Skip to main content

Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2015 Theatre Reviews 6 - The History of the World Based on Banalities - Summerhall - Three stars / Light Boxes - Summerhall - Four stars / The Christians - Traverse Theatre - Three stars

A young man plays bat and ball in a messy kitchen at the opening of The History of the World Based on Banalities Johan De Smet and Titus De Voogdt's new play produced by the Koppergeitery company as part of this year's Big in Belgium programme. Without a word being said, notions of velocity and gravity are being proffered up in this most everyday of exercises. When the boy played by De Voogdt starts talking to the audience, about his scientist mother who's lost her bearings through Alzheimer's disease, such a sense of his own isolation sparks up a curiosity that finds voice through a series of free-associating quantum leaps that fall somewhere between alchemy and idealism.

Accompanied by a hooded electric guitarist who skulks behind the fridge freezer twanging out some dust-bowl laden dirges, De Voogdt's character acts like he's home alone as he embraces new liberties en route to reclaiming his affinity with his mother from the totems left behind even as she slips further away from him. It's a deceptively poignant piece possessed with low-key depth accentuated by De Voogdt's perennially optimistic seeker after truth.

Runs until August 14

It is the bleakest of mid-winters in Light Boxes, Finn den Hertog's impressionistic version of Shane Jones' already fantastical novel, rendered here in Den Hertog's own production for site-specific auteurs Grid Iron as the grimmest of twenty-first century fairytales. Here the month of February has taken over, and even paper aeroplanes have been grounded in a place where flight is no longer allowed. For balloonist Thaddeus, his wife Selah and their daughter Bianca, a cold pervades the purity of their homespun topsy-turvy world. Rebellion is coming, however, as an army of animal masked insurgents set about getting airborne again just as Bianca is lost to the elements.

There's a gorgeous sense of hand-knitted magic to Den Hertog's production, from the way the cast of Melody Grove, Keith Macpherson and Vicki Manderson split the narrative between them as if telling a bedside story for dystopian times, to the way they play fiddle and junkyard percussion to accompany Michael John McCarthy's live backwoods slow-core score.

Karen Tennent's set engulfes the stage with an upside-down world of magical-realist abstractions which the vintage-apparelled family must navigate their way through in a way that is brutally unsentimental in its willingness to sacrifice lead characters. Whether as a metaphor for mass Seasonal Affected Disorder or for the effects of an authority who would rather keep their charges in the dark, Den Hertog and co have produced a living parable of just how hard it is sometimes to come blinking into the light and take flight.

Runs until August 30

Faith and what it means to believe are put under scrutiny in The Christians, American writer Lucas Hnath's play which receives its UK premiere in a production by London's Gate Theatre. Set in a mock-up of a real life church, as with any holy communion, it's easy to be suckered into a revivalist vibe by the sheer elation of community choir, Song Works, who open the show. Once William Gaminara's Pastor Paul introduces the play proper with a prayer and a sermon that marks the beginning of the end of his kingdom.

Flanked by his associates, his elders, his wife and, most crucially of all, his congregation, Paul's progressive suggestion that Hell might not exist is a calculated risk that doesn't exactly go down well. As assorted dissenters take the microphone to speak in turn, the play's construction is closer to Greek tragedy than the pulpit.

Rather than the church per se, this could be parliament or any other hierarchical constructions based on ideology. Although he's left with nothing, Paul and his wife, played by Jaye Griffiths, may be saved yet.

Runs until August 30

The Herald, August 20th 2015


end










Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Losing Touch With My Mind - Psychedelia in Britain 1986-1990

DISC 1 1. THE STONE ROSES   -  Don’t Stop 2. SPACEMEN 3   -  Losing Touch With My Mind (Demo) 3. THE MODERN ART   -  Mind Train 4. 14 ICED BEARS   -  Mother Sleep 5. RED CHAIR FADEAWAY  -  Myra 6. BIFF BANG POW!   -  Five Minutes In The Life Of Greenwood Goulding 7. THE STAIRS  -  I Remember A Day 8. THE PRISONERS  -  In From The Cold 9. THE TELESCOPES   -  Everso 10. THE SEERS   -  Psych Out 11. MAGIC MUSHROOM BAND  -  You Can Be My L-S-D 12. THE HONEY SMUGGLERS  - Smokey Ice-Cream 13. THE MOONFLOWERS  -  We Dig Your Earth 14. THE SUGAR BATTLE   -  Colliding Minds 15. GOL GAPPAS   -  Albert Parker 16. PAUL ROLAND  -  In The Opium Den 17. THE THANES  -  Days Go Slowly By 18. THEE HYPNOTICS   -  Justice In Freedom (12" Version) ...

Edinburgh Rocks – The Capital's Music Scene in the 1950s and Early 1960s

Edinburgh has always been a vintage city. Yet, for youngsters growing up in the shadow of World War Two as well as a pervading air of tight-lipped Calvinism, they were dreich times indeed. The founding of the Edinburgh International Festival in 1947 and the subsequent Fringe it spawned may have livened up the city for a couple of weeks in August as long as you were fans of theatre, opera and classical music, but the pubs still shut early, and on Sundays weren't open at all. But Edinburgh too has always had a flipside beyond such official channels, and, in a twitch-hipped expression of the sort of cultural duality Robert Louis Stevenson recognised in his novel, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a vibrant dance-hall scene grew up across the city. Audiences flocked to emporiums such as the Cavendish in Tollcross, the Eldorado in Leith, The Plaza in Morningside and, most glamorous of all due to its revolving stage, the Palais in Fountainbridge. Here the likes of Joe Loss and Ted Heath broug...

Carla Lane – The Liver Birds, Mersey Beat and Counter Cultural Performance Poetry

Last week's sad passing of TV sit-com writer Carla Lane aged 87 marks another nail in the coffin of what many regard as a golden era of TV comedy. It was an era rooted in overly-bright living room sets where everyday plays for today were acted out in front of a live audience in a way that happens differently today. If Lane had been starting out now, chances are that the middlebrow melancholy of Butterflies, in which over four series between 1978 and 1983, Wendy Craig's suburban housewife Ria flirted with the idea of committing adultery with successful businessman Leonard, would have been filmed without a laughter track and billed as a dramady. Lane's finest half-hour highlighted a confused, quietly desperate and utterly British response to the new freedoms afforded women over the previous decade as they trickled down the class system in the most genteel of ways. This may have been drawn from Lane's own not-quite free-spirited quest for adventure as she moved through h...