Our mate B has come up to enjoy a little Fringe with us. This years offerings seemed a bit desperate when I started looking through mainstream media reviews, lists of deeply worthy shows (The Guardian) deeply soporific shows (The Telegraph) and deeply forgettable shows (The Times). Our friend was far better at finding stuff worthy of our attention. Yesterday was pretty grand.
The Last Laugh is about three well known British comedians having a chat before they are called to the stage. Sounds like the start of a joke and it is; Tommy Cooper, Eric Morecambe, and Bob Monkhouse walk into a dressing room... and the gents talk about the craft of comedy, timing and writing and delivery, success, failure, fame, loss, they tease each other, they perform parts of their acts, musical numbers get involved, lots of laughs of course. Paul Hendry's writing here is so well crafted it's hard to peel it apart without spoilers. The acting is superlative.
But this is not a play that can travel far. It needs an audience who remembers these three to appreciate just how expertly the actors capture the beat of their patter, their facial expressions, the way they move. It recalls a time and a people who are fading away, performers and audience alike, even though the principles are universal anywhere the tradition of stand-up comedy has developed.
It was extraordinary. We might have started this year's Fringe at the top.
Then on to Murder She Didn't Write, an improv whodunnit. Yesterday's creation as made up by members of the audience was The Case of the Victoria Sponge Cake with a Bowl of Keys in it, a murder mystery based around events on the Titanic II reunion booze cruise. I couldn't stop laughing at this ridiculous clever insane thing and was very chuffed when my companion called it 'Debbie As Theatre.' Major compliment, I'll take it.
One cannot understand before watching King Kong with nipple tassels struck down by paper planes, and in fairness one may not understand after watching King Kong with nipple tassels struck down by paper planes, but there's no denying Blues and Burlesque know how to entertain. He sings and plays the electric keyboard. She sings too, dances, gets her kit off; I saw her in the bar at the Voodoo Rooms before the show. She walks on and switches on, electric, amazing. He's an artist and so is she, but she's also a star. Her rendition of Heart of Glass was beautiful. I still don't quite get Burlesque, having basically written it off as pretty stripping, but this was an excellent cabaret act and a great finish to the day.
I am exhausted. We have three shows and a gap big enough for a fourth today. What a lightweight I've become!
The Last Laugh is about three well known British comedians having a chat before they are called to the stage. Sounds like the start of a joke and it is; Tommy Cooper, Eric Morecambe, and Bob Monkhouse walk into a dressing room... and the gents talk about the craft of comedy, timing and writing and delivery, success, failure, fame, loss, they tease each other, they perform parts of their acts, musical numbers get involved, lots of laughs of course. Paul Hendry's writing here is so well crafted it's hard to peel it apart without spoilers. The acting is superlative.
But this is not a play that can travel far. It needs an audience who remembers these three to appreciate just how expertly the actors capture the beat of their patter, their facial expressions, the way they move. It recalls a time and a people who are fading away, performers and audience alike, even though the principles are universal anywhere the tradition of stand-up comedy has developed.
It was extraordinary. We might have started this year's Fringe at the top.
Then on to Murder She Didn't Write, an improv whodunnit. Yesterday's creation as made up by members of the audience was The Case of the Victoria Sponge Cake with a Bowl of Keys in it, a murder mystery based around events on the Titanic II reunion booze cruise. I couldn't stop laughing at this ridiculous clever insane thing and was very chuffed when my companion called it 'Debbie As Theatre.' Major compliment, I'll take it.
One cannot understand before watching King Kong with nipple tassels struck down by paper planes, and in fairness one may not understand after watching King Kong with nipple tassels struck down by paper planes, but there's no denying Blues and Burlesque know how to entertain. He sings and plays the electric keyboard. She sings too, dances, gets her kit off; I saw her in the bar at the Voodoo Rooms before the show. She walks on and switches on, electric, amazing. He's an artist and so is she, but she's also a star. Her rendition of Heart of Glass was beautiful. I still don't quite get Burlesque, having basically written it off as pretty stripping, but this was an excellent cabaret act and a great finish to the day.
I am exhausted. We have three shows and a gap big enough for a fourth today. What a lightweight I've become!
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Date: 2024-08-16 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-08-17 09:10 am (UTC)And a spa too!