Fringe 24: Barbaren Barbies, Chokeslam, Mythos Ragnarok

Let's say that yesterday was our Physical Arts day at the Fringe. It was memorable.

The first thing we watched was in the Udderbelly, an enormous marquee shaped like an upside down purple cow. Incredibly, its positioning in George Square is discreetly hidden by, er, some trees and the rest of George Square. I still have no idea how that works but it does. It was the perfect venue for Barbaren Barbies, A Wild Woman Circus, which hails from Berlin. This is a surreal circus skills act with a lot of buffoonery*, or, to quote B 'wtf was that?' R christened it Monty Python's Flying Women. We all loved the circus skills - a revelation for me as I thought watching two Cirque du Soleil nights had used up my lifetime's big top tolerance - but I had a small caveat; a couple of the sketches could be tightened. Watching it I thought it was a show in development. Turns out I was totally wrong, the Wild Woman Circus has been on tour for a couple of years though this is their first time at the Fringe.

Chokeslam was a quick choice to fill a gap in the day. This was in the Crate which is pretty much two portacabins nailed together, a perfect venue for this intimate one-woman piece. Written by Tegan Verheul, it's about the history of pro-wrestling and the age of attitude, as well as some issues of her own, or to put it in her own words:

'Chokeslam started as a drama school assignment when I was at RCSSD in 2022. We were told to write a monologue about something we're passionate about, so I picked wrestling. [...] People need to know what 'kayfabe' means and why The Undertaker and Mankind's iconic Hell in a Cell match at King of the Ring 1998 is actually a deeply moving piece of performance art that touches on some universal truths. Then I wove in some awkward personal stuff about a devastating breakup because I'm a narcissist.'

She can write, she can perform, she's funny, she's exuberant, she's poignant,Chokeslam is very successful. It was telling that we were still discussing it at 1 am this morning.

Then came Mythos; Ragnarok, the show we were doomed to miss a couple of years back when Mallorys Camera came to visit. That night the lighting rig broke pre-show and the audience were kept waiting on the stairs for so long that time was ticking away for the last train. We had to decamp and after getting a bit mucked about by front of house, I wrote one of the most umbrage-heavy letters of my life demanding refunds. It was the kind of letter to push a Guardianista headlong into those deep wells of guilt found at the bottom of every pint glass in a student union bar. We got the cash back, no problem.

This time Mythos Ragnarok was held in the Gordon Aikman theatre, a very different venue where it turns out that Norse myths are actively enhanced if told through the medium of professional wrestling. Thanks to Tegan I was able to identify an actual chokeslam when I saw one but mostly I spent my time cheering, booing, and oohing as bodies hit the mat. Not always the greatest acting or wrestling but definitely immense fun, my kind of panto, something I could watch every year.


*I would say 'clowning' but that gives an impression of oversized boots and flowers that squirt water. Whatever this was, it was not that.