you feel like he is looking right through you.

Which, of course, is pretty much the point, as Taylor pitches himself as a mind-reader.

Opening with a few laid-back jokes, he drifted into a little light theory about the human mind – it’s all pretty fanciful, and when I’m yanked out of the audience to demonstrate his first “principle” of mind reading, I inadvertently blurted out the secret behind his “dropped colours” trick. Thankfully, I don’t think anyone noticed, and I was not called upon again.

But he was able to manage some pretty neat demonstrations: getting five people from the audience to draw pictures, then identifying their pictures via body language (or were the cards marked?) was intriguing, and psyching audience members during the cups game was likewise confounding. But there were a few tricks that were also being performed on the other side of town by Ali Cook – coercing two different people to draw the same picture through the power of suggestion, the large number guess – though I much preferred Taylor as a performer; whilst not as exuberant, he was most certainly more personable… and convincing.

Taylor was once, apparently, a psychology student – though I suspect that a large amount of this act is powered by misdirection and suggestion, rather than any amazing science. But he’s a polished (if slightly creepy) performer that kept me guessing long after I’d left the Tower Room… in fact, as I dashed off to my next show, I brushed past him in the corridors of RiAus. I couldn’t help but think he was heading back in to the rest of the audience, announcing “that’s the skeptic out of the way… let’s finish this show off.”