Yes, I know there’s only two days left of the 2017 Fringe – but I can’t resist mentioning our Friday Fringing, this time at Theatre In The Round. Perhaps one of these will get your attention and you’ll find they still have a show left.
We started with the Mercury Ninety Productions showing of Hello, I Must Be Going …, a play which purports to throw some light on the final chapter of Groucho Marx’s life, his secretary/manager/girlfriend, Erin Fleming, and his allegedly ungrateful children. Along the way I suppose it could have raised questions concerning the family dynamics which left Groucho with a secretary and no loving family, but this play didn’t really go there. In fact, it was more of a showcase for the actors than anything else, and left me wondering about the motivations of producing such a show. The actors were more than competent, and it was well composed and played, but I was nonplussed at the end.
The second show of the night was Lettres et Café, by Bad Mime Productions. A slice of life about a community of small business people in post-war Paris, and their fight for survival in the face of a rebuilding committee’s decision about their sector of their beloved city, it follows in particular the lives of two coffee shop workers and how their lives are intertwined far more than they might guess. This show is an atypical Fringe show for two reasons: first, it’s far more polished than your typical effort. Clearly well-rehearsed, with a good focus on how it should appear in the space provided by Theatre In The Round. Second, the story is really quite conventional, with no supernatural entities, fourth wall breakage, or any of that sort. Not that it’s entirely predictable, but in the end we did feel it was not as surprising as many shows. This is not bad; I appreciate a well done show. The Fringe is about being different. Difference is all about context, and in that respect, Lettres et Café achieves difference from the rest of the Fringe. Recommended.
As good as was Lettres et Café, I fear it was outdone by the next show, Fruit Flies Like a Banana: WORLD TOUR, by the Massachusetts-based ensemble The Fourth Wall. Composed of comedic improv, classic musicianship, and some mild gymnastics, this group of three (with a single appearance by a fourth, who might have been a guest artist) is made up of a flutist, a bass trombonist, and a percussionist, all of whom, my Arts Editor tells me, are consummate musicians. We saw them last year; this time around they had taped the names of locations on a beach ball of a world globe, and the piece consisted of them throwing the ball into the audience, where the member who caught it could pick one of those locations, and then the ensemble would perform a piece of music with some connection to the location. Along with the music, they also performed various … I shan’t say gymnastics, but sometimes their musicality was amazingly mixed with their physical movements. Add in some off-the-cuff and exquisitely timed humor between the pieces, and this was a memorable show. Several of their pieces impressed me, including the music of Antarctica. Recommended.
Equaling Fruit Flies in sheer enthusiasm was Swords & Sorcery: The Improvised Fantasy Campaign by Bearded Men Improv. Never did Dungeons & Dragons? Neither did I. Apparently this is how it’s done – and if the players are not polished performers, at least they sure love their subject. The dice may control their fates, but they control their own ‘tude on the stage of the game. It kept us in stitches.
We finished the evening with To The Quick: A trio of short plays that cut deep, by Diva G Productions. The three plays ask questions, but you must provide the answers. The first is a bit of a fluff piece concerning those jumpy, lurking questions about teenage sexuality, and whether or not her lips are more alluring – or the red-hair badger’s. The second dives deeper into how the death of a loved one will affect someone too tightly clinging to that existence. The third asks whether the paraplegic woman is really badly injured – or just pissed off at the world. The stories were, I believe, composed for the Fringe, and they are wise in that they withhold information, giving it out slowly, and keeping the audience interested along the way. All interesting, possibly more hesitant and less self-assured about the answers to the questions. And that’s what art can be about – asking questions without providing answers. It’s a thin, jagged line, in that sense. Art should illustrate the potential results of choices – but dictation of choice ruins art. As ever, we need to be aware of choices we make, and think of consequences when making them.
I hope you have the time to go Fringing, if not this year, then perhaps next year.
