Doctor Zhivago

Less a review, more a retrospective.  Fifty years on from it's release it was good to have a chance to revisit this epic on the big screen.  David Lean always had an eye for stunning images and his work benefits from being seen outside the confines of the TV.  And, at three hours in length, a bit of comfort is required too.

So much has been written about this work in the past five decades that there seems little point in attempting to relate the plot.  Based on the Boris Pasternak novel, the film concentrates largely on the romantic tale of Zhivago (Omar Sharif) and Lara (Julie Christie), largely glossing over the complex political undertones of the original.

The early dialogue seems stilted, dated, and only begins to work more effectively when the plot moves on from the Imperial world of the Tsar and into the Soviet era of Lenin.  Both geographically and socially the action travels across distance and into extremes. Where there is violence, inevitably commonplace in setting of war, revolution and counter revolution, there is little that would be considered graphic by today's standards, with suggestion playing a greater role.

However it's the Sharif/Christie pairing that dominates ones memories of the film.  She can be less than convincing at times, but they must be one of the most beautiful screen couples of all time.  The eyes have it.  His, mournful, bloodshot and brown, hers a luminous blue, the eyes of lovers.  Add in the haunting tune that is Lara's Theme and it's impossible not to swept up in the passion of the affair.  Strong performances too from Tom Courtenay, Rod Steiger and Geraldine Chaplin.

This being Lean, there are some glorious shots throughout.  Horizon seeking landscapes, a train traveling through the snow, a sunset in the mountains, the drama of Strelnikov's armoured train thundering past.  But my favourite, the image that remained, was off Zhivago slowly walking off and up the steps in a deserted field hospital while, in the foreground, the petals fall from a vase of sunflowers put in place by the recently departed Lara.

A thing of beauty, even if lightweight.  It's left me with a resolution to revisit the Pasternak original in 2016.

Carol

The 1950s was not a decade noted for tolerance.  And in the USA of McCarthyism it wasn't just any hint of left wing politics which was viewed with suspicion, but anything which might mark a person out as 'other', anyone who strayed outwith the social norms deemed to be acceptable behaviour.  To be gay in such a narrow minded society required a degree of courage and the ability to camouflage oneself within the bounds of what would be tolerated.  

Therese (Rooney Mara) is a young woman working behind the toy counter of a New York department store.  She has a boyfriend who wants her to marry him, but she's not so sure.  Enter Carol (Cate Blanchett), a glamorous older woman, clearly wealthy, who is immediately taken with the shop assistant.  She buys an expensive Xmas present for her daughter, and contrives to ensure that she and Therese will meet again.

What begins as a friendship develops into a full blown love affair, culminating in a long road trip.  This is ended by the sordid intervention of a private investigator hired by Carol's husband to garner evidence of her moral laxity, which is then to be used to give him custody of the child as part of a divorce settlement.  Carol returns to the city to defend what few rights the law affords her, and appeal to her spouse's better nature.

A bereft Therese builds a career as a photographer and gradually comes to accept that Carol will not be a part of her life.  This expectation is confounded when the older woman finally gets her divorce settlement and Therese has to decide where her future lies.

In essence this a conventional love story at heart.  But portrayed with such attention to the details of the period, both physically and morally, that it sweeps the viewer along into their world.  There's some fine cinematography, and the direction is assured, but it's the performances that dominate.  Blanchett and Rooney make for a charismatic leading duo, romantic but never overly sentimental.  There are some lovely supporting roles, notably Kyle Chandler portraying Carol's husband as a man confused by his own emotions and the social expectations he cleaves to.

Highly recommended.

Tracks of the Winter Bear, Traverse

Two acts, two authors, two very different playlets, but with common themes and references.

Act 1 tells the story of a doomed relationship in reverse.  Shula is trying to shake off the ghost of her lover, and her story winds back through significant moments in their relationship.  Along the way she receives well meant advice from strangers, who never quite hit the mark with their words, but emphasise how hard it is to communicate with someone whose reason for communicating has gone.

There are some great one liners, and several Edinburgh in-jokes, but the focus is always on Deborah Arnott's Shula, a study in pain and grief and the tragedy of being an outsider, but who lights up when the love of her life is realised, and is still able to find a form of hope and a road back from despair.

From the very real life of the opener, the second act moves into a playful, allegorical fantasy.  In a Highland winter theme park Jackie, a disenchanted Mother Christmas, becomes entwined with an escaped polar bear.  A bear that can talk in both it's own voice, and that of the people it has eaten.  A bear that craves love, with a woman who has turned her back on it.

Together they go on a journey, back to Jackie's home in Abbeyhill, and face up to their own fears.  When they part there is, as in Act 1, enough hope in the air for them to find their own ways in recognising their own needs.  The humour is dark, often hilarious, and the script moves at a goodly pace.  Kathryn Howden is a wonderfully world weary Jackie, full of wisecracks and cynicism.  But it's Caroline Deyga's Bear that's the star turn of the night.  Worried, worrying, companionable, terrifying, an echo chamber of human fears and heartaches, she is a powerful presence on stage.

An unusual stage at that, with audience lined up on two sides of the raised and rolling platform, yet another aspect of the duality that runs through the performance.

Both acts have strongly distinctive identities, but both feature love lost, love missed, love unclaimed.  Love accepted, enjoyed, powerful.  And polar bears.

A heartwarming way to pass a winter evening.

Bridge of Spies

A film of two halves, two worlds and two men.  Based, at times loosely, on real life events, this is the Cold War thriller for modern times.  Whilst it provides a genuine all-American hero, the ambiguities seeping from so much of the drama don't give us the simplistic distinction between the goodies and the baddies that we've so often been fed in the past.

Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance) is a quiet New York artist who is also, as the opening scenes reveal, is a spy for Soviet Russia.  Arrested by an at times hilariously incompetent US security service, he is put on trial for espionage.  Seeking to be seen to be playing fair, experienced lawyer James Donovan (Tom Hanks) is asked to act as Abel's defence counsel.  Despite opposition from state, judiciary, media and public, Donovan tries everything he can to secure Abel a proper trial, despite the risks to himself and his family, knowing he can't possibly succeed.

In a parallel storyline the American spy plane pilot Gary Powers is shot down over Russia and held prisoner.  The US government is keen to see him returned before he spills too many secrets, and engages Donovan to act a as mediator, negotiating a deal for the exchange of Abel and Powers.  Cue switch of scene and mood as the lawyer leaves the sunny warmth and security of home for the cold, grey, war damaged streets of Berlin.  The second half of the film focuses on Donovan's interactions with Soviet Union and DDR officials, the latter competing with the former to gain greater recognition of their country as an independent state.  Leading to much tension, uncertainty and some personal danger for Donovan himself, right up to the closing scenes on the bridge of Spies where the exchange is to take place.

It's all beautifully shot, if a little over reliant on symbolism (the contrast between the shooting of East Germans attempting to get over the wall, and some kids free to climb fences back in Brooklyn, was effective but heavy handed), and there are times when the script seems headed towards comic book territory (but the Coen Brothers did have some part in the script!).  If I have a significant quibble though it's to do with times.  At two hours twenty it's a bit overlong.  And the film gives little feel for the period of time covered by the story, jumping blithely across the calendar and round the clock.  Abel was arrested in 1957, Powers in 1960, and the exchange took place in '62.  None of this would be apparent to the casual viewer.

Hanks is excellent in the legal role, very much a man you'd want on your side in court, with a strong commitment to justice and his own humanitarian instincts.  Even when that means conflicting with his own minders, whose morality is dubious.  He doesn't always look as concerned for his own safety as you think he might, but heroes don't work that way....

Rylance is simply superb, the still centre of the storm, delivering a masterclass in minutiae, of saying it all without words.   A perfect illustration of how someone who works for 'the enemy' can also be a decent human being.  A lesson that seems not to have been learned judging by some of the overreactions we've been seeing to our own recent events.  Bridge of Spies reminds us the shades of grey between the media's black and white, and in that it's a valuable film for our times.

Southern Tenant Folk Union

To the House once more to see a band I reviewed back in May.  Tonight the band were five members strong, with just the one guitarist, and Katherine Stewart now on fiddling duties.

The format was much as described in my previous post, right down to the audience singing along to a gospel number in the encore.  Always a great way to end a gig.  With a deep well of songs from their six albums to draw from, and some new songs from the seventh, which will be out next year, Southern Tenant cover a gamut of styles through country, bluegrass, folk and balladry.  Their lyrics tackle a wide variety of subject, but it's the more political numbers that stand out for their imagery.  Pat McGarvey never shies away from wearing his left wing heart on his political sleeve, and the band is all the better for that.  He also ensures that everyone gets a chance to show off their individual talents, and newcomer Stewart delivered a fine and lively set of Scots tunes for her party piece.

As enjoyable as ever and not to be missed if you get the chance.

The Jellyman's Daughter, The Roxy Assembly

Dowally, a young fiddle and guitar duo (although they did say there was often an accordionist as well), provided support.  A selection of their own tunes, and a cover of Sandy Wright's great song, Wild Hurricane.  Plenty of variation in tempo, style and influences, produced a set that was never predictable and always of interest.  There was one whistle tune, only just composed, for which they sought a title, but I never got to tell them of my suggestion, Jelly and Ice Cream, as it only occurred to me some time later!

The delivery of the vocals came as a surprise, Rachel's voice sounding far more mature than her youth suggested, and she did a good job of making such a familiar number her own.  They do need to develop their stage craft a bit, with the links between songs sounding hesitant and unconvincing, but that will no doubt come with time.  A very enjoyable set.

The Jellyman's Daughter we'd seen only once before, more than a year ago, as a support act.  Their CD has had many plays at home, but this was our first opportunity to see them live again, and we were looking forward to seeing how they had developed.  The duo, Emily Kelly on guitar and Graham Coe on cello, were joined for a couple of numbers by Emily's dad (the actual Jellyman himself we were informed) on banjo, and a double bass player for much of the set.

Mostly they sing their own songs, plus a few heavily rearranged covers.  There are some striking tunes, and plenty of variety of pace and tone both between and within their compositions.  Emily has an interesting voice, managing to be both breathless and bluesy.  Graham's is less distinctive, but provides contrast and harmonies, and together they are extremely effective.  There is a strong musical intelligence at work behind the arrangements and they are clear about the sound they are aiming for.

Kelly's guitar work is of decent quality, but the sound that makes The Jellyman's Daughter unique, and so fascinating to watch, is down to Coe's mastery of his instrument.  If you think of the cello as somewhat staid, only to be seen in chamber music quartets, watching this man play will convince you otherwise.  His solos, both bowed and pizzicato, are as exciting as anything you'll hear from an electric guitar.  He has developed his own chopping style, aggressively slashing at the strings with his bow, which adds both sonic and visual drama.

Amongst the songs there are some, like Anna and Carolina, that stay in the brain long after the show has ended.  I am also happy to commit the sacrilege of saying that their dynamic reinterpretation of the Beatles' Can't Buy Me Love is one that makes the original sound like a commercial jingle.

The bassist provided a nicely understated backbeat for much of the set.  For their final encore the duo were joined by five members of the Tinderbox Orchestra, and their sound engineer on drums, and gave some indication of the richer sounds they may develop in future.  They have matured nicely over the twelve months since we first saw them, with a much stronger stage presence and ability to build a relationship with their audience.  There is every indication that they are just going to get better and better with time.

A class act.

If you'd like to see what I'm talking about....

Here they are delivering Anna with the help of the superb Cera Impala and Dirk Ronnenburg.

And this is Honey.

Finally, that magnificent Beatles cover.

Enjoy.

Brooklyn

It's so noice when everyone's noice, isn't it?

Eilis (Saoirse Ronan) is a young woman living a claustrophobic life in a small town in the Ireland of 1950.  Her elder sister, wanting more of a life for her sister than she has managed to find, arranges for Eilis to travel to New York where a job has been arranged for her through Father Flood, the local Irish priest.  

Naive, fearful and severely homesick, Eilis initially hates her new life, but slowly adapts to her new surroundings.  It helps that so many people - her landlady, her boss and Father Flood - are being so noice to her.  Life improves dramatically when she meets a noice Italian boy and they fall in love.  Suddenly Brooklyn is home and her future is there to be taken.

A family tragedy takes her back to her home town.  Intending to stay for only a month, pressures from her mother, oldest friend and the wider community she left behind conspire to make that time stretch out.  She finds herself, almost by accident, with a good job, a circle of friends and a noice Irish boy who wants her to stay.

And therein lies the dilemma which frames the story.  Who does she choose to make a life with?  Her noice Italian plumber in Brooklyn, or the noice, wealthy Irishman back home?  Where is her real home now?

No spoilers here - she makes her choice and the film ends with that decision.  

The cinematography is beautiful and the feel for the period suberb, with the social mores of the two contrasting societies laid bare.  Ronan is pitch perfect in the lead role, the character developing with her experiences and laying her emotions bare.  She has ability to convey a variety of emotions with her facail expressions that marks out all great screen actors.  The supporting cast has been well chosen, not a dud amongst them.  Standing out from the pack was the always reliable Jim Broadbent as the avuncular Flood, and Eva Birthistle as the experienced fellow passenger who takes Eilis in hand on the boat across the Atlantic.  

With such ingredients the dish should have been a satisfying one.  But I left still hungry for a bit of genuine drama.  Everyone in the Eilis universe is just so damn noice, with conflict and anger absent from the world.  (There is one enjoyably bitchy character back in Ireland, but she's put in her place by somebody noice.  And the worst crime in Brooklyn seems to be 'giddiness'.)  I kept on waiting for something to happen, something to test Eilis' mettle, but it never arrived.

On Coney Island Eilis and Tony walk hand in hand, eating candyfloss.  Which is how I felt when the (very sudden) end came - pretty, sugary, and nothing to bite on.

But at least everyone's noice.

Merry Hell, Atkinson, Southport

stage presence

noun

the ability to command an audience with impressive style or manner  (Dictionary.com)

Two support acts to open the evening, with Nottingham singer/songwriter Luke Whitmore up first.  Initially nervous, he relaxed as his set unfolded and became much chattier with the crowd.  Culminating in his taking a photo of us, to show his wife the size of his largest ever audience!  He has a pleasant voice and some nice phrasing, but the songs lacked any distinctive qualities and his lyrics were too often predictable and banal.  It felt like a work in progress.

The evening was being held under the banner of Grateful Fred's, who hold monthly events at this venue, and before the interval we got a trio drawn from their resident house band.  An unusual line up, instrumentally.  What I took to be a tenor guitar turned out to be bass, the expected lead guitar was mostly on rhythm duties, and solos were provided by an electrified ukulele.  Add in a bit of harmonica and you have a surprising sound.  There was the odd bum note, the guitarist had by far the better voice of the two lead vocalists, and too many jokes were aimed at the in-crowd of regulars.  But the songs were good, arrangements imaginative and they provided plenty of entertainment.  What more do you want from a house band?

I opened this review with a dictionary definition, and it came into play immediately after the interval.  The arrival of Merry Hell on stage changed the whole dynamic of the room.  There's no glamour or pizzazz or flashing lights or dry ice, just an immediate connection with the people they are there to entertain.  And that's the key word for their set.

There's no virtuosity, but solid, professional musicianship.  No sparkling musical imagination, but well crafted, well written and lyrically clever songs.  They cover a wide range of subjects, including politics, death, consumerism, violence and love, with wit, humanity and an innate sense of decency.  Wrapped up in some stonkingly catch tunes.

On this occasion performing as a six piece outfit, with bass, guitar, fiddle and mandolin/bouzouki, fronted by their two excellent vocalists.  It is the contrasting and complementary voices of Andrew and Virginia Kettle that encapsulate the MH sound, his rasping and raucous, hers sweet and soaring.  Both are natural stage performers with mime, dance and comedy as integral parts of their appeal.  Meanwhile the facial expressions and physical antics of Bob, on mandolin, and Nick, on bass, add their own visual xxxxx to the show.

Stage presence.  So often forgotten as an essential ingredient of live music, but served up with all the trimmings by Merry Hell.

For a finale the Hell were joined by the opening acts, and whole audience, in a rendition of the Monkees' Daydream Believer, one of the great singalong numbers (well, it was for a crowd where most of us could remember the sixties....).

And all I could think as I left was .... please come up to Scotland, and soon.  Merry Hell are a great live act.

Lau, Queens Hall

After my ravingly enthusiastic review of a Lau gig in London earlier this year it will come as no surprise to read that tonight was another triumph for a trio that just seem to get better and better as the years go by.  Playing to a sold out Queens Hall, this was yet another superb performance of virtuosity and delight, met with a fully deserved standing ovation at the end of the night.

Support came from New York singer/songwriter Simi Stone.  Playing fiddle and guitar, and aided for some of the set by guitarist Dan Whitehouse, Stone mostly sang her own songs.  With a powerful voice, at times reminiscent of Carole King, a chatty relationship with her audience, simple but effective arrangements, and some interesting lyrics, she proved to be a good warm up act and set the scene for what was to follow.  So I may have been in a minority in finding that voice uninspiring, even a touch flat at times, and the songs verging towards platitudinous pop, but Stone just din't do it for me.  Some nice work on the strings from Whitehouse though.

All that is forgotten once Martin, Kris and Aidan take the stage.  Further dramatised by a theatrical light show, the music was as magical as ever.  A mix of tunes and songs from albums past and present, but with fresh arrangements for some of the old stuff, and some well conceived segues that maintained the momentum of the gig.  Once again Midnight Feast proved a highlight, with probably the finest rendition of this great song I have yet heard the band deliver.

Nothing stays the same in the world of Lau, and their ever increasing mastery of electronics, underwritten by their innate musicianship, mean there is always something unexpected to enjoy, no matter how many times I go to see this band.  It's an experience that remains unsurpassed.

Cera Impala and the New Prohibition Band

Back in the House again, after a gap of several weeks, and what a grin-inducing event to return to.

Opening proceedings was folk icon and Edinburgh songwriting legend, Sandy Wright.  On the occasion, he informed us, of his 65th birthday.  Accompanied by Sarah McFadyen on fiddle and banjo, and Joey Sanderson on cello, Wright (piano accordion), launched into one of his best known compositions, Steel and Stone.  Untroubled by any need to milk applause, the group segued on into another two songs before pausing to let the audience catch up.  This gig was never predictable.

Joined onstage by Cera Impala and Dirk Ronneburg, we were given an eclectic mix of songs and some hilarious introductions.  As a quintet they were clearly unrehearsed, and it mattered not a bit.  The odd discordant moment only added to the sense of watching something unique, the essence of live performance.  Wright doesn't have the world's greatest voice.  But then neither does Dylan.  He does have warmth, imagination and humanity, and these more than make up for any technical imperfections.  He's a simple joy to listen to, and to watch.

After the break Cera and her band performed a range of new songs, many from their forthcoming album, Tumbleweed (and I'm looking forward to hearing that in the near future).  Mostly self-penned, her music is a mix of country, jazz, blues and a range of influences that reflects her international background.  The voice is husky, jazzy and sweet, her phrasing original and captivating.  A solo number with sparse ukulele accompaniment opened the set and was captivating.  Add in her finger picking banjo sound, and the sympathetic virtuoso fiddle of Doctor Dirk, plus the double bass of Sanderson, and you get the the New Prohibition sound.  Some beautiful lyrics and memorable tunes, thoughtful arrangements and rhythms to get the feet tapping.  The eccentrically talented Sanderson, on cello, double bass and cymbal (atop said bass), brings a vocal style that swings along a spectrum roughly bounded by Maria Callas and Tom Waits....

Above all this was a fun night, an event the audience felt drawn in to and won't forget quickly.

The Lady in the Van

Bennettophobes should look away now for this is peak Bennett.  With two old ladies, no less than three incarnations of the man himself, and a whimsical mix of real world events and inventiveness, this is about as Bennetty as it gets.

The story chronicles the relationship of the writer to Miss Shepherd, an eccentric elderly lady who ended up residing in a van on his driveway for fifteen years until her death.  It is also Bennett's attempt to understand a little more of the woman who lived in such close proximity, yet in many ways remained a mystery to him.  There were hints that her past included a considerable musical talent, a period as a nun, and some personal tragedies.  Seemingly sustained by Catholic guilt, and self-centred, disputational and delusional in her dealings with the rest of humanity, she is far from being a cosy guest.

Maggie Smith's performance ensures Shepherd can never be viewed with sentimentality.  She is cantankerous, dysfunctional, intolerant and rude, yet endlessly fascinating, shrouded in mysteries and occasionally an object of pity.  Yet providing several laugh out loud moments.

Alex Jennings makes a convincing pair of Bennetts, one living in the real world, bound in his behaviour by the codes of lower middle class politeness, the other the writer, viewing everything and everyone as a source of material.  His own conversations with himself, querying his motives and sometimes imagining himself to be other than he is, give us some of the film's best moments.

There are some lovely supporting performances too.  Gwen Taylor is a portrait of genteel repression as Bennett's mother, Jim Broadbent is genuinely creepy as a (fictional) ex policeman, and Roger Allam stands out, as he so often does, as the perfect middle class snob.  There are plenty of other familiar faces dotted throughout, but who turn down the chance to deliver some dialogue from the master of comic mundanity?

The film tells you much about Bennett himself, and the world he inhabits, but at heart it's about a life that has fallen through the cracks in the pavement.  If you're not an AB fan it might all be a bit too much.  But I am, and this was very enjoyable way to pass the time.

Suffragette

Set in 1912, this is the story of a housewife and laundry worker who becomes involved in the activities of the Suffragette movement.  Something of an accidental activist, Maud Watts (Carey Mulligan) learns lessons she cannot unlearn and her experiences build within her a deep commitment to the suffragist cause.  This will bring her personal hardship, a broken family and violent clashes with the authorities, all borne by her increasing belief in the rightness of her actions.

Mulligan is superb as the central character, bringing emotion, passion and gritty conviction to the role, and she more than makes up for any quibbles there might be about script or plot.  In many ways the two most interesting personas are the classic archetypes of revolution and the state.  Helena Bonham Carter can sometimes be a disruptive screen presence, but here her Edith Ellyn is every inch the ideologically driven organiser that every movement needs.  While Brendan Gleeson is the policeman, the state functionary who views his purpose in life being to uphold the law, irrespective of the morality involved.  Both take positions that cannot admit any alternatives, both carry the scent of the fanatic.

Those quibbles?  The Meryl Streep cameo added little to the storyline and loudly proclaimed "We need a star name to sell this in the US".  Having Maud as such an active participant in the death of the Suffragettes' most renowned martyr stretched credulity a bit too far.  And, a very personal viewpoint this, whilst I admired the depiction of the forced feeding so many women were subjected to, it seemed a shame not squeeze in a mention of the most desperate act of a desperate government, the notorious Cat and Mouse Act.

Cinematically this is largely a world of dark interiors and grimy streets, the the occasional insight into the opulence of the upper classes.  Underneath this dull surface a few striking images pop up from time to time, adding the occasional artistic flourish.

It's hard to produce a film that provides mainstream entertainment and still delivers a deeply relevant social message, but Suffragette pulls it off.  Largely due to the admirable Mulligan.  If the story fails to bring out both anger and empathy in you then you might need to recognise that you may be part of the problem.  Because this film, in particular the subtlety of the ending, is a reminder that the struggles for women's rights did not end with the Pankhursts.  If you know anyone who says that feminism isn't needed any more, or who thinks voting is a waste of time, get them to a screening of Suffragette.  Force fed or otherwise....

Kosmos Ensemble, Traverse

From Polish Tango to Romanian wedding dance, throwing in Jewish, Greek, Japanese, Gypsy, Turkish and who knows what else influences.  There's even a bit of Brahms.  The term 'World Music' tends to conjure up a folksy image, but genuinely brought us sounds from all over the globe, but in a more classical format.  The choice of numbers is eclectic, arrangements are not merely imaginative, but constantly surprising, and there is virtuosity in abundance.

The trio use violin, viola and piano accordion to produce a rich sound, almost orchestral in depth at times, but with the simplicity of the people's music.  Harriet Mackenzie's violin technique includes one of the most aggressive pizzicato's I've seen, and attacking bowed passages will suddenly give way to a gentle caress.  She's like a fiddling dominatrix.  On viola Meg Hamilton can be seen to revel in the chance to improvise and bring freshness to everything she touches.   Miloš Milivojević plays accordion in a quiet, understated manner, but the solo Romanian piece he played was one of the highlights of the evening.

There were times, for this listener at least, when the music evoked more admiration than excitement.  But there was a disconnect about the event that maybe prevented my full involvement.  In a venue where I'm used to seeing jazz, rock and folk it came as a surprise to find this was more concert than gig.  The formality of taking a bow after every piece, and the cut glass accents of the two fiddlers, would have felt more at home in in a more formal venue, and the band need to learn to adapt their audience technique to different venues.

But that carp aside, this was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.  For anyone who appreciates a high standard of musicianship, and the rhythms and cadences of Eastern Europe and beyond, Kosmos are a band you can depend on.

A Word with Dr Johnson (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

A story of the creation of Johnson's most famed work, A Dictionary of the English Language, from its being commissioned in 1746 through to initial publication in 1755.  Using a mixture of imagined and historical characters, original dialogue spiced with many quotations attributed to the lexicographer, and songs and music, the drama provides some insights into the methodology used by Johnson and his team in compiling their opus.  But also shows a more personal side to the writer in the relationship with his wife, who would not live long enough to see the dictionary published.

This is delivered with a distinctly Scottish twist to the action, with plenty of illustrations of the richness of Scots language which was largely ignored in the compilation, and Johnson's lack of respect for Scots themselves.  A timely echo of the devaluation of Scottish MPs by the recent EVEL legislation.

For all the serious intent, this play is lush in its presentation and often very, very funny.  Mark McDonnell is an admirable Samuel J, erudite, impassioned, ofttimes arrogant, and clearly in love with his wife (albeit without exhibiting any of the behavioural tics for which the great man was known - did the writer think they would be too great a distraction for the audience?).  Yet his performance was outshone by two of the supporting cast.

Gerda Stevenson plays both Scotsman and Englishman, with her main role a memorable Tetty Johnson, and the husband and wife scenes are amongst the best in the production.  While Alasdair MacRae stands out for his great comic timing, commanding delivery and physical presence.  And both Stevenson and MacRae have excellent singing voices.

Hugely enjoyable, historically informative and with relevance to today, A Word With Dr Johnson is well worth an hour of your time.  Mind you, I have to confess to being converted before a word had been spoken.  Any production that includes the wonderful sound of the oh-so-rarely-heard hammer dulcimer is a winner in my book....

Descent (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

When you sign up to become someone's life partner you are there to be both friend and lover, confidante and helpmate, but nobody every signs up expecting to become a carer.  Especially if the person being cared for no longer seems to be 'there'.

Rob is an architect, used to living his life in the comfort of order and design.  His wife Cathy has an easier going attitude, complementing her husband's more regimented approach.  When Rob begins to exhibit signs of forgetfulness, and worse, how long will it be before Cathy can admit there's a real problem to be faced up to?

Daughter Nicola, realistic and practical, forces the issue as she sees the progress of the illness and the terrible impact it has, not just on Rob, but on Cathy too.  Each must confront this change in their lives in their own way, and do whatever they can to accept the disintegration of the Rob they all knew.

Barrie Hunter is an increasingly haunted looking Rob, moving from a man in control to one assailed by forces he can't understand.  Fiona MacNeil's Nicola, a little too softly spoken at times, is a calming voice of reason, forcing her mother to accept her own limitations.

But it's Wendy Seager's superb performance as Cathy which dominates throughout.  Caught between the frustration of her husband and the pragmatism of her daughter, she brings a genuine sense of pain to the role, and is challenged, determined and defeated by turns.

Switching between dialogue and monologue, and with a surprising number of laughs along the way, the play raises questions about what we think of as humanity, of what makes you 'you', and the recognition that an illness like dementia does harm to more than just the person suffering its effects.  It challenges us to place ourselves in the same situation, and wonder how long we would go on kidding ourselves that we can deal with the situation unaided.

Thought provoking entertainment.

The Bevvy Sisters, Traverse

Our third time this year at a Bevvy Sisters gig, with the earlier reviews here and here.  So it might be thought that there was little new to say about the group.  Not so, for this performance featured a very different set list from those gone before.

There's still the same great harmonies, soaring lead vocals, thoughtful arrangements and clever work on guitar, banjo and ukulele.  But the evening had a much more strongly Scottish feel to it.  There were a couple of songs from the great Edinburgh songwriter, Sandy Wright, but much of the set was given over to the works of that most lyrical of Dundonians, the late Michael Marra.  His sharp, observant lyrics shone under the gloss given them by the Bevvy's vocal polish (plus a wee bit of tin whistle to cement the Scots feel).

There was a lovely ending to the gig with the audience joining in on Marra's tragi-comic anthem to the ordinary man, Hermless.  This band are funny, sassy and surprising, and provide great entertainment.  We'll be back for more in future.

One in a Million (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

Gerry is a fifty-something year old handyman busying himself with odd jobs in the school where he works.  Enter Susan, a young woman who, after some initial confusion and a nice dig at stereotyping, we learn is an exchange student from Malawi.  As the drama is played out their mutual differences become far less important than the common ground they find they share, and by the end the relationship is one of mutual respect and friendship.

Susan has come to the room to set up a project display for a class, on the instructions of her supervisor, but would clearly prefer to be elsewhere.  Gerry is intrigued by the objects being placed before him and asks about the purpose of the project.  It is about the charity Mary's meals and the excellent work it does feeding deprived children across the world so that they are not too hungry to learn at school, Susan being one of the first beneficiaries.  Gerry's enquiring mind leads Susan to tell the story of the charity and its achievements, illustrated with the objects she is setting up for her talk.  But along the way they discover a shared passion for, and encyclopedic knowledge of, music, and the reason/opportunity for Susan wishing to get away quickly.

As so often with fiction which aims to be 'worthy', the didactic aspects of the script can be a bit too heavy handed at times and leave the audience feeling more lectured at than entertained.  It is saved by some very funny lines and an interesting array of props.  Above all it is made entertaining by two excellent performances.  Teri Ann Bob-Baxter's Susan is feisty, sharp and fun.  Overshadowed by a beautiful portrayal of a seen-it-all working class autodidact from Alan McHugh who is funny, touching, irritable and always very human.

Not the best play I've seen in the P, P and P series, but still a worthy entry into the list of successes.

The Friday Show, The Stand, Edinburgh

Much like the Thursday night shows I've reviewed previously, this show features a host to warm the crowd up and introduce the four featured acts.  Except that on this particular night there was a surprise bonus in the form of a well known addition to the advertised line up.

Joe Heenan was tonight's MC and was quickly into his stride with some decent jokes and banter with the front row of the audience.  His task was helped by the presence of a wholesome looking American lad, and two English women with the posh names of Pippa and Georgia.  Heenan took the piss relentlessly, without ever resorting to cruelty, and would give all his 'victims' due recognition at the end of the night.

First up was Gus Lymburn who started well with his tales of Motherwell, and the way Scottish drunks using swearing as an aid to memory, but seemed to lose his way a little when he moved on to life with his upper class ex-girlfriend.

After the first break Heenan brought on young Irishman Peter Flanagan.  He produced a great set with a bit of philosophy thrown in for free.  He has a deliciously slow build up to punch lines that releases laughter in gusts.

He was followed by the night's surprise package, Romesh Ranganathan.  A man who has had a fair bit of TV exposure in the past couple of years.  And rightly so.  He was superb, that dry delivery disguising the cleverness of construction underlying his stories.  Which could also be said of the next act Jo Caulfield, although with an added acerbic edge.  Jo's bitchy persona is the perfect delivery vehicle for social comment and put downs.  And consistent hilarity.

The final act of the night was Josh Howie with material that appeared to split the room.  I heard several women comment that Howie's brand of ironic misogyny was just a bit too near to reality to be funny.  But dig beneath the offensive exterior and there was a lot in this set to admire, with some very cleverly worked punchlines and some lovely throwaways.  No doubt he'd say that he isn't overly concerned about offending people, but it was a shame to see the night end on a slightly sour note.

Memories of the middle section of the evening will have made up for that in most eyes, with Flanagan, Caulfield and bonus ball Ranganathan all outstanding.

Himmerland

Jazzfolk?  Folkjazz?  I asked the guitarist what he classified them as and he opted for the safety of 'World Music'.  But let's forget genre stereotyping

Himmerland are a five piece band from Denmark.  Fiddle, soprano saxophone, guitar, electric bass and a hugely entertaining percussionist.  They play a mix of self-penned numbers and Danish folk tunes, songs and instrumentals.  The music mingles not just folk and jazz, but myriad other influences, not least from the contribution of the Ghanaian happily banging away on his drum kit who feeds African and reggae into the melting pot.

The musicianship is of a high quality and the arrangements imaginative.  There is an excellent mix of slow and upbeat numbers across the set.  Lead vocals are mostly provided by fiddler Ditte Fromseier who has a sweet voice and clear phrasing.  There were a couple of attempts to get the audience singing along and the one with the nonsense chorus succeeded, although we were less forthcoming when asked to sing in proper Danish!  The band enjoy interacting with the crowd and provide plenty of background information on the origins of each piece and even managed some decent jokes in English.  They were clearly enjoying themselves and that sense of fun was infectious.

So often the weak spot of groups with jazz pretensions are the bass solos, like tedious exercises in narcissism.  No such issue here.  Andrezej Kerjniuk from Poland was, for me, the stand out musician of the night, his solos and accompaniments wouldn't have disgraced Jaco Pastorius himself.  And so modest about his abilities when you talk to him.

For this gig they were joined for much of the set by Scottish fiddler Eilidh Shaw of Poozies fame.  That second fiddle added to the richness of the sound, and the band joined in her in some of her own pieces, including a wonderful tune from that great Anglo-Swedish band, Swap.

A memorable evening that brought a smile to everyone's face.

Joyous.

140 Million Miles, (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

A tasty butternut squash pie and a pint of Best to kick things off, then down into the depths once more to see a two hander (two and a half hander?) about a couple journeying to become the first human residents of Mars.  It's beautifully performed, laugh out loud funny, cleverly structured and ultimately moving.

It's also very difficult to write about without throwing up some spoilers, so if you intend to go and see it - and I strongly recommend you take the chance if you can - you might want to stop reading now!

Dawn and Neil have won a competition to become the first people to colonise the red planet.  Early thirties, an ordinary couple with an economically precarious life, they are looking forward to a new start, a new life, the chance to be part of history.  Their naive enthusiasm for the project blinds them to any potential pitfalls.  The action takes us through their joy at winning, their period of training and celebrity on earth, the launch into space, their progress through space on the journey to Mars.

But from an early stage we are also treated to flashbacks that gradually reveal the sense of tragedy underlying their apparent optimism, the reasons behind their willingness to escape whatever the odds.  And this structural device, simply highlighted by lighting changes, reveals to the audience the emotional depth of the problem the couple are forced to confront in deep space, and the calamitous consequences of their rash decision to leave their home planet.

Rosie Mason excels as Dawn, switching from infectious enthusiasm to concerned anxiety with total conviction.  Darren Seed's Neil teeters edgily towards dimwitted caricature at times, but he never quite crosses the line and is convincing as the optimist who always looks for the silver lining.

And the half?  The disembodied voice of mission control, guiding the couple through their trip of a lifetime, and tasked with revealing to them the grim truth of their situation.  Admirably calm and reassuring.  Until the end.

You leave the theatre wondering what they are left to make of the life remaining to them, how you might cope in a similar situation, and pondering how the lack of hope our society imposes on so many of our fellow citizens may lead them into making desperately unsuitable choices.  A parable for Cameron's Britain perhaps?

Chris Wood, Traverse

A Soundhouse gig in the bar of the Traverse Theatre and a rare visit to Scotland for the much celebrated Chris Wood from Kent.  From the start he's engaging with his audience, making them laugh with background to the songs and a steady dose of self deprecation.  'Not nervous, just stupid' he tells us, but the songs belie that judgement.

There are a few traditional folk songs, albeit given the Wood treatment in their arrangements, and that unique approach comes over strongly with his interpretation of Blake's Jerusalem.  I can honestly say that it's the first time I've ever enjoyed listening to this song, the usual sentimentality and bombast sloughed off and replaced by thoughtfulness and caring.  Sung like this it becomes a lyric the English political left could claim back from the 'patriots' and used as a statement of intent to bring a better life to all.

But the great strength of the set lay in his own compositions.  Wood's relaxed vocal style is complemented by his very professional guitar work.  There are no musical fireworks, but enough clever playing to give depth to the overall sound.  There were no outstanding tunes among the songs either, no really memorable hooks, just a steady competence.  So far, so pleasant, with one further ingredient that makes the listening experience so memorable.

There are some wonderful lyrics contained within this selection of love songs, political rants, observations on everyday life.  Lines like 'The Argos catalogue is our tormentor' (from None The Wiser) provoke laughter, recognition.  Wood has that magical ability to be both everyman and storyteller.  Tales of middle aged love, a song about the police killing of Brazilian Jean Charles de Menezes, and a bleak analysis of recession Britain.

My companions commented that they found the whole set too one paced, with nothing upbeat to break the monotony, and this is a complaint I've made about other artists in previous reviews.  Yet I don't feel able to make that complaint on this occasion.  In part because his patter was so entertaining, but mostly because I found myself absorbed in those lyrics and the images they created.  Best not to treat this as a folk gig, and think of it more as poetry with music.  Even the most austere reality he portrays has an underlying warmth and sense of hope, the possibility that it could all be so much better.  What more can you ask from a poet?

Stu and Garry, The Stand

A return to the free Sunday lunchtime show and a chance to watch these masters of improv comedy once again.  The format was basically as described in my review from earlier this year, although the second half was entirely given over to short sketches based on scenario ideas the audience had written down on scraps of paper during the interval.

The results were just a hilarious as last time, and indeed every time we've seen this pair doing their thing.  Watching one man try to make the other say the words "fox fur corset" without saying them himself was worth the non-existent entrance price on it's own.  The second half sketches, lacking the usual game structure, were more hit and miss, but even the relative duffers offered a couple of cracking laughs, with Garry in groan inducing pun mode.  He's also wont to throw in some clever asides that you have to be quick, and reasonably knowledgeable, to pick up.  So I'm sure I missed out on a few....

Still a fantastic way to spend a Sunday afternoon, with two of the funniest men in the country.

Kontomble (The Shaman and the Boy), (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

Ray is a teenager with mental health problems, attending a unit that's trying to working his equilibrium.  At a bus stop he encounters Ezra, a West African who claims to be a Shaman, a healer through the power of community and spirit.  Ray feels that Ezra's words and advice can help him to recover.  His Auntie Ruth, who looks after him, is unconvinced.  A nurse herself, she has greater faith in the powers of conventional medicine than the more nebulous claims of superstition.

Is Ezra for real?  If he's a fake is he a genuine fake, a con man, or someone who believes in his own abilities to 'cure'?  And, when examined, does it matter?  Isn't it the end result that's most important?

In a secular society, where we look to science for answers, is there still a role for alternative approaches?  Is our city life, with it's disconnection from community, a part of our sickness?  This play doesn't provide any answers, but does raise questions.  Is it better to remain open minded, and honest, even it means going against accepted reason?

Keiran Marshall is superb as young, troubled Ray, torn between hope and despair, and looking for answers that will work for him .  Miles Yekinni provides a comforting presence as Ezra, a sense of ancient wisdoms, conflicting with the more conventional views of Beth Marshall's worried and loving Ruth.  With little more than a few chairs to play with the staging convincingly shifts scene from the damp Glasgow streets to Ruth's flat to the beach at Troon, the audience never in any doubt about what's happening where.  And there are some memorably funny lines as well.

A thoughtful and thought provoking forty five minutes.  Highly recommended.

The Furrow Collective

A return to the house and some traditional folk music.  For too many people that phrase still conjures up an image of old men in big jumpers and the members of The Furrow Collective couldn't be much further from that outdated notion.  They're young, keep very busy with a wide variety of other bands and solo projects, but are all deeply steeped in the traditional music of their origins.

Two of the band come from England, two from Scotland, and they sing ballads from all across the British Isles, and sometimes beyond, with due respect for the originals, but bringing their own lovingly worked out interpretations.  You can see the passion they have for this music in their performances and the way they talk about it.

With Lucy Farrell on viola (and a brief bit of musical saw, Emily Portman playing banjo and concertina, Alasdair Roberts on guitar and Rachel Newton on harp and fiddle, all four take turns in providing lead vocals and adding a varied mix of harmonies.  All four are excellent vocalists from the sweetness of Portman through to the lugubrious voice of Roberts, and that rich variety

I know from past experience what  superb instrumentalist Rachel Newton is (see this review of The Shee from earlier this year), and the others all have fine reputation as musicians, but there was no showing off tonight.  There seems to have been a deliberate choice made to keep the arrangements simple and often sparse, presumably to keep the lyrics at the forefront of the sound, but it felt a bit frustrating knowing what they could be capable of and weren't delivering.

Some instrumental fireworks might have helped lift the overall performance which, whilst always enjoyable, felt a little slow paced.  The one more up tempo number they included only came at the end of the second set, and more variety would have helped the overall feel of the gig.  Although there was some unintentional relief when Emily suddenly brought fruit into the lyrics and all three women ended up with the giggles.  It might have meant the disintegration of the song, but it was the kind of  memorable moment you can only get from live music.  Between numbers the comments from the band are often amusing, sometimes informative, and they engage well with their audience.

Despite lacking any real spark of excitement this was a very enjoyable night.

The Thursday Show, The Stand, Edinburgh

Exactly the same format of show as the one I reviewed last week, but with a different line up.  Hosting tonight was another Stand regular, Stu Murphy.  Like Susan M last week he got to know the people in the front row (including a couple of slightly confused looking Slovenians) and got the audience warmed up with his banter.  His approach is less acerbic, but still very funny.

The first act was UK domiciled Dane Sofie Hagen.  Good stuff on dealing with people who dare to mock her body shape, the problems she has with colloquial English (and Scottish!), and the strange things some of her Danish girlfriends come out with.  Her tone is chatty, confiding, with some curveball surprises in the punchlines.

After the interval a disappointingly short set from Christopher Macarthur-Boyd.  He began with a great opening line, about his vague resemblance to Gok Wan, and gave us stories about life with his ex girlfriend and moving back in with his parents.  Laconic, with great comic timing, this is man I'd like to see more of.  But he'd just about fit in the back pocket of the next man on stage, the larger than life Glaswegian Scott Gibson.  He starts loud, he stays loud.  A great start talking about the first experiences of life his nan gave him, but the tales of life with his partner and of holidays with the boys sometimes verged too much towards the stereotypically laddish route.  He was very funny, which is what we we were all there for after all, but I did sometimes feel this was a talent in search of better material.

Final act of the night was one of Scottish comedy's big names, Vladimir McTavish.  It's not that long since we saw his Fringe show so most of the material was familiar.  But it was almost as funny second time around.  McTavish is an accomplished a pro and mixes up the material, throws in new lines and ad libs, and keeps it fresh.

An excellent night of laughs.

Sheesham & Lotus & Son, Eastgate Theatre, Peebles

Sheesham Crow, Lotus Wight and Son Sanderson are neither a greengrocer's emporium nor a firm of solicitors.  They play old time American music and have a lot of fun doing just that, whilst giving their audiences a very different entertainment experience.  Such is their dedication to reproducing the original sounds of the 1920s and 30s that their latest album was recorded using almost the same technology as old 78rpm albums had available, then digitised for CD!  And this idiosyncratic approach is apparent in their stage show.

Sheesham and Lotus front the act with two fine, powerful and rich tenor voices, each taking their share of the lead vocals.  Most of their songs date back to the period they so admire and include plenty of opportunity for a bit of singalong audience participation.  Crow plays fiddle and does a superb job on harmonica, with Wight on banjo.  Underwriting the enterprise is the rock solid sousaphone accompaniment of Sanderson.  Add in a bit of Jew's harp, bones, kazoo, a weird harmonica/trumpet combo, some vocal impersonations of a brass section, and soaring whistling from Sheesham, produces a sound that has variety, imagination, eccentricity and moments of surprise.

Their enjoyment of the music is obvious and that passion is one of the reasons why the experience they generate is so captivating.  Sheesham is all charm and suave sophistication.  The impassive bulldog visage of Lotus breaks out into a big grin and sets his left leg a-flapping.  And Son wears a beguiling aura of bewilderment.  They are chatty, funny and tell stories that give insights into the approach they bring to their music.  (Plus being a pleasure to chat with at the interval and as we left the building.)  Above all they are excellent musicians, a very tight unit that have a very clear focus on what they bring to the world.

It would seem impossible not to get swept up in the toe tapping tunes and songs.  This might not be the kind of music you'd think would be to your taste, but here's a band producing a live experience that defies genres.

Sheesham and Lotus and Son are proper entertainers.

The Thursday Show, The Stand, Edinburgh

One of the Stand's regular shows featuring a local MC and four Scottish comedians doing their stuff.  In charge tonight was the wonderful Susan Morrison who gets to know her audience then rips the piss out of them.  Unfazed by any comeback, she is the perfect host to get the crowd fired up and laughing.  Which immediately made life easier for the four acts she introduced.

First up was Lloyd Griffiths who revealed a surprising professional talent away from his comedy job.  Griffiths is a chorister and and gave us a couple of opportunities to hear the power, quality and range of his superb singing voice.  It's a job which has given him an ability to reel off facts about English Cathedrals, which he proceeded to demonstrate by responding as the names of cathedral towns were shouted out.  Impressive, but not all that funny.  But there were enough laughs, even if the humour got a bit boorishly laddish at times.  And he certainly made the guy in the front row feel uncomfortable for making an attempt at a joke about Griffiths' less than sylph like figure.

After the break we had Fifer Kate Dillon.  This was the weakest set of the evening with laughs few in number and too much of the material focusing on Kate's obsession with her own body image.  There were a few good lines about her ex, but this felt like a routine that still needed a lot of work done on it.

John Gillick was a bit of a slow burner.  Initially his material felt dated and a throwback to more sexist times, but that gradually melted away and there were some very good stories, especially when he got on to the subject of dogs.  His slow delivery lends itself to building up tales bit by bit towards the punchline.

After the second interval Susan brought on the headline act for the night, Mark Nelson.  A superb set, and the only one of the four who came close to being as downright hilarious as Morrison.  There are some excellently crafted jokes in his routine, but he also showed a great ability to ad lib and improvise, after an audience member took his words a little too seriously.  I left regretting missing out on seeing his Fringe show.  Maybe next year.

The Stand is open seven nights a week and it's no wonder that they continue to get good crowds when one of their bread and butter shows is of such high quality.

John Doyle

It's been a few months since I was last at a House concert and it felt good to be back, especially as tonight's act was one of the greatest musicians to come out of the Irish tradition.  Doyle rose to fame as the guitarist in renowned Irish-American band Solas and has worked as collaborator and producer with many stars from the folk world.

This solo performance had him playing both guitar and a guitar-bodied bouzouki, both with incredible virtuosity.  Most of the set was given over to songs, with a few tunes thrown in to the mix. he's an excellent vocalist.  The tone of the voice isn't particularly distinctive, but it has a pleasing sweetness in the higher notes and his phrasing is inventive and original.  It's sign of a vivid musical imagination when even the most hackneyed classic such as Wild Rover comes out sounding hot off the press, the rowdy drinking song transformed into an emotional ballad.  John can also knock out some pretty decent songs and tunes of his own, with the beautiful Liberty's Sweet Shore standing out as a fine example of the craft.

Doyle, with his boyishly infectious grin, engages well with his audience.  He can tell a good story and provided plenty background information to the songs, with laughs along the way.  There's plenty opportunities for the crowd to join in on choruses, a sea shanty that was new to me being a highlight for building up a swelling sound in the room.  And out of that crowd, to play a set of whistle tunes and sing a song, came the legend that is Cathal O'Connell.  He might be looking a bit more frail than of old, but he still whistle up a storm.  And it was impressive to watch Doyle pick up on tunes he hadn't heard before and develop accompaniments that were much more than a few simple chords.

And it's that guitar playing that will be my principle memory of the evening.  I would have preferred a few more tunes at the expense of some singing, because watching and listening to those digits dancing across the frets was a source of joy, but that's quibbling.  A fabulous performance and a performer not to be missed if you get the chance.

Aidan Goatley : 10 Films With My Dad, Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh Fringe

A Fringe classic.  After five years playing to Edinburgh audiences, and having been toured to various countries around the world, today was the two hundred and second, and (probably, you never know....) last performance of 10 Films With My Dad.  It was good to see it retire with glory, with a large and enthusiastic audience there to mark it's passing.

Goatley and his dad never talked much.  They just went to films together, and that formed the basis for their relationship.  Featuring (you guessed it) ten films they had shared, Aidan charts the highs and lows of their times together, and the uncanny powers of red wellies.  It's about communication, missed opportunities, but also the need to express feelings and how difficult that can prove from a man who's been taught to repress his.

Dad set up John Wayne as the perfect role model for his son, so one can only hope he isn't too disappointed with the result.  Goatley is unlikely to make a convincingly tough cowboy, because he's warm, welcoming, theatrical, mildly camp, and very, very funny.  Plus he delivers a memorable Michael Caine impression.  Lacking the budget to show clips from the films themselves, he has recreated some of the scenes using a few mates and his dog, and the results are amateurishly hilarious.  

Beyond the comedy there are some moving moments about inter generational misunderstandings and finding ways to make contact with one another.  This is the third year running that I've seen the show and there's still a few seconds when I found a few tears in my eyes.

So that's it, a Fringe legend is no more.  If you'd like to see what all the fuss was about here's a recording of the show from last year.  That says 'final performance' as well, but I think he may actually mean it this time....

Oh, and you'll get to see who the real star of the show is.  Hats off to Kimble the dog.

Joanna Neary : Faceful of Issues, Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh Fringe

Superb character comedy with Neary taking on the role of Celia, a housewife out of an Ealing comedy who's been cruelly dropped into the 21st century.  Aided by Centre-partin' Martin on guitar, occasional vocals and lisp, she presents her own special form of entertainment for your delectation.

It's all a bit village fete, with a fascination for the most mundane of subjects.  So we get to see, and even feel, some of the objects she's picked up at jumble sales, hear about her husband Fred, listen to some songs (she actually has a fine singing voice) and endure a story that might not be quite as suitable for Radio 4 as she hopes.  And a couple of members of the audience get to answer some very unusual questions.

It's all completely naff, but in a good way, as she skips about the stage, grinning at her own silliness.  A Joyce Grenfell for the modern world, Neary's Celia is the antidote to slickness and pretension.  Very funny and simply delightful.

Recommended.

Joanna Neary : Faceful of Issues is on in the Assembly Rooms at 19.45 until the 30th.

Luke Wright : Stay-at-Home Dandy, Underbelly, Cowgate, Edinburgh Fringe

Performance poetry is a term that puts a lot of people off.  It shouldn't, or at least not when it's the performance and poetry of someone with charisma, a mastery of words, an eye for absurdity and a cutting sense of humour.  Someone like Luke Wright.

He's a compelling presence on stage, a foppish dandy bursting with energy and life.  Yet much of his subject matter is the mundane, the minutiae of his other role as a stay at home dad looking after two small boys in a small Suffolk town.  There are tales and verses about the school run, the other parents, his own father, the characters around the town, and the occasional political rant.  He rages against the injustices and pomposities of life whilst displaying an intimate love of his life as a father.

All of this delivered in soaring passionate language, using a vocabulary and structure and rhythm and beat and style to make any pop song seem vapid.  Don't let the word 'poetry' put you off seeing this man, this is pure entertainment, engaging and unpretentious.

Highly recommended.

Luke Wright : Stay-at-Home Dandy is on in Underbelly, Cowgate at 18.20 until the 30th.

Nick Doody : T'ai-Po, Canon's Gait, Edinburgh Fringe

From bizarre, self referential, imaginary conversations to leaving the stage as a triumphant winner, Doody is always sharp, imaginative, original and provides the odd stab of darkness and controversy.  There are some lovely flights of fancy, but mostly this is solid observational comedy with his own take on everyday banalities.

Nick brings an aura of confidence to the stage and the audience feels in safe hands throughout. He says he knows well his own place in the comedy hierarchy, and his metaphor to illustrate this is both hilarious and just a little disgusting.   The hour long performance flows along well and has been carefully structured, building up to the triumph at the end.  Although it's the image of penis kennels that will remain with me....

Nick Doody : T'ai-Po is on in the Canon's Gait at 21.35 until the 29th.

Simon Caine : Buddhism and Cats, Just the Tonic at The Caves, Edinburgh Fringe

This was a strange gig.  Caine is clearly talented, but, for whatever reasons, failed to really ignite his audience on this occasion.  I would often find myself almost the only person laughing at some lines, while other people found other bits funny, but the audience rarely came together to laugh as one.

Simon battled on through, getting us involved as best he could, and if the end result was patchy it certainly wasn't unenjoyable.  There are some very good jokes in his routine, and he's at his best when the subject matter becomes confessional, or on his relationship with cats, when he gets something of a Woody Allen vibe into his delivery.

I did wonder if some direct interaction with the crowd could have sparked some life into proceedings, but maybe it was always destined to be one of those nights when things don't go quite right.

Simon Caine : Buddhism and Cats is on inJust the Tonic at The Caves at 19.30 until the 29th.

Kelly Kingham : Inside Out, Just the Tonic at the Caves, Edinburgh Fringe

Like an eleven year old boy in adult shape, Kingham is coy, awkwardly embarrassing, suddenly forceful.  He's also self deprecating, confessional, intimate.  More than that, he's very, very funny.

Covering marriage, imaginary friends, parents, jobs, ambitions and the need to have a dream, Kelly takes us into his inner unconfidence and deepest worries.  Inventive nonsense that paints a world on the edge of fantasy.

His delivery is unusual - Kingham Style (which is not some Korean song).  He can make you laugh with just a movement, a posture, saying "look at me, aren't I ridiculous?" - and, by implication, aren't we all?   His mocking of life is gentle, but to the point, and there are some wonderfully sharp throwaway lines so it pays to give him your full attention.

Recommended.

Kelly Kingham : Inside Out is on in Just the Tonic at The Caves at 17.00 until the 29th.

Comedy Manifesto, Liquid Room Annexe, Edinburgh Fringe

Hosted by well known comedian Kate Smurthwaite the show features two teams in a panel game format.  The team captains are Phil Loweth and Angie Belcher, this time assisted by Mr Meredith and James Farr.  After a few topical jokes from Kate, and a brief stand up routine from each contestant, the first round is the picture quiz, photos from recent news stories.  Followed by a match the headline to the story round and finally the manifesto section of the show.  In this each contestant puts forward their own idea for a policy that should be adopted.

There's much daftness, some sharp political comments, and chances for the audience to join in.  All good fun, with a mild satirical edge and plenty of laughs.  The show, of course, is entirely different every day so you could easily go more than once.  It can be a good way of finding comedians you might not otherwise come across.

Oh, and Phil's suggestion of a mean tax - the more unpleasant you are, the more tax you pay - won the audience manifesto vote on the day.

Comedy Manifesto is in the Liquid Room Annexe at 15.25 until the 30th.

Vladimir McTavish : Scotland, 45 Events That Shaped a Nation, Stand 5, Edinburgh Fringe

One of the established stars of Scottish comedy, McTavish serves up a sideways look at Scottish history, with special attention going to the sometimes bizarre political events of the last twelve months.  An unashamed Yes voter in the 2014 Indyref (there's a clue in the show title!), he has his own take on the rise of the SNP, the numptiness of Jim Murphy and wondering who exactly is Willie Rennie.

There's a great flight of fancy when he imagines posh people of the future celebrating an Irvine Welsh night, and a nice observation on the only time the Orange Lodge ever looked to the future.  He also likes to get to know his audience a bit, but never puts pressure on anyone.

You don't have to be Scottish to enjoy this show.  But it probably helps to know someone who is.  And it was refreshing to be part of that rarest of beasts, a predominately Scottish Fringe audience.

Grand stuff.

Vladimir McTavish is on in Stand 5 at 18.15 until the 30th.

In the Pink A Capella Present Tuniversity Challenge, Surgeon's Hall, Edinburgh Fringe

In the Pink are an a capella group of seven women from Oxford University.   All have excellent voices, all get their turn at providing lead vocals.  There is no real standout singer in the group, no 'star', but nor are there any weak links.  There are some beautiful arrangements and harmonies, and they make a good job of providing a rhythm section when required.

The choice of songs seemed a little odd and it was hard to work out what kind of audience they were hoping to attract.  The majority of numbers were reworkings of contemporary pop songs, which were largely lost on a crowd where the average age might have been around sixty (not that I helped to lower it).  There was a curious Disney medley, an old Scots song and one classic rock number (Proud Mary), but much of the music chosen was too bland and uniform.

Stranger still was the format in which the songs were placed.  A faux University Challenge contest never really worked as a device and it would have been a much better show with simple introductions between each number.  As singers they might all have been operating at a similar level, but the quality of the acting talents on show varied considerably.

Charming, but disappointing.

In the Pink A Cappella Presents Tuniversity Challenge are at The Space at Surgeon's Hall at 16.40 until the 29th.

Mel Moon : Sick Girl, Counting House, Edinburgh Fringe

Moon relates the tale of her own life over the past few years, a period in which she became seriously ill, was eventually diagnosed as having an incurable and life threatening condition, and contemplated suicide as her best way out of the life she felt trapped in.  Clearly, since she's here to tell us all this in the form of a stand up comedy show, we know what the end result of that last part was....

This could so easily be a morbid show, one you might emerge from in tears.  There are certainly dark moments, and some very moving passages, but this is billed as a comedy show and Mel never lets her audience stay down for long.  In Moon-world every cloud has a silver punchlining.  This show is far, far funnier than the subject matter suggests, because Mel Moon is a very funny woman.

If I tell you that the show has an uplifting ending please don't get the impression this is going to be some sort of American-style self help bollocks.  It's fun, involving, thought provoking  and will send you off with a smile on your face and happy to chuck cash into the proffered bucket.  (This is a Free Fringe show.)

Afterwards, as I made my way down to the outside world, I thought about the irony of sticking a show called Sick Girl at the top of a long and winding staircase.  Maybe that's why it's such a hidden gem?

Highly recommended.

Mel Moon : Sick Girl is in The Counting House at 12.05 until the 30th.

The Big Bite Sized Breakfast Show, Pleasance Dome, Edinburgh Fringe

A return to the Pleasance Dome for another helping of Breakfast.  We were there three weeks ago so there's no need to remind you of the format.  This time we saw Menu Three and six playlets.

Once again the show was fast paced, funny, sharply scripted and very well acted.  And once again some interesting themes were touched on.  The ways in which our old friends can become an embarrassment to us as we move on in life, the excesses of capitalism and the stupidity of modern selling techniques, the dislocation of commitment phobia and the madness and neediness of social media and celebrity.  Plus a very clever drama in which every line was a single word.

Once again all six actors gave excellent performances, but the standouts this time were Annie Harris and Katrina Holloway, the former sharp and sassy as a sex worker, the latter bringing pathos to a duck.  Yes, really.  You should see it to know what I mean.

The Big Bite Size Breakfast show is in the Pleasance Dome at 10.30 and runs until the 31st.

Reginald D Hunter : Bitchproof, Pleasance, Edinburgh Fringe

Hunter introduced himself with an explanation of why people thought he had lost his anger, and with it his comedy edge.  Not having seen him live before I can't say if there's a change or not, but I was surprised by just how laid back, and at times indecisive, he appeared to be,

Which isn't to say he wasn't funny.  Or, at times, edgy.  A largely white, liberal-minded audience can be easily made to feel guiltily uncomfortable by a black comedian and Reg uses that to good effect.  Enough to provoke a bit of thought about your own world view and the nature of perceived prejudices.  You're forced to listen closely if you really want to work out the validity of your own reactions to some of his material.

It isn't all about racism and bigotry though, and Hunter mixes arrogance and self deprecation in telling tales from his personal life and relationships.  In doing so he shows a surprising vulnerability and you can't but warm to him.  He also gets the audience involved a bit, through a few one to one interactions, and a selection of vox pops.  His reactions to these were close to bemused at times and he seems constantly to be trying to figure people out.

This show won't have you falling out of your seat with laughter, although it is genuinely funny.  But it does provide an idiosyncratic view of the world and some thought provoking material that might make you question your own beliefs.

Reginald D Hunter : Bitchproof is on in the Pleasance at 20.00 until the 30th.

A Very Tall Storrie, Counting House, Edinburgh Fringe

Ashley Storrie had her audience laughing before the show had even begun, up on the stage and bantering with all and sundry as they found their seats.  So we were in a good mood by the time things got underway properly and the laughs continued for the next hour.

Effortlessly funny, Ashley has a lot to say about her unusual home life, the impact of puberty, the perils of having sex with shorter men and how to chat men up (or not....).  She also has a novel way of dealing with catcalling builders.  There's much there that's traditional comedy subject matter, but she's able to provide an original spin to most topics, and an infectious grin that dares you not to laugh.  Storrie also works well with her audience, bringing individuals into the show without putting any pressure on them.

Although she can be tough enough when required.  As her ejection of a chatting group of evil robot creators (I may not have that quite right....) proved.  The audience approved.

Very funny stand up and definitely worth a visit.

 A Very Tall Storrie is on in the Counting House at 18.15 until the 30th.

Paul Harry Allen's Retro Delights, Finegan's Wake, Edinburgh Fringe

Allen loves junk shops, charity shops and car boot sales for the chance to rummage around and dig out surprising objects from the past of others.  This has given him a large collection of kitsch pottery, photos of unknown people, and, his first love, rubbishy LPs, and this show is his chance to share some of the funniest and weirdest stuff he's picked up.

The first half of the show is given over to the pottery and pictures, with plenty opportunity to wonder who would buy something like that, or actually choose to sit that way in front of a photographer.  There's some fun to be had from this, but it's a bit hit and miss at times.  I was surprised, given evidence from his previous Edinburgh show, that he didn't invent more fictional backstories to bring the objects to life.  This could have been more successful than going for quicker punchlines.

Things improve greatly when full attention is put on to his record collection, especially 'party' records, with a strong reminder of just how creepy the 60s and 70s now look from a modern day perspective.  There are a lot of laughs to be had from the oddity of the album covers, bizarre nature of some of the contents, and snippets of tracks with surprising lyrics.  We even get to join on one of the corniest singalongs you could imagine.

Allen's amiable style make him easy to like and enjoy.  For lovers of oddities from our not so distant past, and anyone looking for a reminder of how much the world has moved on in the last fifty years, this is the show for you.

Paul Harry Allen's Retro Delights is on in Finegan's Wake at 15.45 until the 29th.

BBC Presents... Comedy with Ed Byrne, BBC Potterrow, Edinburgh Fringe

Ed Byrne as MC introducing a variety of comedy acts who are on at the Fringe.  Byrne opened with a routine from his own show, then brought on the acts.

Ryhs Nicholson opened, an iconoclastic Australian with a fine line in bitchy campness.  Great stuff on gay rights and the differences between Australia and.... more civilised countries.

American sketch duo The Pyjama Men were next.  Fast paced character comedy with a touch of the surreal, pyjamas, and a lot of laugh out loud moments.  They were followed by Tiff Stevenson whose Fringe show has been getting rave reviews and it was just about possible to see glimpses of why that's the case.  But this was a lacklustre performance that never really built up any momentum.  Tired perhaps?

American David Wills is so laconic that it would be hard to tell his lively and torpid moments apart.  A very dry, cocktail bar style delivers some sharp observations on the world, and an excellent routine on transgender issues.

Another sketch act, Massive Dad are not big, or fathers, but three young women with great imagination.  Carefully constructed scenarios build up to big laughs and hit a few targets along the way.  The penultimate act was Glen Wool, the Canadian we'd seen a few days ago in the same setting.  He delivered the same routine as before and - guess what? - it was just as funny as last time.

The final act was also the best known, Andrew Maxwell.  A good professional set to round of the night.  And Byrne did an excellent and enthusiastic job running the show.

Did any of the participants win me over?  They certainly did.  Nicholson, Massive Dad and Wool or all on my want-to-see list.  Although time is running out for Fringe 2015.  Maybe next year....

This was a one-off event in the BBC Big Blue Tent.

Broken Biscuits (Lantern Theatre), The Space on the Mile, Edinburgh Fringe

Rita is mourning the death of her only son in Afghanistan, killed when saving the life of the son of her best friend Maggie.  Struggling to cope with the life left to her, she can't help herself from blaming her friend for having a son who's alive when hers has gone.

The drama is played out at Rita's front door, she inside, Maggie on the doorstep.  With the latter, despite every effort, unable to bridge the physical or figurative gap between them.  The set conveying this has been cleverly constructed and there's some nice offstage work to keep the action flowing.

Excellent performances from the two leads, Leanne Martin as Rita and Jane Hogarth playing Maggie.  Possibly better than the script deserves.  From the off the efforts being made to emotionally manipulate the audience feel too heavy handed, and there are a lot of obvious cliches along the way.  There is only one really good laugh to lighten things a bit.  The author's intention may have been for the brief appearances of a third character, an annoying teenager called Molly, to provide some levity, but she just came across as distractingly insensitive.

The play is certainly well intentioned, but too clunky to generate a real sense of involvement.  At least the performances do provide a lot to enjoy.

Broken Biscuits is on in The Space on the Mile at 19.20 until the 29th.

Porky the Poet in Apologist Now!, Liquid Room Annexe, Edinburgh Fringe

Aka Phill Jupitus

Once again Jupitus revives his original performance incarnation and brings it to the Free Fringe.  Old poems, new poems.  Funny, political, quirky.  With some old fashioned comedy thrown in.

Jupitus clearly has a way with words, a feel for language, and an ear for the rhythms and cadences of speech.  There's everything from a seven verse epic to a series of haiku.  And his project to produce a ten line poem for every day of the Fringe, using only show titles for each line, is fascinating.

Don't come to see a comedian, come for the words, the meaning, the poetry.  And get some comedy as a bonus.

A very enjoyable hour.

Phill Jupitus is Porky the Poet in Apologist Now! is on in the Liquid Room Annexe at 17.20 until the 30th.

PS I wonder if any member of the audience will impress Phill more than my wife did when she admitted the first gig she ever went to was The Beatles....?

David Tsonos : Walking the Cat, Just the Tonic at The Caves, Edinburgh Fringe

A stand up show in which the title is actually reflected in much of the content.  Which makes a change.

Tsonos tells stories about the cat he inherited from his ex 16 years ago.  And other animals.  He's got nice easy (Canadian) delivery and lots of self deprecation, with a lot of decent punch lines.  There's some excellent jokes about cats, dogs and airport security.

You can tell who's a real pro comedian by how they handle a small self conscious audience, and Tsonos did a good job.  It didn't help that he was having to self censor a bit because some idiots had brought their 11 year old daughter into a show advertised as 16+ (can these people read?), but he always manage to keep the crowd with him.  And delivered a big finish with his routine about national animals.

Good fun and well worth a look.  But don't take your wee kids along, eh?

David Tsonos : Walking the Cat is on at Just the Tonic at The Caves at 14.45 until the 29th.

Tom Binns : The Club Sets, George Square Gardens, Edinburgh Fringe

Binns presents a variety show featuring three acts - all, of course, played by Tom Binns.  There's Ian D Montfort, a psychic with less than uncanny mystic powers; 'Tom Binns', the ventriloquist who hasn't quite mastered keeping his mouth from moving; and Ivan Brackenbury, the hospital DJ with the most inappropriate taste in music.   And the thread running throughout is the art of making it look all wrong, even when you can do it right.  Binns kept reminding me of Les Dawson playing the piano or Tommy Cooper messing up a trick.

Montfort plays with, toys with, his audience to poke fun at the con tricks and gullibility essential to 'real' psychic acts, by never quite getting it right.  Then slips in a genuine trick at the end.  It's easy to see why this character has his own full one hour show elsewhere on the Fringe.

Binns' ventriloquist brings out a family of characters - his parents, wife, children and a couple of oddities - all of whom have some curious speech defect that prevents them from speaking properly - especially words beginning with B....  But there's a lot more to this act than poor pronunciation and the backstories of the characters are funny in themselves.

The most quickfire laughs come from Brackenbury who talks about a patient's illness then unintentionally plays the record most likely to upset them.  Hilarious, but ultimately a more limited character than the others and Binns sensibly keeps it shortest.

This show is extremely funny throughout, requires an audience that pays attention as there are several half-hidden gags lurking in the undergrowth, and is definitely one for lovers of irony.  Oh, and there's a really good political joke sitting in there too.  Binns is a huge talent and should be much better known than he is.

Highly recommended.

Tom Binns : The Club Sessions is on in the Bosco Theatre, George Square at 12.40 until the 31st.

Joseph Morpurgo : Soothing Sounds for Baby, Pleasance, Edinburgh Fringe

A sixty minute delve into the bizarre imagination of Morpurgo.  Intricately constructed, the show's core has Joseph being interviewed by an increasingly disturbed Kirsty Young on Desert Island Discs.  Each weird musical choice is the cue for a mini sketch and a chance for Morpurgo to show off his ability to create a range of characters.  Running alongside is a sub plot tracing the story of Morpurgo's lost teenage love.  And do keep your eyes on the screen during the costume changes, there are some great throwaway lines up there.  Variety is a constant.

Some sketches have  audience participation, some are ironically nostalgic, some are surprisingly dark - with Winnie the Pooh re-imagined as a tale of horror being a highlight.  All are original and mostly very funny.

Intelligent, multi layered and at times quite surreal, if you enjoy humour that demands your full attention, and admire an inventiveness that mashes up genres and formats, then this might just be your thing.

Joseph Morpurgo : Soothing Sounds for Baby is on in the Pleasance at 2015 until the 31st.  The Fringe website is showing all shows as sold out.

Backstage in Biscuit Land, Pleasance, Edinburgh Fringe

Jess Thom has Tourettes.  Hence the name of her superhero alter ego, Tourettes Hero.  Tourettes is a condition that expresses itself through compulsive physical and verbal 'tics', frequently repetitive.  And Jess' most common verbal tic is 'Biscuit', whence comes the title of this show.

Each show is unique.  The structure might be the same each time, but the level of her Tourettes makes it impossible for her to stick rigidly to words on a page and the result is some surprising non sequiturs.  When there's someone on stage can say literally anything at an time the script tends take a bit of a hammering.  It also means that the other half of this double act, the unflappable Jess Mabel Jones, has to be VERY good at improv and ad libbing!

The show is partly educational/informative.  It looks to explain away the common myths surrounding Tourettes, illustrate the problems the condition can cause in Jess' life, and highlight the levels of creativity it can unleash.  So much of what she says is hilarious so it's as well the audience is given 'permission' to laugh from the off.  It would be impossible not to.

In addition to the informative stuff Thom delivers some very moving moments and if you don't come away filled with admiration for the woman you've probably had an empathy bypass.

If you'd like to see a show with hedgehogs, penguins, Xmas, tits, buzzards, maltesers, pizza and ducks in disguise, or possibly even none of the above, then this is for you.  And there will be biscuits, lots and lots of biscuits.

Learn something and laugh a lot.  Superb.

Backstage in Biscuit Land is on in the Pleasance at 17.00 until the 30th.


Edit :

After posting this I found a photo Twitter taken at the show, providing evidence that me and my friend Kenny became involved in the promotion of bestiality at the end of the show.  Here's the evidence.

Photo courtesy of Anna Bruce  (@tweetannabruce)

Bridget Christie : A Book For Her, Stand, Edinburgh Fringe

Christie is generally portrayed as a feminist comedian and while it's true that there are strong feminist themes throughout the label rather unjustly seems to cast her as a bit of a one trick pony.  There's a lot of arguments being explored in this hour, with injustice the linking factor.

There's a wonderful passage about Nigel Farage being a character created by a comedian (although it makes you feel sad to remember he's actually real....) and some good stuff on the discomfort that white people feel trying to discuss racism.  She picks on the Tories for their evil behaviour and Labour for their general uselessness.  There's no lecturing involved, instead she's just very, very funny.

Highly recommended.

Bridget Christie : A Book For Her is in the Stand at 11.00 until the 31st.  The Fringe website is showing all dates as sold out.