Author Archives: Charlotte Smith

Culture Clash

As the international festival opens, I’ve been pondering cultural differences.

Edinburgh International Festival caused a little controversy by accepting money from the Chinese government this year. ‘Festival under fire for China’s key cash role’ is the headline in The Scotsman today. It reports that human rights organisations have criticised the organisers in the wake of China’s crackdown on dissidents such as Ai Weiwei.

This year’s programme has a focus on Asia, particularly China, India, Indonesia, Japan, Korea and Vietnam. Festival director Jonathan Mills notes that these countries’ economic importance and artistic influence are growing by the year. Programme highlights include the National Ballet of China, Ravi Shankar, adaptations of One Thousand and One Nights and Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, as well as The Tempest in Korean and King Lear in Mandarin. (That’s not to mention music including Mahler, Strauss, Handel, Ravel, Steve Reich, Philip Glass…)

Of course, Total Theatre concentrates on the Fringe not the International Festival. But there are still questions about our subtle cultural preferences, diversity and conformity. The fringe can be both wonderfully international and surprisingly waspish (wasp being ‘white Anglo-Saxon Protestant’ in this context, if that’s not too derogatory…)

So far this year, I’ve seen shows from Colombia (Urban), Italy (Sans Mots), Ireland (Man of Valour), Scotland (The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart) and the Czech Republic (La Putyka). The last one, set in a bar, offered free beer in almost a parody of Czechness. Their sign in the photo says ‘no credit’, along the lines of those in pubs here saying ‘Please do not ask for credit because refusing may cause offence’.

Total Theatre does have a record of supporting international companies, such as Ontroerend Goed (Belgium), Akhe Engineering Theatre (Russia) or New International Encounter (who have offices in Cambridge and Oslo and core performers from Norway, Great Britain, Poland, Czech Republic, Belgium, Spain, Denmark and France).

However, among the young UK theatre companies at the fringe, there’s often a relatively low proportion of black and minority ethnic actors and a high proportion of white middle-class thespians. Of course, this is my impression, not an exact statistical survey. I’m open to corrections and clarifications, or worse. But a significant number of international companies does not necessarily mean diversity closer to home.

When assessing for the Total Theatre Awards, we’ve been advised to double-check our assumptions and taste. It’s not always easy. For example, what might seem like a pastiche of Americana could be a bold, brave artistic statement in some contexts. At the time, a show may be a bit perplexing, avant-garde but years later it stays in the brain as an underappreciated innovation. All you can do is try to keep an open mind, otherwise the situation becomes self-reinforcing. Answers on a postcard, as they say.

The Corn Exchange: Man of Valour

An office worker transforms into an action hero in this energetic physical production by the Corn Exchange, Dublin. Think The Secret Life of Walter Mitty meets Hitchcock’s The Lodger meets the latest SF blockbuster or fantasy computer game.

The juxtaposition of inane chit-chat and life-or-death fights provides plenty of humour. The humming of the photocopier becomes the buzzing of a fly, and before you know it the imagination has taken off. Black-and-white film footage and shadow effects help create sinister other worlds.

Some recurring scenes do provide a non-linear narrative to explain the character’s inner demons. There’s the time when his father announces while fishing that his mother has ‘gone to a better place’. ‘Another hospital?’ Asks the boy. His dad tells him to kill the fish quickly to put it out of its misery. A letter entrusted to an army friend with his ashes suggests the father later committed suicide.

Another thread seems to be the protagonist’s fear of ‘Roscommon’. Various interpretations are possible, but I understood this as an office move, perhaps that the traumatised employee had to change his Dublin desk and commute to a decentralised location, complete with cows.

The mime is manic, and performer Paul Reid puts in a marathon performance. For an hour and a half, you see not only sophisticated movement, complete with death-defying action sequences and bullets ricocheting around, but also the growing sweat marks through his suit and make-up.

Arguably, the piece is a little too long. The reprises were enjoyable and perhaps my attention span has been Fringified, but the structure could have been tighter. The combination of soporific heat during an afternoon performance and the continuous onstage feats was gently uncomfortable. A few parts, such as tube or train travel, were a bit clichéd. And although the performer was making an effort to play to the sides of the auditorium, the direction could seem wrong for the space, with the projections less suited to a thrust stage.

Man of Valour is touching, amusing, deft and ostensibly daring. It does have weaknesses and could drag. Perhaps there’s also something safe now about moving the much-loved festival monologue in Traverse Two into the physical theatre sphere. However, its story of struggle behind a supposedly humdrum office routine was conveyed in style through mime.

www.cornexchange.ie

Little Cauliflower: Street Dreams

From the opening sequence of Street Dreams it’s clear that this is puppetry with conviction. Fluffy white bags (birds, clouds, kites, ra-ra skirts?) fly rapidly across the stage. The same energy is felt when banana skins buzz into action.

In contrast, the story of Street Dreams is meandering. A gentleman puppet with a gently quizzical expression wanders through a littered street scene. He is transported by a tatty black umbrella cum boat, tries some deep-sea diving, reads a book onshore, and is finally whisked away in a purple love balloon. The programme notes say he is just looking for ‘some peace and quiet’.

Lovely visual twists include when the old man cleans his armpits with a toothbrush or scratches his bald head with a hairbrush. The live music on harmonica, banjo, accordion and flute adds richness to the texture, and there is a nice moment when the musician gets carried away himself. The design, from the turf patchwork to illuminated jellyfish, is careful and coherent.

On the negative side, the pace is uneven, with slow sections. The plot has an underwhelming if charming side. Sometimes the manipulation of the main puppet leaves him too hunched up, bent double. The piece is perhaps gently derivative instead of trying to be wildly different.

However, Little Cauliflower Theatre Co are startlingly young. This is really quite a remarkable production for a well-balanced group hardly out of university, and they look set for some interesting travels.

www.littlecauliflower.co.uk

You Need Me: Death Song

Anyone expecting a clear-cut, weepy number about innocence and injustice may be surprised by Death Song. The piece does show a man on death row, whose final conversations are interspersed with a steamy back-story. However, his aggression and abuse surface gradually. By the time he seems technically and morally guilty, you have been sucked too far into the story for summary judgements.

You need me, the company, have the physical confidence to clamber through the audience and stage scenes within it. Moments of mime, freeze frames, obtrusive sound effects and live music combine. Some of these effects seem a bit rough round the edges (perhaps deliberately so), but at their best they send a shiver down the spine as you feel fate intervene.

The moral of the story is that expecting life to treat you well because you are a nice person is like expecting a bull not to maul you because you are vegetarian. ‘The bull doesn’t give a shit,’ we are told. Cue the story of a Mexican immigrant, Juan (Heriberto Montalban), his fifteen-year-old daughter Paulina (Miren Alcala) and his new girlfriend (Fran Moulds).

A talented cast of Puerto Rican, Basque, Catalan and English actors helps give authenticity, and the characters are well developed and acted. The material is ambitious but sustained, although perhaps the ending is a bit abrupt. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what could move this from a very good to a breathtaking performance, but Death Song remains promising and assured.

www.youneedme.org.uk

Cirk La Putyka: La Putyka

‘Freddie Mercury trampolining’ is one memory of La Putyka. Goodness knows how my subconscious linked this glamorous, gutsy, tongue-in-cheek performance with Bohemian Rhapsody. And fingers crossed the highly professional, thirteen-strong company from the Czech Republic can see the funny side.

It is stunning when the stage opens to reveal a large trampoline for two brilliant performers to flip and twist across. The movement is skilled, flirtatious and controlled, including striptease midair and a moment when the man catches hold of the lighting rig. Arguably, there’s something that may seem a bit retro glitzy in the costumes too.

The circus-theatre framework of La Putyka is a sleazy pub at closing time (the Czech word Putyka means a bar or dive). This provides an opportunity to dispense free beer to the audience in almost a parody of Czechness. More importantly, it enables groups of punters, a band, two clowns and a master of ceremonies in the form of a drunk landlord to come to life.

The physical comedy is inventive and accomplished. The clowns have fake pot bellies and are actually adept at balancing and tumbling. A pinky drink is poured down throats, only for shot glasses to emerge. The farewell balancing sequence uses Swiss balls as giant bubbles.

The band covers a significant amount of musical territory with skilled vocal work including yodelling. The design may not be to everyone’s taste, with a distinctly junk-shop quality, but it is detailed and in character.

Perhaps there were a few too many interludes around the impressive main acts. Some parts felt more like padding, but also helped generate enthusiasm for the return of the slinky couples. The drunkenness was not interesting in itself, but gave coherence (as well as incoherence) to the piece.

La Putyka is a teasing and meticulous circus performance. Skilled and alternative, it has been put together with a professionalism that seems almost too big for its Fringe venue. This group are champions of their idiosyncratic world.