After Death, All is Dust

Caught up in the bustle of the Fringe, it becomes easy to forget that performers are human and not merely objects on a conveyor belt of entertainment. Hidden behind scripts or choreography, the individual, full of aspirations and  vulnerable, is lost: art devolves to commodity and its worth is defined by the number of stars that it manages to plaster over its poster.

Fortunately, Dusty Limits is too abrasive, too compassionate, to disappear. Post-Mortem was on the Free Fringe: inspired by Limits' preoccupation with death, and animated by his mordant wit, it is a reminder of how cabaret can still be a home to a talent that is too idiosyncratic and sardonic to ever be tamed into light entertainment.

Limits has always advocated decadence as a response to oppression. He describes Post-Mortem as a sort of theatrical obituary in jokes and songs, revisiting past success - the transgendered version of  Portishead's Glory Box and adding new routines - Mr Greedy becomes a bedtime parable for the financially excluded. Yet beneath the throwaway gags about heroin addiction and sexual frustration, the apparent libertine has a fierce revolutionary sensibilty.

While many cabaret artists have a single skill and rightfully push it - Camille can reinterpret songs by rock songwriters in surprising ways, Frank Sanazi blends shock and awe - Dusty Limits proves himself more versatile. He cracks open Bowie's Ashes to Ashes to expose the wounded junkie at its heart: he reinvigorates obscure Weimar songs. He writes songs that meld jaunty vaudeville with astute satire and his comedy routines rage against the oppressive God so often advertised by conservative Christians, the tyranny of the financial markets and idiocy of politicians. He is astute like a stand up but, surprisingly for a man who seems to celebrate his egotism (his idea of audience participation is to ask and not listen), lacks the monomania of the comedian.

It's easy to forget that performers are human, and easy to forget that entertainment can be political, engaged, even theological. Limits, the joker with the hysterical face, brooding then cheeky, possessed of a voice that charms angels and summons demons, embracing the spirit of Weimar cabaret without descending to pastiche, stand proud in his persona that cannot help but expose his humanity.

Exit Stage Left

Being a painfully arrogant pseudo-intellectual who loves theatre that is self-referential and scathing of mainstream populism, Exit Stage Left is a dream come true. A new piece of theatre which mocks celebrity and ego-driven theatre, it has already been getting awards in South Yorkshire: co-writers and directors Paul O'Farrell and Ben Smithard are risking it all on heading to the Fringe. And they promise both tragedy and laughter...

"Exit Stage Left puts its audiences through a range of emotions from the brutal rarity of a hit and run to the almost farcical recreation of it by the 'theatre group' within the play," says O'Farrell. "When we debuted it in Sheffield, audiences were left taken aback by what one reviewer described as memorable scenes. Its fast paced, edge of the seat stuff and is performed by some exceptionally talented young actors. Some of our audiences said it made them question their responses to theatre by exposing some of the devices performers and shows use. We liked that."

The Ecco Theatre Company is made up of students and ex-students from a single Sheffield school, and has a clear agenda: new works by new talents. The Fringe makes sense as a focus for the company's ambitions: "Both Ben & I  are both regular attenders at the Fringe as audience and we love the atmosphere. It's the biggest festival in the world and that prospect of seeing something a bit special is incredible. The lure of putting our own work on was too much to resist," explains O'Farrell. 

There are two parts to the play: a tale of a fatal car crash, and the attempts by a bunch of crap actors, including a faded star. to translate it into drama. The potential absurdity of taking a real life horror and forging a tragedy is played up, and it allowed the writers to consider some trenchant themes.

"We wanted to use the mask of celebrity to explore what really interests us," he continues. "Drive & ambition. What will someone do to get what they want?" Going on to explore the world of celebrity culture, the price of fame and the consequences of our decisions, Exit Stage Left is a mordant glance at how reality rarely matches the glimmer of the glamour. 

"Celebrities are everywhere. We - as a society - can seem obsessed with them but what goes on beyond that shiny, glittering surface? We wanted to explore the cost of fame, of ambition."

Greenside Theatre (Venue 231)

 3^rd – 5^th Aug (Preview) 6^th – 18^th Aug 

17:20pm (85mins)

                       

'I Heart Hamas: And Other Things I'm Afraid to Tell You'

As I have probably said far too many times, I don't do comedy, and even have a slight resentment at the way that comedy dominates the Fringe. It's not a reflection on the comedians themselves - although I fear that there is a trend for some unpleasant opinions to be bandied about under the excuse of "it's just a laugh" - but on my own desire to be punished by Serious Ideas whenever I enter a theatre.

Then again, I once reviewed Kunt and the Gang. And loved it.

Jennifer Jajeh's monologue, however, has the sort of title I can get behind: I Heart Hamas: And Other Things I'm Afraid to Tell You. Not that I can even begin to articulate an opinion on the Palestinian question (I struggle to understand the local council question). I just like the controversy it is likely to cause.

The set-up is pretty theatrical too: "It's a tragicomic solo show that weaves together humour, live theatre, multimedia and pop culture references," Jajeh says. "It was inspired by my move to the West Bank town of Ramallah in June 2000 where I watched the Intifada unfold over the next year and a half. When I came back and explained to my friends how we’d sneak out for pints and to underground parties while dodging tear gas canisters and gunfire, they urged me to start writing it down."

Since my knowledge of Palestine comes from the work of David Greig, Jajeh's reasons for the show strike a chord. "My show deals with the intersection of my Palestinian and American identities and what’s happening on the ground in Palestine in a comedic, provocative yet thoughtful way," she continues. "It’s a first person perspective we aren’t seeing in the media or the arts, and I think people are hungry for a fresh, very candid, female take on the issues."

And unlike much of the Fringe, I Heart Hamas is a seasoned production, not a new show that, frankly, could be anything. "For the past 10 years, I’ve had the pleasure of working as an actor, writer and producer in theatre and film on many inspiring projects; however,  touring this show for the past 5 years has truly been the highlight," she recalls. "It's allowed me to engage with live audiences in very immediate and satisfying ways, challenging my perspective and opening up conversations that people have been afraid to embark on publicly."

"The Fringe affords an opportunity to not only get my work out to a European audience who I think will resonate with my sensibilities, but also to gain wider exposure and support for the stories I’m seeking to tell. Plus, I’m a huge fan of Scotch whiskey."

Gryphon Venues at the Point Hotel (#109)
20:35 (21.55)
2-5, 7-11, 14-18, 21-25 August 2012

JackinaBox

Jackinbox are a young company - last year was their first Fringe - but they are backing up their vision of energetic theatre with two shows for 2012 that are full of intensity and passion. 99.9 Degrees is presumably an allusion to the moment before the water hits boiling point, and Moliere's Don Juan suggests that there's life in the old fox's tales of seduction yet. John Askew took some time to explain how he hopes that Jackinabox can survive the Fringe, and bring those predictable promises to life.

In all honesty the Fringe doesn't present the greatest environment for performers. The late night social aspects, the 10 hours flyering, and the want to see as much as you can makes it difficult to perform to the highest standard every night. It takes much more stamina than a normal 30 night run, both vocally and physically. So in that its a challenge. But one which is achieved by thriving on the atmosphere, being more creative and experimental than ever with both the show and advertising, and ultimately the adrenaline of the festival is something which is very addictive.  Everyone who does the full run of the fringe will find that the first week in September is almost a right off - you crash hard. 

The approach taken to the shows have been very difficult. Don Juan is a text based approach used when creating work in the past, whereas 99.9 Degrees is something created from character driven Physical Theatre, Improvisation and Devising. Because the approaches have been very different, they two shows ultimately say different things about the company. 99.9 Degrees has been worked using an approach we have wanted to use for a long time. Essentially being playful with theatre, and with no constraints we have created something which is very free and often catches the audience off guard. Don Juan suggests the company's commitment to text. Commitment in a way that allows us to put our style on an old legend, presenting this hedonist in a way we don't think anyone else has done. 

The festival itself has had a big influence on our work this year, from some if the things we saw last year. You can afford to be very different in Edinburgh, and designing work for the Fringe audience is very different from designing work for touring. That's not to say we have undermined our work in anyway, but we have created two one hour long shows perfect for the fringe audience. Young contemporary theatre has played a big role in our development so far, in that we are aiming to create work that catches the audience off guard, entertains them, and ultimately gets them to think about how theatre should be presented. In that, we look to develop either told work in a very different way, or create completely new work from our own experiences. 99.9 Degrees for example is based around memories, memories which stem from the casts experiences.  

For us it isn't a case of physical theatre fitting in. We see physical theatre as synonymous with the text, in that it is just another given circumstance (directed or choreographed movement) that the character must feel completely natural doing. We often work with layers. So the first layer is the movement, the second layer is the relationship between these characters and how that contributes to the movement, and the third layer is how the character influences the movement. When choreographing, we often start with the gesture, enlarge it into more 'elaborate' movement, and then its stems from something natural in that character. Personally I think there is nothing more exciting that explosive physical theatre, because it allows you to look at emotion, relationship, and exploration of character in a very different way. One in which each audience member can take something different from it.  

The audience can expect theatre full of those cliche buzz words - engaging, exciting, unique even? In total honesty they can expect to be entertained, and see things that they will remember amidst the wealth of great theatre at the Fringe. They will be challenged as to how they think theatre should be, and won't for a moment be thinking about anything else than what is happening on the stage. Holly Kendrick (ISDF) told me last year that the most engaging theatre 'gets off the train'. Its logical but it isn't what the audience expected to happen. That is very much about what Don Juan and 99.9 Degrees are about.       

Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2012 

1st - 27 August

C eca

'99.9 degrees' 17.30 (1h)

'Don Juan' 18.45 (1h)