Dean Owens and the Sinners, Traverse

 

The now-traditional pre-Xmas home gig for Dean, this time with his four piece band, the Sinners, was as rowdy as ever, and even more emotional.  This was the first time without his parents in attendance (his mother was ill), so it was a tough one for the main man

The band featured long time associate Craig Ross on guitar, Adam McMillan on upright bass, and Philip Cardwell and Charles Dearness on trumpet.  The latter formed an important element of the night, because for the first half Dean mostly offered up material from his most recetn trio of albums, all with a strong Tex-Mex feel and brass backing.  That allowed for some very different arrangements on some older material, and that freshness made the familiar feel new.

Owens took an early opportunity to get the audience involved, not just singing along, but humming and whistling too.  Cue much laughter...

The second half opened with Dean playing solo, determined to get through his own tribute to his father, The Man from Leith.  With his voice starting to crack up from the emotion this time it was the crowd's turn to help him out, as we knew the words as well as he did.  It was one of those moments only live music can provide.  Ross helped him out with his next number, and then the full band returned to provide a rockeir feel to procreedings.  The crowd involvement level remained high, and the final number, appropriately The Last Song, was belted out by every voice in the bar, even those new to Dean's work.  

One final turn of the screw.  Deam solo to sing his mother's favourite song, After the Rain.  Another notch on the emtions, another test for the audience vocal chords.  Lovely stuff.

In all this I've said nothing much about the musicianship, which was solid, Ross as impressive a guitarist as ever. And Dean's vocals, some understandable cracking aside, is still as distinctive and plaintive as ever.

But this wasn't a night that was just about the music.  The Owens pre-Xmas gig is always a special one.  More so both for the reasons above, and for this being the final Travertse gig to be put on by Soundhouse, who have done so much for live music in this city.  All the best to Douglas and Jane-Anne in the future.

England and Son, Traverse

Something a bit different, at least in terms of format. For the section before the interval Mark Thomas emerged without fanfare, sat in a chair centre stage, and chatted to the audience, as himself. He explained how he first met the writer (Ed Edwards) of the play we were about to see, and the origins of the play itself. An important element of their working relationship is that both work with addicts at a centre in Manchester, teaching them drama and giving them the means to express themselves in a more literate fashion than they might have managed previously. Thomas being Thomas, this comes complete with impressions of the people he worked with, and was hilarious. But also gave a flavour of what it's like to be a recovering addict.

The play itself follows, where Thomas plays the 'son' of the title, as well as myriad other characters as they crop up. It's an often moving portrayal of an abusive childhood, and how the lack of self-worth that engenders that can feed into addiction and repetition of the cycle. The action is set during the eighties, where the actions of the Thatcher regime resulted in mass unemployment, the growth of the black economy, and an exponential increase in drugs use.

That Thomas' character is surnamed England, in the eponymous country that was in such great social decline, seems a heavy handed way of hammering home the metaphor we're presented with. But the script largely avoids a swerve into didacticism, and generates sympathy for 'son', very much the victim. It helps greatly that Thomas is the performer, with his trademark high energy, motormouthing style, his ability to improvise interactions with the audience, and deliver laugh upon laugh, yet still wring the pathos from the character's sodden lifestyle.

Hugely entertaining, and makes it's point well. Definitely worth seein

Boo Hewerdine and Heidi Talbot, Traverse

 Each a folk-world star in their own right, this very much a partnership of equals. Heidi's voice clear and a thing of beauty, Boo's expressive and calm. There's no fancy guitar work, but solid accompaniments enhancing the vocals, and some lovely harmonies when they combine. Each took it in turn to sing, both digging into their deep (very, very deep in Boo's case, going back to his days with cult band The Bible) back catalogues. A mix of tempos and subjects, with Heidi adding the traditional Bedlam Boys, all mashed up with Parton's Jolene.

All this and a comedy act too. Boo knows how to tell a good story, and his dry humour had the audience in stitches, while Heidi had a few tales to tell too. Both got the room singing along with them at times, notably on Boo's 'hit' song, Patience of Angels.

The encore gave us a duet of the classic What a Wonderful World, as made famous by Louis Armstrong, but this was one of the best versions I've ever heard.

A wonderful gig that flew by too quickly.

Frank & Percy, The Other Palace Theatre, London

 Percy (Ian McKellen) and Frank (Roger Allam) connect over dog walks on the Heath, and start to arrange to be out there at the same time each day.  First comes the usual dog-owners chit chat, but as the friendship grows they learn more about one anoother.  Frank, a retired seventyish teacher, is a widower still trying to find a place in life after the death of his beloved Alice.  Percy is an eightyish professor and controverialist, still actively writing and being published, who has long ago settled into the single life since her broke up with 'husband' (they were never officially married) Dennis.  

This casual acquaintenceship grows into something much deeper, and physical, as they meet more often, and Frank visits Percy's flat.  And that relationship finds itslef challenged by tsome of the changes which are an inevitable part of the ageing process.

In some ways the script is disappointingly devoid of any real meat, and what we have is very much in the light comedy genre, with both performers having fun whilst using their considerable skills to milk the laughs dry.  

That's not to say it doesn't introduce some more profound themes, but they are largely glossed over in favour of the funnies.  It's still good to see a late-life love affair played out before us, still too much a rarity in theatre and cinema.  Desire, lust and love are all there, along with illness, impotence, grief and loneliness.  Frank's recogntion of himself as a bi man feels a bit heavy handed, (although his Pride costume will live in the memory!). and that line of self examination is a recurring motif.

The set is minimal but flexible, the scene locations cleverly deliniated, and custume changesd, such as they are, often take place on stage.  

While it was a little disappointed to be oresented with somethign so lightweigt, this was more than compensated by seeing two old master paint their pictures before you.  Great fun.

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

 Disfunction is the truth or dare card game, with a bit of role play thrown in, that sisters Moira (Maureen Beattie) and Melanie (Maureen Carr) have played, and developed, over the course of their lives. It's high risk stuff, or can be if played with a passion, because it can unearth secrets that are sometimes best left alone.

But the siblings are in dire financial straits, so their goddaughter Tanya (Betty Valencia) has proposed selling Disfunction to a gaming company, and they are to give a demonstration, via Zoom, in a few minutes. Are they ready?

They start playing and secrets and tensions emerge. How far are they prepared to go to get the contract? And are the real sisters as dysfunctional as their game play suggests?

The opening twenty minutes feel a bit too slow, and the games itself is far too confusing for audiences to understand in a 50 minutes drama, but the pace, and laughter, picks up as things get more heated. Secrets and lies, ridiculous dares. While the performances are excellent (although Valencia was often hard to hear properly), and Carr in particular gets to show off her gifts for physical comedy (her cake eating sequence is hilarious), the confusion of the game leaks into the script. It's a ll a bit too muddled to make any real sense.

Fun, enjoyable, but ultimately unsatisfying.

Meetings With The Monk (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 Performed and written by Brian James O'Sullivan, this is a semi-autobiographical tale of how he emerged from a low point in his life.

I say "tale", but that would be to minimise the cleverness of the "play" structure. Over the 50 minutes we see 3 Brians - the performer, the writer, and the character - as he both tells and deconstructs his story. Oh, and he even does the introduction that, in a more conventional production, would be done my a member of the Traverse staff.

If this sounds confusing the reality is different, as O'Sullivan guides through exactly what he's doing, providing his own narrator as part of the performance. It's all very meta, but done in such an entertaining way that it enhances rather than hinders. He uses a goodly number of props, and all of the space, right into the audience, to keep things mixed up, but the central story is never neglected.

The character Brian has been depressed, and seeks a way forward by spending a period in a monastery. One of the monks, Brother Felix (who, during the meetings, is played by the recorded voice of another actor, and spurs a bit of improv from O'Sullivan), talks with him, revealing his own humanity, ways of dealing with problems, and prompting Brian to look more within himself for what he needs.

It's a hugely entertaining show, full of laughs, but with some serious points to make. And if there's not really any profound ending, no answer to life, perhaps it offers something better than such trite simplicity. One of the best PPPs I've ever seen.

Pierre Schryer and Sean Gray, Traverse

 Schryer is a versatile fiddler from Ontario, with a large dose of excellent in the French Canadian perciussive skill of podorythmie. Gray is a guitarist, flautist and singer from south west Scotland. Although they've known one another for many years, this is the first time they've toured together. And it looked like a lot of fun for them both.

The first half gave us a strong international flavour, with tunes from France, Canada, Ireland and Scotland, some old, some new, plus a couple of Ayrshire songs, in Lallans, from Gray. And a mix of sensitivity and speed from the playing of both parties. The fiddler dazzles with imagination and variety in his play, the guitarist matching him with deceptively simple accompaniments and surprise moments.

The quality was increased by the third member of the act, who put in a few appearances for appropriate tunes. Danielle Emblom is a Minnesotan step dancer who brings joy to her performance and another layer of percussive accompaniment to the sets. It's just a shame that, in the Traverse bar, only the first couple of rows were able to observe her flying footwork. But the sheer energy and accomplishment of her dancing was obvious to all.

The second set brought further international influences, with a Middle Eastern tune to open, and a Brazilian towards the end. The pace of all three performers increased as things went on, and when they audience called for an encore this one was heartfelt. It helped that both Pierre and Sean are entertaining speakers, give interesting introductions to their material, and frequently fire off one another.

A glorious evening.

Lau, Queens Hall

 A largely similar show to that of April last year, and yet also completely different. The most obvious difference being the addition of Kathryn Joseph to the show. But it's the constant variations and improvisations that constantly refresh even weel kent tunes, and the Martin Green inspired electronic weirdness.

Not ones for the usual format, the trio came on and played a couple of standards from their back catalogue, with the simplicity of fiddle, accordion, guitar and Drever's vocals. Only then did support act Joseph come on, to play keyboard and sing. The first two numbers with the Lau boys doing her backing, then a few on her own. She's got a good voice, and the sparse Piano accompaniment suits her well, but it felt very one paced, mournful even. The interval was welcomed.

The second half was very different, with a long mash of tunes, songs, electronics, ethereal segues, movement of microphone stands, theatrics and even physical comedy. They use the full stage, and the choreography required is complex. Joseph joined them as backing singer, and her voice was well suited to the job, notably on Toy Tigers. It was all as impressive to watch as to listen to.

They ended the night, all four of them, singing the haunting Ghosts, which is as relevant as ever, given the continuing bigotry towards refugees. A beautiful end to an invogorating evening.

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

 A romcom musical with a heavy dosage of sentimentality and emotional manipulation. Sounds a bit too Hollywood for the Traverse? You'd not be far off.

Kit (Daisy Ann Fletcher) and Rowan (Craig Hunter) have met up in a scruffy public park to scatter the funeral ashes of a loved one onto a pond. It's a slightly tense encounter, what with them being past lovers. In fact they were engaged before she left him. So why are they doing this together? And are they're affections for one another still alive?

While much of the script is in natural dialogue, there are several songs - of the tune free variety so beloved by the modern musical. Even a bit of dancing. Both have decent voices, with Fletcher the pick of the pair, both for her singing and acting performances. The music doesn't really add anything, and I found myself getting bored during those parts of the action, and waiting for things to move along.

Just when it looks like we're moving towards a predictable ending a twist arrives which Hollywood would feel very much at home with), although there have been clues along the way. The emotional manipulation comes on strong at this point. There is some effort to provide a few thoughts on the subject of grief, but song isn't really the vehicle for something that serious.

There were some strong jokes scattered through the 50 minutes, and a well acted scene where some ducks exert an influence, but overall I was glad to see the end arrive.  

The Sheriff of Kalamaki (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

Dion is the 'Sheriff' of the Zakynthos holiday town.  He is because Big Yannis says he is (and because he asked for the title), and he's there to be the local law enforement.  That his duties include looking out for mainland police and the excise hasn'r raised his suspicions.  He's been on the island a long, long tiem, done many jobs, had a lot of drink and drugs, and he loves it all.  Doesn't he?  His world is so beautiful (while admitting he'd love to describe it all, if only he had the mind of a poet) and people respect him.  He's somone in the town.

So why is he so keen to hide away when he here's there's a man, a fellow Scot, looking for him?  Especially when it turns out that that man is his long estranged brother, come to save him from his alcoholic poverty.  Or is he?  As we hear about the family history it's clear there are other motives at play on both sides.

They're played by real life brothers Paul and Stephen McCole, who take Douglas Maxwell's clever script along at a cracking pace.  It's an interesting (and demanding) work structurally, with a long monologue from each sibling, broken by short peiods of dialogue in the middle and ending.  Which works well, because the overriding theme is the myths and delusions we tell ourselves so that we can emerge as the heroes of our own stories, and the doubts and realities that spoil the perfection of our tales.  The monologues allow the characters to say who they want to be seen as, and the imperfections in those pictures.

Both performances are impressive.  Paul's Dion is funny, friendly, immediately likeable in spite of all of his obvious flaws.  Stephen plays brother Ally as a man of god, buttoned up, hypocritical.  Both are delusional about their true sevels.  But aren't we all?

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

 Following the death of one of their mothers, two half brothers agree to go on a road trip to finally get to know one another, having grown up totally apart.  Kay (Beruce Khan) is the elder, resentful of the father that deserted him and his late mum, and had to grow up too soon.  Jay (Hamzah Aftab) is still, he thinks, the rebel of his youth, carelss of society's conventions.  The unlikely couple set off, with the conversation stilted and the silences awkward, hoping that they will bond along the way.  Well, Kay does.

Car problems mean things don't quite go as planned, forcing the brothers closer, and the conversation, and the admissions, become more and more personal.  Histories are explored, resentments aired, parents analysed, until a crisis grabs their joint attention and they are forced to make a decision that affects them both.  

The scrpit has a few stumbles along the way, and Khan is the more convincing of the two, but it's an enjoyable romp, often funny, and sometimes moving.  Was Philip Larkin right about your parents?  You'd think so from Coast.

Hannah Rarity, Traverse

 A rarity indeed, for this ended up feeling like one of the most perfect music gigs I have been to. A stunning voice, backed by sparse but thoughtful accompaniment, plenty of laughs and personality, an enthusiastic , appreciative audience who enjoyed a bit of a singalong. What more could you ask for?

With John Lowrie on piano, and Innes White providing guitar and backing vocals, Rarity sang somgs from both her solo albums, and a few more besides.  The purity of her voice is enhanced by the simplicity of the accompaniment, but both musicians got a chance to do sols that showed what they're capable of.  And Hannah is a relaxed performer, informative on the songs and often funny.  Plenty of emotion too, as she introduced Scotland Yet, and we remebered what might have been.

Wonderful.

Ship Rats (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 It's 1800 and something. On a sailing ship in the north Pacific a distressed woman seeks a hiding place. To her surprise and horror she is joined by the ship's cook, a Chinese man, who seems strangely reluctant to give her up to the crew who are hinting for her. But they are not a natural team. To her a Chinaman is a lower form of human. To him she's a bringer of bad luck to any ship. Can they overcome their mutual bigotry and distrust to save their lives?

While certainly attempting to challenge bigotry, Alice Clark's short play brings us stereotypes. She is hysterical, impulsive. He is wise in the use of herbs and roots as curatives. It all feels a bit cliched.

And a 19th century sailing ship, however big it might be, is not like a modern cruise liner. There are few real hiding places, let alone an actual cabin, and a search for two people, the two most recognisable individuals on board, wouldn't take long for a determined crew. I'm all for suspension of disbelief, but this felt like a step too far.

The performances from Maddie Grieve and Sebastian Lim-Seet are strong enough. There's plenty of swearing (their speech follows modern English usage), vomiting and blood. There are elements of tension, and several laughs, in an interesting set. But overall the weaknesses dominate and I found myself checking my watch with ten minutes to go - never a good sign. Not the worst in the PPP series that I've seen, but a long way from being one of the better ones.

My Father's Nose, Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 A man sobbing on a park bench. A woman walking past offers to help. He starts talking. His father died recently, and he has a terrible secret he can't share with anyone he knows. But maybe with a stranger...?

There's a surreal element to what follows, but a tragic tale of family history lies within. Through a series of flashbacks we learn of the pain and grief in his history, his relationship(s) with his father, and that we are never simply the products of our upbringing. There's a lot of mime involved, not always successful in explaining what's happening, and several songs, mostly very silly and very funny. The tune about the HMRC will be with you for some time afterwards!

While the performances sometimes falter, and the script can be a bit clunky, overall this a powerful piece of drama that's an enjoyable and thoughtful watch. A good end to our Fringe viewing.

This was the final performance of My Father's Nose.

Roddy Woomble, Rose Theatre, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

As Woomble remarked early on, this was very much a stripped back and low budget gig, and none the worse for it. Just Roddy and Andrew Mitchell, the latter playing keyboards, acoustic guitar and assorted electronic gizmos, as well as contributing backing vocals. Woomble played a bit of guitar, but left the clever stuff to his bandmate and concentrated on what he does best - singing in his own unique phrasing style.

The set was a mix of old and new.  Most of the latter from the new trio, Almost Nothing, that Woomble and Mitchell launched recently, largely upbeat and electronic.  While the old came from Woomble's back catalogue of solo albums, more reflective material, but dpresented with unfamiliar instrumentation, so that there was a sense of freshness to the entire gig.  Woomble was, as ever, a deceptively shapr and humourous presenter of songs, and his voical style is as smooth and distinctoive as ever.  If there was  alsightly shambolic, make do, element to the gig, this only added to the charm, and the hour passed quickly.  Storngly entertaining.

Fremont, Edinburgh International Film Festival

 It's in black and white, slow paced, nothing much happens. But that won't stop you enjoying Fremont.

Donya is a twenty-something Afghan, once a translator for the US Army, who manged to escape from her country, and the likely revenge of the Taliban, on one of the evacuation flights that left before Kabul fell. Now she's living in Fremont, California, in a tiny apartment, with largely Afghan neighbours, and working in a boring job in a Fortune Cookie factory. She can't sleep, she spends her evening watching TV with an old man, and life doesn't appear to hold out much home.

But then she starts to have sessions with Dr Anthony, a psychiatrist who's weirdly obsessed with White Fang, and gets a promotion at the factory so that now she's writing the fortunes to put in the cookies, life hints at the possibility of change. She tries to take some control for herself, but events dictate otherwise, and take her in an unexpected direction.

Anaita Wali Zada plays Donya as the calm, repressed centre of range of characters also trying to find their own answers. She holds in the traumas she has experienced in the war, and holds out this new world that she finds hard to navigate. The filming is intimate, lingering, allowing Zada time to give us hints of Donya's emotions behind the impassivity. The character has a deep strength that has survived much and will find her way to deal with this new environment.

As said above, nothing much happens. Yet the movie manages to give the audience themes of loneliness, displacement, women's right, culture clash, racism and, ultimately, love. The slow pace is a strength in getting to know Donya and understand her situation, and that she will find her own way to a better future.

Very satisfying, and definitely worth a watch.

The Black Blues Brothers, Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 Always read the small print?

In many years of booking tranches of Fringe shows it's long been my policy to mix it up. A few that offer familiar territory, reliable performers I know we'll enjoy, and a more random selection of the unfamiliar. Usually, with the latter, I'll do a bit of basic research, checking it doesn't bring us into areas we know, from experience, just aren't our thing. Like anything that says 'Magic' or 'Illusion' - terms to be avoided.

But then sometimes I break my own rules. The Black Blues Brothers sounded like it would be interesting, perhaps inspired by a Blues Brothers type show we went to a few years back (https://golive15.blogspot.com/2017/08/blues-brothers-live-c-venues-edinburgh.html), which was excellent. So I didn't do my background checks. Until the day itself, and then found myself faced with some of those trigger words that say 'Stay Away' - Acrobats, Circus. Oh dear...

But along I went anyway, to see what I would make of it all. And it was as bad, although at least no worse, than I was expecting. Any links to the real Blues Brothers were tenuous at best - some outfits, some music. But it might have been more realistic to name it The Black Full Monty - but without the storyline, or acting, or laughs, or raison d'etre...

The show opens with the five performers appearing, one by one, in costumes suggesting some kind of upper crust US bar, with a bit of mime to try and suggest that something is going on. But the furniture soon moves out the way, they are now all in a semblance of the classic Blues Brothers look, and they begin the first routine. It's already become clear why it's best if the 'acting' is kept to a minimum, because above all these are serious athletes. The acrobatics and choreography are impressive, with tumbling and leaps and catching and human pyramid style interactions. In between each set of leaping and tossing there's a small scenario going on, but it's mostly there to help them get their breath back, ready for the next exertion.

As I already said, their physicality and levels of rehearsal and trust are impressive. But this leads to a one-trick pony. Although they did bring some audience members up, and allowed them some limited participation, that couldn't hide the fact that what happens on stage is essentially repetitive - how could it be otherwise? Initially impressive yes, but swiftly tedious. There's also the weird practice of turning up the house lights on the audience after every routine, as if so needy that they had to see the levels of approval they were being given.

I don't often find myself checking my watch during Fringe shows, but the four times I did is an indication of how slowly time passed here. They received a standing ovation at the end so clearly there is an audience out there that laps this kind of fare up. But it ain't me babe!

The Black Blues Brothers is on at 15.05 in the Assembly Rooms until the 27th.

The Duncan and Judy Murray Show, New Town Theatre, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

The Other Murray Brother first appeared in 2019 as a BBC Scotland short (see it here), and subsequently spawned a series of short YouTube videos that got millions of hits. The videos featured Judy Murray and her lesser known son, Duncan (aka stand-up Chris Forbes) who, unlike his famous siblings, couldn't even hit a tennis ball. As the family embarrassment Judy had tried to keep his existence a secret, and she steadily developed her character as the exasperated parent

So here's the same couple transferred to the stage. Could the premise hold up sufficiently to maintain an hour long show? The answer is yes. And no...

It was clear that the central idea was too week to stand on it's own for that long, so the stage format is very different. Judy come son first, does a brief intro, and then comedian Des Clarke takes over as MC. 'Duncan' comes on soon after, looking for ways in which he can, finally, impress his mother. This involves him attempting various activities, to his usual low standard, and being judged on his performances. To break up the repetitive nature of this process, there are guests on to do short sets. Magician Colin Cloud performed some mind tricks, punster Darren Walsh delivered a few one liners. Two teenagers from the Murray family came on to dance, cheerleader style, with a flailing Duncan, and an audience member was dragged up to join in a horse race. Clarke held it all together in his usual calm manner. Proceedings climaxed with Duncan finally showing us he could be good at something.

Some ideas worked better than others, so there was a patchiness to the show, but with enough laughs to make this an entertaining hour. It won't win prizes for intellectual content, but it was a lot of fun. Forbes stays in character throughout, with some smart ad libs, and the odd nod to breaking the fourth wall. Murray, usually so deadpan in the (heavily edited!) videos, spent a lot of time corpsing and clearly enjoyed herself up there. And she can still deliver that deadpan when required. Overall I'd say a three out of five.

This was the final performance of The Duncan and Judy Murray Show.

Nan, Me and Barbara Pravi, Summerhall, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

OK, I admit it. I may not be the person you'd want to be writing this review- too old, too jaded, too cynical. Because this show seemed a bit too familiar, courtesy of so many others over the years in which some southern posho takes our money to indulge in their own therapy. But I'm an audience member, not a counsellor.

I'm being unfair, I know, because there's a lot to like about Hannah Maxwell's solo show, despite a rather confusing timeline. She's a good actor, dances well enough, and has a surprising singing voice. There's a clever use of tech throughout (the the tech desk person deserves their own plaudits), both visual and aural. It's an autobiographical tale about how acted as primary carer to her bereaved grandmother, while developing an obsessive crush on a French Eurovision singer (who, when I Googled turned out to be entirely non-fictional), and went off into a wild life that, while Nan was doing just fine, resulted in the younger member of the family breaking down (this doesn't really constitute much of a spoiler, as the outcome is an easy spot from early on). It's fast paced, visually interesting and has a fair bit of audience member participation. There are plenty of good jokes, but the grab for real pathos only brushes it's fingertips.

If you like seeing someone play out their neuroses in front of you then this could be the show for you. But...

Me, Nan and Barbara Pravi is on at 17.15 at Summerhall until the 27th.

Big Bite-Size Breakfast Menu Three, Pleasance Beyond, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 After the criticisms I made of Menu 2 (https://golive15.blogspot.com/2023/08/big-bite-size-breakfast-menu-two.html) I am pleased to report the Manu 3 sees the Bite-Size troup returning to their usual form. Six playlets crammed into the hour, and not a dud among them. Plenty of laughs, a couple of surprises, ands some surreal moments.

ANNIVERSARY

A long-married couple can't even be bothered to take each other for granted any more. But a contrived riddle might just make things better. A reminder of how important memories can be. No celeriac was harmed in the making of this play.

LA 8am

Two external narrators spell out the numbers on a couple having their breakfast. Nobody knows their future, do they?

NIBBLES

A fast food delivery cyclist turns up at your door, but instead of food they have bad news. Clever solo performance addressed direct to the audience, and with the best punchline of the set.

MURDER

How does it feel when your best friend gets all the success you think you deserve? Would you really want to kill them? We've all felt a bit jealous now and then, so everyone can see a bit of themselves in this one.

A RARE BIRD

A touch of magical realism in this touching tale of a woman undergoing an unusual life change, and seeking professional advice on how to handle it. The fantasy element of this story is well handled and takes you along for the flight.

BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE IN A LIVING ROOM DOING NOTHING

Existential angst turned up to volume 11. An elegant silver dress, a charming smoking jacket, a so conventional room. What's it all for? Can Timothy provide a solution that breaks the cycle? What?! Stylised and stylish.

And coffee and croissants and strawberries of course. Fast paced, well acted and frequently imaginative, Menu 3 is definitely worth seeing. (And is my personal favourite of this years trio of offerings.)

The Big Bite-Size Breakfast shows, with 3 alternating menus, are on at 10.20 in Pleasance Beyond until the 28th.

Ahir Shah - Ends, Monkey Barrel, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Shah feels guilty. In his personal life he's never been happier, with his wedding taking place later this year. But how can you be happy in a UK that's so fucked up and miserable? The rapid fire delivery throws a lot of information out in a short time, but the clear diction, infectious grin and pauses for numerous laughs make it easy to keep up with the pace, creating a swift rapport with his audience.

Much of the set is about dichotomy. The contrast between his Indian Asian background and British life. The ambivalence he feels in seeing one of his own becoming PM, yet hating everything the man stands for and does. The career as a comedian when his parents hoped he would be a doctor. The relative comfort and privilege of his own life compared to that of his grandparents who brought the family to this island. It's sharp observational comedy, with oblique slants on life and politics, smart and witty.

But further exploration of the lives of his grandparents, and the sacrifices they made to give their family a better life, take us into more complex and emotional territory. Notably of the racism they had, which, while still very much a thing in 2023, has reduced greatly. And Shah reminds us that the greatest compliment that society can offer is not to be noticed. Acceptance. Integration. He reflects that much of the bigotry he still experiences comes from the older generation (reminding me of how embarrassed so many of my peers make me feel), and will, hopefully, die out in time. Sunak is a symbol of that process, even if some of his ministers seem intent on reversing progress.

If there are moments that feel tearful they don't last long. Shah is far too skilful to allow an audience to become maudlin, and the darker elements of his story are still regularly punctuated with punchlines. This is one of those shows that reminds of just how much stand-up can, and should achieve, as thought provoking and informative as it is entertaining. It's comfortably the best comedy show I've seen this year.

Reginald D Hunter - The Man Who Could See Through Shit (A Work in progress), Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 Very much a Work in Progress, Hunter comes on, notebook in hand, and reassures the audience it will be alright. Shambolic, but entertaining. And so it proved.

His is a very philosophical humour, slow paced and meandering, looking for punchlines in societal issues. Defining what is a woman, Jews, mothers and sons, trans people, the function of stand up in society. Hunter doesn't shy away from controversial subjects, and brings unexpected slants into regularly heard discussions, where what comes next is never the expected. But always with plenty of laughs.

The show is evolving, will no doubt change night on night. But it will remain enjoyable, thought provoking, occasionally risky and definitely original.  

Reginald D Hunter - The Man Who Could See Through Shit is on at 19.55 in the Assnmbly Rooms until the 20th.

Luke Wright's Silver Jubilee, Pleasance Dome, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Wright has been a performing poet for a quarter of a century. So this a show to mark that significant milestone, which provides something of a life review - but with the political comment he's know for still a strong force within the work. His problem is that while he personally has never been so happy, he feels guilty about it because he can see the UK becoming ever more shit under the tories.

So the poems cover his life as a baby who was adopted, links to his birth family, his development as a performer and writer, and more. The verses are funny, poignant, responsible, with moments of genius thrown in. Particularly impressive were the univowel offerings, one using only the vowel A, another only O. And 7 versions of the notice of his birth, in varying poetic and musical styles. There's clever use of a screen too, with images of his life and clips of text from the internet, that demonstrate his life and interests.

Luke's machine vocal delivery gives you more words for your money, but his clear diction ensures that few get lost along the way. He's informative, teasing, joyous, life affirming. Here's the the next 25.

This was the final performance of Silver Jubilee at this year's Fringe.

Hannah Camilleri - Lolly Bag, George Square Studios, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 Car mechanic. School teacher. Cowboy. Posh and pregnant. Whiny child. And a dog at a cocktail party. All these and more portrayed by Camilleri in a fast paced fifty minute sketch show. Some work well, some don't, but they are always interesting. There were occasions when she's a bit slow in delineating what sort of character we're watching, in others it's instantaneous. But if there's one you don't like then don't worry, there will be another along in a couple of minutes.

The show relies heavily on audience interaction. While this, excitingly, makes it a different show every night, it also means the quality is partly dependent on how cooperative the crowd is in taking part. Without that some sketches stutter along and never really get into gear.

There were plenty of laughs though, and it was always easy to admire the inventiveness of the personas, and the synchronicity of the tech - this is one of the more demanding 'solo' shows for the person in charge of sound and light. I'm glad I went along, because it's always good to see something a bit different from the norm, but, at least with this audience, not always as entertaining as it could be.

Hannah Camilleri - Lolly Bag is on at 21.10 until the 27th.

Travelling Folk, BBC Dynamic Earth, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 A review in two parts this time - Before, and During.

In past years BBC Fringe shows have been held in their Big Blue Tent, or, last year, a Spiegeltent. Outside there was cafe seating, there might be a live act performing or other entertainment. As an audience member, the process of being called up to take your place was a part of the performance. The whole atmosphere was about fun and enjoyment.

This year, being fed into the bowels of Dynamic Earth, was more like being in an airline queue. No sense of occasion, slightly overbearing security procedures, and a corporate faceless efficiency. The hall has poor views of the stage for much of the audience, and feeling of being in a warehouse. I did have a ticket for another show next week, but this experience has put me off bothering.

Which is not to take away from the event itself. Radio Scotland's premier folk music show had laid on four quality live acts for the two hours. Regular host Anna Massie is funny, knowledgeable and engaging, did all the introductions and an interview with each artist.

First up was Gaelic singer Deirdre Graham, accompanied by Megan Henderson on fiddle and keyboard player Angus Lyon. A pleasant set, with sadness and jauntiness mixed in, and interesting explanations of the origins of the songs from Graham.

She was followed by one half of the band Tide Lines to play some stripped back versions of their songs. Robert Robertson on vocals and guitar, and Alasdair Turner on guitar, belted a few numbers of their highly competent, if a little simplistic, Folkpop. They clearly a good number of their followers in the audience, Anna quickly spotting the wee forest of band tee shirts, and got a strong reception.

The one non-Scottish act of the night came from the USA (via Belgium), in the shape of Laura Cortese and the Dance Cards, a very unusual string trio. Fiddle, cello and upright bass might sound like a very conventional line-up, but their playing style and arrangements are very different to most. Cortese plucks her fiddle as much as bows it, the bass lines are full of surprises, and musical influences draw from country, bluegrass, Sweden and Scotland. Laura has a strong voice, and writes very personal lyrics. A nicely varied set.

Headlining the show was Glasgow based powerhouse, the Kinnaris Quintet, complete with their trademark sparkly outfits. I'm a longstanding fan of their imaginative take on folk music, and they didn't let me down. Slow and moody, or fast and thumping, their arrangements are very much their own, with fiddles, guitar and mandolin weaving intricate patterns around the central melodies. What struck me most was the sheer drama of so much of their music. When is somebody going to commission KQ to write a film score?  A brilliant ending to an enjoyable evening of music.

And at least we didn't have to wait for our luggage to get out again.  

Jo Caulfield - Razor-Sharp, Stand 3, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Poor Stuart! Caulfield's husband may or may not be a largely fictional creation, but he is the butt of a good deal of her storytelling. Whatever he may or may not feel about that, audiences love it. Caulfield delivers her trademark acerbic bitchiness, casting her eyes around on the ridiculous things people do. As well as her hapless hubby she takes aim at her women friends, men more generally, and those sad creatures who write to the Metro freebie in the hope that someone they saw on the bus will respond to them.

There's also a more personal element to the show. Her sister died of cancer in 2016 and Jo has written a book about her sibling relationship, and dealing with the grief since it came to an untimely end. She gave a short reading from her work, which quickly displayed that her writing retains the sarcasm and sharpness she's known for in her stage act. And for once this isn't somebody pushing their work for their own benefit, as proceeds from sales are going to Macmillan Cancer Support. Which sounds like two good reasons to buy it.

There's also a bit of audience interaction and Caulfield is not one to try and be smart with! The title of the show reflects her own ability to come up with one liners swiftly, and put downs if required.

Sharp, emotional, very funny and highly recommended.

Jo Caulfield, Razor-Sharp, is on at 20.15 in Stand 3 until the 27th.

Big Bite-Size Breakfast Menu Two, Pleasance Beyond, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

In my review of this years Menu One, I commented that Bite-Size had "never let me down so far". So was it then inevitable that the next show, Menu Two, would be disappointing? While the quality of the acting remained as high as usual, that of the scripts did not, with all of the first three of this quintet failing to deliver the usual punch. Fortunately the final pair brought a return to the usual high standard.

HONK!

A cynical Detective Sergeant, an overly-enthusiastic new DC, and a suspect brought form the park wearing only a blanket. A flasher or streaker maybe? The DC's unusual approach to questioning reveals something a bit different, and explains why a mallard got hurt in the process. It's an interesting idea, but felt like a stretch of silliness too far.

OF THEIR OWN

An Austen-period ball, and two thirty-something sisters who have fallen far behind in the marriage market. If they don't meet their matches tonight maybe some more drastic course of action is required. Otherwise they could end up in Birmingham. This all felt a bit contrived, with a clumsily predictable ending.

THE NEW NORMAL

There's a new Big Boss heading up the company, and sweeping changes ensue. But is what is happening really normal? Just how different will the building, and the people in it, be as security tightens and new rules make life a lot less tolerable? Another script that takes a thin idea a bit too far, although it could be seen as a parody of the evils of billionaire crazies like Bezos and Musk.

THE IMPROV CLASS

This was more like it. A trainee improv artist struggles to cope with the curve balls her acting partner throws at her. But is her goal to improve her performance for an audience, or could there be something much more important behind her desire to learn? An interesting reminder that artistic skills can sometime be transferrable into more basic human situations.

CHARITY

Like The New Normal, the final offering brought all five members of the cast onto stage. We've all learned to be wary of chuggers on our streets, but are there some who really are best to avoid? Charity collections gone extreme as matters escalate for one woman caught in their trap.

Of course you still get the coffee, croissant and strawberries, so some things never change, and there were more than enough enjoyable moments for the audience not to feel short changed. But if you can only get along to one Bite-Size performance, this might not be the best one to choose. 

The Big Bite-Size Breakfast shows, with 3 alternating menus, are on at 10.20 in Pleasance Beyond until the 28th.

Aidan Goatley - 10 Films With My Dad, Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh Festival Fringe (PBH Free Fringe)

 It's back! Goatley's most successful, and award winning, show has returned to the Fringe. All the qualities that made it a hit in the past are still there, but a few new jokes and anecdotes shoehorned in.

In the show he tells of how difficult his relationship with his father has often been, as they are very different personalities, and that when they did bond it was usually through going to see a movie. Goatley takes us through ten films that have marked seminal moments in the process. Moments of misunderstanding and embarrassment are related with a strong eye for visual descriptions and plenty of self deprecating humour. There's audience interaction too, but nothing that would be likely to cause discomfort. This a gentle kind of comedy, often looking at the kind of nuances of family life to which everyone can relate. And you may feel a tear creeping upon you in the emotional ending.

As I said above, this show has been on the go for more than a decade now, and remains as good as ever. If you haven't seen it yet - Why not??

Aidan Goatley, Ten Films With My Dad, is on at 19.40 in the Voodoo Rooms until the 27th. This is a Free Fringe show.

André and Dorine, Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 The eponymous couple have been together for many years, and their tolerance of each other's behaviour has eroded over time. He gets irritated when she plays her cello while he tries to write hates the sound of his typewriter as she tries to play. When their son comes to visit he gets caught up in the middle of the storm, literally pulled both ways.

But when Dorine is diagnosed with dementia their world changes. In a series of flashbacks we see André recall how their younger selves first met, got married, were deeply in love, his ongoing irritations now tempered by his memories.

That outline only hints at the deeply emotional story that unfolds on stage. Wordless and faceless, 3 actors (Jose Dault, Garbine Insausti and Edu Carcamo) portray 11 characters using exaggerated masks and wigs, minor costume changes, and the power of body language. There is never any doubt about who's who, or what their reactions to events are. This physical theatre provides many moments of brilliant comedy, through to genuine pathos. There is a dance sequence towards the end that moved me to tears of emotion and will stay with me for some time to come. André and Dorine is a celebration of real-world love.

Madrid's KULUNKA Teatro have produced a truly beautiful theatrical performance that shouldn't be missed, and seems destined to become my outstanding memory of the 2023 Fringe.

André and Dorine is on in the Assembly Rooms until 20th August.

Ants, Space on the Mile, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 Three junior employees, thrust into a room for the night with one vague brief - to come up with a presentation to show the big bosses how the company can maximise it's profits over the next year. All from different backgrounds, different departments, with only one thing in common - their jobs are so low-level that none of them has much of an idea about what the vast organisation actually does.

Junk Theatre's absurdist take on corporate evil, and damage it does to the lives of the people it swallows, hits a lot of familiar targets, often with great clarity and accuracy. There's some overacting early on, as two of them try to delineate their stereotypes (posh girl handed it all to her, working class boy made good), but it settles down into some tense and sometimes moving situations. Plenty of laughs too. The script gets a bit clunky in the last five minutes, as they try to resolve their impossible situation, but that's a minor quibble.

While Ants wouldn't be high on my recommendations list, you certainly wouldn't have wasted your time going to see it.

Ants was on in the Space on the Mile, but their run has now ended.

Bridget Christie - Who Am I?, New Town Theatre, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Christie is a 51 year old menopausal woman, a status that she feels brings both invisibility and freedom.  Because women over 50 are never portrayed as active, sentient beings in films and TV programmes, and she is no longer under the tyrrany of breeding expectations.  

This might sound like the starting point for a feminist polemic, and at times strays in that direction, but hacving some thinking and talking points strewn through the comedy is not bad thing.  Funny, but with some depth.

And she is very funny at times.  Nor do you need to be menopausal to appreciate it.  Indeed anyone of a certain age will no doubt recongise her opeing three minutes in themselves, and vage nameless and nounless conversations are a daily occurence in our household.  The observational aspects hold up well.  There's physical comedy too, in an unlikely sequence about flashing in the park, and some good one liners.

Yes, it can be a little lecturing at times, but the sharp takes on ageing and how male oriented out society is make up for it.  Worthwhile.

Bridget Christie, Who Am I?, was on in the New Town Theatre, but her run is now over.

Big Bite-Size Breakfast Menu One, Pleasance Beyond, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

This is one I look forward to every year, and it's never let me down so far. The format is as it's always been, with 3 'menus' each providing 5 or 6 mini-playlets. Minimalist sets, rapid costume changes, and a lot of laughs. Today's peformance was Menu One.

PROMOTION

Two women, colleagues, rivals, one a company veteran, one a newcomer, both up for the same promotion. A surprising challenge arrange to decide who comes out on top. Can rivals work together and what is really going here? A quick fire opener with some good one liners.

DATING WITH DOSTOYEVSKY

A woman and man in a bar. She sits at one table reading Crime and Punishment, he at another looking a bit lost. Could Dostoyevsky bring them together, or with that really odd guy get in the way? There's a hint of Truly, Madly, Deeply in this little romcom, and a challenge for the actors to keep it all making sense. Clever and funny.

BASIC

Two sisters getting for a night out. And is younger sis looking for the impossible? Buy why are they drinking out of baked bean tins? A sharp comment on the stresses of trying to live up to social media and the latest 'thing'.

INEVITABLE

My personal favourite of the quintet pitches a self confessed nerd into the perils of dating. If he works out all the possible outcomes then surely he can make the right choices? Or do they all end in misery? The dangers of overthinking writ large in the search for love.

JUST STOP

We see a lot about environmentalists protesting, but what happens when they stage one of their stunts in the wrong place? And why is that cat prancing about? Hypocrisy on show as two cultures collide.

All 5 are enjoyable, all funny, and most provide something to think about. Plus you get coffee, croissant and strawberries. Not to be missed.

The Big Bite-Size Breakfast shows, with 3 alternating menus, are on at 10.20 in Pleasance Beyond until the 28th.

Frankie Boyle : Lap of Shame, Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh Festival Fringe

 Boyle has mellowed over the years.  But, thank goodness, not too much.  Any set that touches on cancer, paedophilia, necrophilia and a nazi is going to have some shock factor.  But Frankie's smart enough not to use these moments to offend, but to make his points more sharply.  There are a lot of  people in the world doing bad things to other people, and the rimsinder doesn't go amiss.

This is no polemic though.  Boyle is hilarious.  Time after time the punchlines hit home with the rapidity of Tim Vine or Gary Delaney, but far more depth.  This is a man who, from his own oblique viewpoint, cares about our society.  And just how fucked up it's become.  Few targets get spared.  While tories and other right wingers  (deservedly) form the bulk of his targets, Starmer, Sturgeon and Biden all feature too.  

What impresses most is the visual imagery.  In a few words Frankie paints his subject as a grotesque caricature, and constantly hits the bulls eye.  Who could be the person who looks like they masturbate to pictures of new builds?  It has to be Truss...  It's these surreal, imaginative syntheses that hit home hardest, riducule by word fusion, and remid you how original a mind is lurking behind the couldn'tgiveatoss stage persona.

Wonderful stuff.

Frankie Boyle, Lap of Shame, is on in the Assembly Rooms until the 18th (but is already sold out!).

Blues Afternoon (Conor Selby Band, Troublemakers with Maggie Bell), Spiegeltent, Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival

 CONOR SELBY BAND

Selby is a young singer/songwriter from England, with his (mostly) youngish band in support. Drums, bass, rhythm guitar and keys back up the leader who sings and plays lead guitar. Despite their age, and playing mostly Selby's own material, it soon becomes apparent that what we're listening to is a classic 60s R&B band. And a good one at that.

Much of the 60s feel comes from the organ of Stevie Watts, who shares the solos with Selby's strings, and is a strong presence within the lineup. The 60s vibe is enhanced by the rhythm guitarist, with his floral short and Lennon shades.

There was a '64 Ray Charles song, and a Selby composition relating to his own lifelong love for the blues and what it meant to him. But much of the time the band went straight from one song to another, with no introduction. Which was a shame, as Selby speaks well when the mood takes him. His singing voice is competent, albeit unremarkable, but oh why do UK singers so often adopt US intonations? Be yourselves guys.

A good opening set that got the audience in the mood for what was to follow.

TIM ELLIOTT AND THE TROUBLEMAKERS

It was Scotland all the way from now on. From deepest Livingston came Tim Elliott, veteran front man of Blues 'n Trouble, now well into his seventies. But still a blues man to his core. Accompanied by one one the country's finest guitarists, Sandy Tweedale, and Chris Agnew of the Rezillos on upright bass. With such a strong and experienced line up the quality was no surprise.

They mixed classic 20s and 30s blues with R&B from the 60s (a Yardbirds number stood out), plus some of the Elliott's own songs from his band, into a melange that gave variety and a strong urge to move the body. Tim's voice remains passionate and colourful, while his harmonica playing has real feeling for the genre. Agnew is as solid as they come, while much of Tweedale's playing is mesmerising. Fifty minutes flew by.

MAGGIE BELL

A short break and Tweedale and Agnew returned, this time with another septuagenarian of even greater legend. Maggie Bell has been belting out the blues since the sixties and has a huge variety of material on call. And any set that begins with Free's Wishing Well promises much. Bell delivers. And how.

Rough as a badger's arse, and all the better for it, her vocals remain powerfully distinctive, with constant improvisation and such a strong musical sensibility. An instrument of power and subtlety, best described, as she said herself, as pure gallus.

The voice is backed up by a great stage presence, enhanced by an audience that wasn't shy in showing exactly where their loyalties lay. Bell is a fan favourite, and not just for her voice. An entertainer supreme, she can be hilariously funny, has a deep river of anecdotes, and knows how to get a crowd involved. Even if it meant signing along to a Kylie song!

Long my the Legend of Maryhill keep on rocking.

Sister Cookie, Spiegeltent, George Square, Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival

 Cookie emerged, in the dark, and sat at the grand piano. With her back to the audience. Sang three songs, without ever showing her face. On came the band, a four piece outfit of drums, bass, guitar and sax. And still she sat at the piano for the next number. Only then when more than twenty minutes had passed, did she come to the mic centre stage and show herself. Maybe it's just me, but I found this an odd way to start a show and get an audience on your side. So it took me a while to get into the swing of the music.

And swing it does. Cookie's voice is deep, resonant and expressive, although the quality drops holding longer notes. The songs are mostly self penned, sometimes touch on depression, often dealing with how difficult she is to have a relationship with. She laughs loudly and frequently and has a great time up there, a big presence in all senses. Her band a solid appendance, with good solos from sax and guitar, and an excellent bass player.

It was slow getting going, but ended up being an enjoyable show and a fun time.

Rachel Lightbody, St Brides, Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival

 Backed by a four piece band (drums, upright bass, piano and sax), Lightbody sang a wide range of her favourite songs, from Jerome Kern to The Beatles. Her music is very much of the free jazz persuasion, and there are plenty of solo opportunities for all the band members. Rachel is an engaging personality, and her enthusiasm and warmth bubbles over into her introductions. She was clearly enjoying every minute of the evening.

I'm probably not the right person to be reviewing this gig. While I loved, and was greatly impressed by, the quality of her voice, the freeform nature of the music did little for me. I have to admit that a bit of melody and rhythm are a necessity to me. In her intro to here Comes the Sun, probably the best known of the songs in her set, she encouraged the audience to sing along. Nobody did, because how can you join in when only fragments of the original tune are left to recognise?

In the end I think I enjoyed the introductions, and the pleasure on Lightbody's face, more than I did the actual music!

The James Oliver Band, St Brides, Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival

 

Let the clichés commence.

Appearances can be deceptive

or

You can't judge a book by it's cover.

The band is announced and on walk a couple of obvious rockers, to take their places with drums and pace. Followed by a shambling giant who looks like he's dressed at the last minute. Grabbing the first things of the rail in a charity shop. In the dark. The bottle top glasses and sing-song Welsh accent further dispel any resemblance to every guitar hero stereotype you've ever come across. But let none of that fool you. Oliver is the real thing.

Oliver is high energy, hilarious, and a virtuoso of blues rock guitar.  Plus being a competent enough singer.  His material skips across genres, covering rockabilly, blues, country and pure rock.  Tunes from his wide range of guitar and musical heroes, and slef pennd songs too.  A few instrumentals.  There was a beautiful rendition of Peter Green's soulful Albatross that carried the listener back in time.

But Oliver has his own style, and injects imagination into everything he plays.  There's nothing predictable about the solos, which take the rules of each genre and bend them to his own wishes.  But, alongside the musical output, an Oliver gig is a lot of fun.  Unless you simply found it all a bit loud then it's hard to imagine anyone not getting some genuine enjoyment from the show, even if only from watching the man move about the stage.  

He brought a few local guests on towards the end.  Richard O'Donnell and John Bruce, both well respected blues guitarists, delivered fine solos, and tired to 'duel' with the main man.  While O'Donnell just about kept up, Bruce laughed and admitted defeat to the talent of the younger man.  The final guest was vocalist Liz Jones, the only one of the three who could say she did a better job than Oliver!  A rocking finale from the basic trio closed the show, to a standing ovation.

James Oliver has a new fan.

Jed Potts and Hillman Hunters, St Brides, Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival

A rocking blues set from Potts (guitar and vocals), Charlie Wild (bass) and Jonny Christie (drums), playing a very varied mix of established Hunters songs (and tunes), covers (a Johnny Winter number stood out), and new material commissioned by the EJBF. Potts keeps the chat to a minimum, and has his humourous moments, but the focus is very much on the music.

The trio form a tight outfit, Potts has a decent singing voice without being especially memorable, a diverse range of riffs, and the odd spark of imagination in his solos. The melodies are often simple, but the arrangements smart and embrace a range of tempos and influences. Christie's percussive contribution draws the eye. A solid beat enhanced with constant variations, some good solos, and and impressive intro to a couple of numbers.

You'll see better bands at the Festival, but Potts and co lay on a good show and you'd never feel short changed from seeing them.

Blues Afternoon (Michael Roach, Andrew Eustace Band, Marcus Bonfanti Band), Spiegeltent, George Square, Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival

 MICHAEL ROACH

Cool. In his cream suit and beige homburg he came on stage looking like the epitome of the Mississippi blues man. Which he was. And funny, from the off. Played a good variety of blues songs, mostly from 20s, 30s and 40s. Simple melodies, which allowed him not to tax his voice. He might not be the greatest singer technically, but he sings well within himself, almost conversationally, and the phrasing is often clever. And, as he says himself, he specialises in a bit of smut, so even the lyrics could be amusing at times. But the guitar playing is another matter. An unusual style that makes him a bit special, with sharp, clipped notes and a very clear sound. A great, and relaxed, warm up act.

ANDREW EUSTACE BAND

A pretty typical RnB band. Drums, bass, and Eustace himself on guitar and vocals, playing a mix of original material and blues standards. Musically solid, and certainly well above pub band standard. But lacking the spark of originality that sorts out the good from the great. Eustace's solos were more than competent, but always felt predictable, very much in keeping with the genre without adding anything to it. The exception was the bass player, on 5 string bass, who constantly drew the eye (and not just because he was slightly reminiscent of comedian Greg Davies!). Adding a layer of complexity to the underlying soundscape, and provided a wonderful bass solo, to suggest that he was the best thing about this trio. All good enough, but not exciting.

However...

MARCUS BONFANTI BAND

Another trio of drums bass (this time of the upright variety) and guitarist/vocalist, but these Blues Afternoons always try to save the best for last, and this was very much the case here. Defining charisma is never easy, but it was immediately clear that Bonfanti has it. Full of character, humour, with the talent in both vocals and string playing to back it up. There was plenty of variety in the material, including originals, blues classics, jazz and even a bit of ragtime. Lots of variety in tempo and style.

Bonfanti has a strong singing voice, deep and powerful, although his phrasing and intonation is American, despite the clear London origins of his speaking tones. The guitar playing brought everything that Eustace lacked, with frequent forays into the unexpected and a constant demonstration of a vibrant musical imagination. And the same could be said for the very characterful bassman. I don't think I've ever sat through a seventy minute gig with so many bass solos (and quite a few contributions from the man at the back too), reflecting Bonfanti's lack of selfishness, and just how accomplished the man on the big wooden box was. There was clearly a great relationship and empathy within the trio, and that flowed into their performance, both accomplished and joyful.

But there was no doubting who the star of the entire show was, and I hope I get to see more of Marcus in the future.

Kris Drever and his band, Union Chapel, London

 If you can discount the deep set pain in your bum caused by those slab hard wooden pews, the Union Chapel really is a magnificent venue for music. Especially at this time of year when the high stained glass windows flood the place with the light of a summer sunset. A cloud free sky saw that light slowly diminish, but retain surprising power, well into the evening, so that the lighting within the building, and specifically on the stage, changed with great subtlety as song came upon song. Until, as encore approached, only the artists remained clearly visible, the centre of audience attention throughout, but now with added emphasis form the elements of the world.

Such a sublime setting deserves a performance of equal power and sophistication, and Kris Drever is the man for the job.  While his voice might not be in the top flight technically, it's warm, smooth, comforting, emotional and immediately identifiable.  A firm favourite in this household.  Add in a dry, funny stage presence (including the frequent self deprecation of his constant need to retune his guitars!) and Drever has become a live act to savour.

The material was all familiar to long time Drever fans, mostly drawn from his five excellent solo albums, and including some of his work with the incredible Lau, and superband Drever McCusker  Woomble.  But there was pelnty of novelty in the arrangements, with the backing vocals of Rachel Lightbody (including a wonderful solo on Scapa Flow 1919), and the percussion of John Lowrie, bringing freshness to these old songs.  Kris also showed off his guitar virtuosity with a few pipe tunes.  Add in the solid bass and vocals of long-time collaborator Euan Burton, and it's the perfect wee band to showcase Drever's musical and songwriting abilities.

There was a special surprise at the end when the quartet returned to do their encore accompanied by a weel kent redhead.  Eddi Reader, direct from appearing in a West End musical, added her voice and vibrant persona to the closiong numbers and that felt like full circle for us - we first saw Drever as the support act for Eddi, about seventeen years ago.  Both remain as special as ever.

Anna Karenina, Lyceum

 A fast paced and cleverly constructed retelling of the essentials of Tolstoy's classic. Love, passion and existential angst in a crushingly patriarchal society.  The story concentrates on the central relationships - Ann and Vronsky, Levin and Kitty, Stiva and Dolly, and Karenin the outsider, plus the powerful tug of Anna's love for her son Seryozha.  To the fore are the three women, all trying to work within the fine boundaries that society places them within, and frustrated to be so confined by the double standards im posed on them.  

What is better?  To play it safe, even if unhappiness results, or to take risks that can lead to joy or disaster?  How to interpret  the meanings of others, or to get your own point across without being direct?  Love and passion, hate and loathing all mixed into a swirl of well choreographed activity.

Strong performances, notably from Angus Miller as Stiva, who least serious of the characters who flies by the seat of his pants and struggles on from scrape to scrape.  And a set that provides a slow build up in a sense of doom, as Anna's life collapses around her.

It's a clever production, perhaps too clever at times, but the interest never flags and there's no confusion, evben when conversations interlink.  Initially the more modern language, especially the swearing, jars a littrle with the historical context, but soon blends into the action, a reflection of the timelessness of Tolstoy's creations.  Their concerns are still very much our concerns, and that is the most fascinating aspect of an entertaining two hours.

Dear Billy - A Love Letter to the Big Yin, Traverse

 Everyone usually remembers the first time they saw or heard Billy Connolly. He wasn't easily ignored. For most of us that meant seeing him on screen or stage, or listening to a recording. But plenty of people have first hand memories of meeting Billy, living alongside him, working with him.

Gary McNair is the front man for this show, accompanied by two musicians, and backed up by the usual creative team that's always involved in these productions. But behind that is a small army or story gatherers and researchers who found, listened to, and recorded the words of, many people across Scotland who'd encountered Billy in some way or other.

McNair has taken the best of these interviews/stories/reactions, and woven them into a compelling one man performance. Albeit one man portraying many characters. He's energetic, convincing in his multiple alter egos, and hilarious. And, occasionally, very moving, as in his relating the words of a woman whose husband also had Parkinsons, and was touched by Billy's empathy.

And there's McNair's own brief encounter with the great man - both real and imagined! Plus all the characters who new him before he became The Big Yin loved by millions, who could see he had something special about him, even if they didn't always want to admit it.

Ninety minutes flies by, and even McNair's going off script at one point didn't spoil the performance, indeed enhanced it, for he's got a great ability to keep audiences on side and take the piss out oh himself. Much like his hero.

Return to Seoul

Freddie likes to sight read, to take a quick look at a piece of musical notation, then dive straight in and play it. Which sets the theme for her character, apt to jump in suddenly, take the risk and see what happens.

Aged 25, she returns to Korea from where, as a baby, she was adopted by her French parents. Despite saying it's something she wouldn't do, she goes to the adoption agency and asks if she can be put in touch with her biological parents. Her father responds and, accompanied by the hotel receptionist she's made friends with, she sets off to meet him and his family. It's a tense affair, requiring her friend and her aunt to translate to the father, with cultural differences piled on top of what was always going to be an emotional and hard-to-handle life event. When she returns to Europe it's with mixed emotions about her experience.

She'll be back 2 years later, and a further 5 after that. Each time she finds out, and grasps, more about her own background, and the culture of the country she originates from. There are powerful emotional moments as she navigates a present built on a past she doesn't fully understand. But, even though she picks up some of the language, she remains very much French. When she is finally able to connect with her mother it's a powerful bridging moment.

A powerful, pensive story about how we see ourselves as individuals, and as part of a wider society and culture. The emotional encounters, miscommunications and misunderstandings, and culture clashes, all feel grounded in real experiences. Ji-Min park is excellent as an impulsive yet withdrawn Freddie, trying to navigate environments and feelings that are alien to her, and the risks of upsetting everyone around her.

Highly recommended.

World Trade Fair Day Celebration, Usher Hall

 A bit of an odd event, that was frequently interesting, often entertaining, but never quite gelled.

It opened with a school pipe band marching on, followed by the evening's host, Gail Porter (no, I had to look up who she was too...). Some information about Fair Trade, a bit of an attempt at warming up the audience (not entirely successfully), and a couple of videos on a big screen over the stage, explaining something about the Fair Trade organisation and what they do.

Eventually we got to one of the two main music acts for the night, with, weirdly, the better musicians on first. Which maybe gave the biggest clue to the nature of the event. Shooglenifty were excellent, the 7 piece outfit delivering a rowdy and danceable set with sound musical ideas and lots of life about them.

The interval had more of Ms Porter, more worthy video material, and a youth drum band plus a youthful dance troupe. And then came the main act, The Red Hot Chilli Pipers.

I've seen the Pipers a couple of times before, but in a very different environment, where their fun act seemed more appropriate. But somehow it just didn't seem to work in a grand venue like the Usher. Competent musicians, albeit far from the best pipers (ironically), a deficit perhaps highlight by having seen and heard the wonderful Ross Ainslie a few nights before in the Traverse next door. More show than go, they are entertainers more than serious musicians. We left before the end...

Tim Edey & Ross Ainslie, TradFest, Traverse

 Sometimes it's hard to tell if Tim Edey is a brilliant and offbeat comedic storyteller, who just happens to be a virtuoso musician. Or vice versa. Whichever it might be, he's always a hugely entertaining performer. Ross Ainslie matches him for musical skill, and can be pretty amusing in his own right. Although he, like the audience, often looks bewildered and/or exhilarated by Edey's flights of fancy.

But this remains a music gig, and there is great variety and rapturous moments aplenty. Tunes from Scotland, Ireland, Galicia, North America and beyond. Playing styles, especially Edey, influenced by jazz and rock. Tim on guitar and melodeon, Ross on whistles, cittern and highland bagpipes. Joined by young whistle star Kenneth Macfarlane for the final number of the first half and the final encore.

While there's some beautiful slower material, it's the rousing faster tunes, fingers flying, that really get the audience going. Edey's accompaniment is always unexpected, constantly changing and inventive. Ainslie brings sparkling flourishes to the melodies and a sound musical sensibility to all he plays.

A hugely entertaining gig, for all the right reasons.

Kim Carnie, TradFest, Traverse

 

A very happy looking Carnie accompanied by John Lowrie on Piano, Innes White on guitar, and the fiddle of Lauren McColl, with White, and occasionally MacColl, providing backing vocals. Mostly songs in Gaelic, a few of them from recent times, and some self penned numbers in English. Carnie has a beguilingly soft voice, and a constant smile on her face. The arrangements are sparse, and sensitive, highlighting the vocal talent. She's a good storyteller too, with several funny, and usually bloody, introductions to the Gaelic numbers. One of which lasted a good bit longer than the song itself!

An enthusiastic audience were encourage to join in the chorus of the encore, although with it being in Gaelic, and this being Edinburgh, it was more mumblealong than singalong. While there had been a few faster numbers, the bulk of the set was slow to medium tempo, which made for a very relaxing, and enjoyable, gig.

The Foghorn Stringband, Traverse, TradFest

 Long time specialists in country, bluegrass and cajun music, the Foghorners have changed line ups several times over the years, and are now a four piece consisting of original members Caleb Kauder (mandolin, fiddle) and Sammy Lind (fiddle, banjo), plus relative newcomers Reeb Willms (guitar) and Nadine Landry (double bass). All four contribute lead and harmony vocals, in an ever shifting mix of voices.

Although the bass is miked up, and there are a couple of low level mikes to pick up guitar, banjo and mandolin, the bulk of the sound is fed through one central mike, meaning the line up of faces changes constantly, and some complex choreography is required. It's all part of a performance that constantly emphasises their links to old time music. (Although it does mean that, by modern standards, the mix coming through is very variable!)

The songs and tunes are mostly from various traditions within the US, plus a couple of more recently penned numbers. Musicianship is first class, the vocals acceptable. None of the singers stand out as a great solo voice, and often sound better in harmony. One of the highlights was an a cappella rendering from the two women. While there a few slow pieces, much of the set is fast, often furiously so, with foot tapping rhythms and repetitive lyrics, the latter lending themselves to a bit of audience participation at times. The foursome all take turns at introductions between numbers, with frequent interjections for the others. They can be amusing, but there's not all that much information about the origins of the material, and, given the historic nature of the music, this could have been expanded.

It was an entertaining, sometimes exciting and rousing evening. Yet also curiously flat. As if something was missing...

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

 I had seen the trailer for this film so many times beforehand that I wasn't expecting any surprises.  And that proved to be the case.  It is emotionally manipulative, frequently predictable, requires considerable suspension of disbelief, and the ending is curiously unresolved.  All of which sounds like the preface to a very negative review, but I have to admit loved it, with the tears in my eyes a positive response.  

The movie is largely redeemed by two elements.  Firstly, at a time when the current tory government is busy turning the UK into a right wing dystopian shithole, it offers hope, or at least an upbeat view of the human condition.  Secondly, and much more predictably, it stars Jim Broadbent.

The premise is a simple one.  Harold (Broadbent) and Maureen (Penelope Wilton) are long retired, long suffering, existing in a marriage that has lost the ability to communicate (we know all this very quickly, despite little being said).  He receives a letter from an old colleague, Queenie Hennessy, telling him she is dying in a hospice in Berwick-upon-Tweed, hundreds of miles from his home in south Devon.   I going to post a reply he finds a chance remark from a shop assistant changing in his mind.  The letter wouldn't be enough to make up for what he'd done to Queenie, it needs more than that.  And Harold, who feels he's failed everyone and has never achieved anything in his life, decides to change that.  So he starts walking.  To the hospice.  With no preparation, no experience of walking any distance, and no notice to the bewildered Maureen, Mr Fry begins his pilgrimage, determined to walk all the way to save Queenie.

Along the way he meets many people, some help him, others he gives help to, at times it works both ways.  A pub photo and social media turn him into a celebrity, and others join the pilgrimage.  All that matters to everyone is Harold's (non religious) faith, his belief that if he keeps walking then Queenie will stay alive.  Along the way a series of flashbacks explains something of the reasons for his sense of failure, both in relation to Queenie and to the son he feels he let down so badly.  

A few of these encounters and characters are ill-judged, others add to learning more about the man Harold is.  As I said before, the ending really doesn't give us much.  And yet that doesn't matter.  Harold Fry is telling us is that trying, with a bit of faith in yourself, is often enough, whatever the outcome.  

Wilton is excellent with what she's given, which isn't nearly enough, and there could have been more to Queenie's story.  But none of this seems important beside Broadbent's performance.  Always reliable, this is one of his best.  Go and see Harold Fry.  Don't expect too much from the script, enjoy some stunning views, and marvel at the greatness of Jim.  Oh, and be prepared to cry a bit...

Allelujah

 A script adapted from an Alan Bennett play and a stellar cast of weel kent faces promises more than this film is able to deliver, but there's still plenty to entertain and an important message to deliver.  Even if the latter comes through with mixed messages and a heavy handed Coda.

The Bethelem Hospital, aka The Beth, is a much loved local hospital in Yorkshire, now used solely for geriatric patients too unwell for care homes.  It's under threat of closure by the tory government, so volunteers are busy fund raising, and a film crew are visiting to talk to staff and patients for a documentary.  The health minister has sent up one of his management consultants to finalise the report that will authorise closure, but he's also visiting his dad who's been taken in there.

For all the threat hanging over it, the place doesn't feel in crisis, the staff not overstretched, so it's not quite the real world.  Making up for that is a script with some classic Bennett lines, and a great central performance from Jennifer Saunders as the dedicated Ward sister who's given her life to The Beth.  It's a generally heart warming affair, full of stereotypes, but with a lot of fun to be had.  As the end nears it feels like we're heading for feelgood territory with the evil consultant (Russell Tovey) heading for an epiphany that will bring change for the better.

But it doesn't all work out that way, and the plot twist reveals both the best and the worst of the NHS.  That worst doesn't stop this being a reminder of just how important the NHS is in our society, and how it's interweaving links affect so much of our lives.  If the final polemic feels clumsy and out of place that may be no bad thing.  The health service is in crisis, largely because that's exactly what this cruel government wants it to be.  It gives them their excuse to make it all about money, something Tovey's character makes all too clear.  

As a movie Allelujah falls short in many ways.  As a timely reminder of where we are, it hits the mark with a sledgehammer blow.

The Spark (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 There's a clue in the set.  The audience walks in to chaos - tables and chairs hung from above, a chair lying sideways on the floor, the contents of a bag fanned out where they fell, a pair of black stilettos.  Someone's life is a mess. 

The someone is Robin (Nicole Cooper), recently appointed Transport Ministry in the Scottish Government, and she's experiencing some curious symptoms.  Maggie (Beth Marshall), her overworked GP, says such things are normal when women become perimenopausal, James (Johnny Panchaud) thinks she's not quite rational, isn't listening to him and taking his valuable advice/instruction.  Robin is in politics to bring about change, but this wasn't a change she was anticipating. 

To be herself, both as a politician and a woman, Robin is having to fight.  Advisers, the medical profession and her own party colleagues all want to tell her what to do.  But Robin knows what she wants to do, to say, and how to say it.  And suddenly these unexpected 'symptoms' offer the chance to be someone she wasn't before.  Will the powers that be allow it though? 

The Spark is a fast paced comedy of miscommunication, misogyny and missed opportunities.  Can politicians ever really make a difference?  Especially when women aren't listened to?  Three excellent interweaving performances, with Cooper at the centre of the confusion, leave the audience grasping at the straws of contemporary politics.  It sometimes goes a bit heavy handed on the metaphor side of things, but never ceases to be entertaining.  An enjoyable end to the PPP season.

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

 A man, a woman.  Clad in shades of grey.  Sat in the circle thy will never leave, she writing in a notebook, he reading a paperback.  He speaks, she responds.  But not as expected, and the conversation escalates, as a seemingly innocent enquiry from him spirals into doubt and uncertainty. 

This a play about uncertainty, about the problems we have in never really being able to understand our fellow humans.  Is the woman a doctor?  Policewoman?  Have the met before or not?  Is he criminal or patient or passive bystander embroiled in a situation he doesn't understand? 

What is apparent is how thin are the borders surrounding amnesia, dementia, being a subject of psychological torture, and the simple confusion of déjà vu. This à drama to provoke thought, without dictating answers. 

Compelling performances, other verbal and physical from Megan Tyler and Simon Donaldson, and a script, by Peter Arnott, that twisted and turned and circled back through questions and doubts , made for a fast paced fifty minutes, and left me wanting more. There's a lot to be gained from having questions posed to which you have to figure out your own answers. A fascinating addition to the Play, Pie, Pint canon. 

But I also recognise this is a very marmite experience.  Very obviously loved it.  Others might well feel alienated by the lack of any clear plot or resolution. But if you can retain an open mind, and enjoy having your horizons challenged, Variant is a must-see. 

Write-off (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 Freddie (Richard Conlon) is the fifty-something author of several gritty psychological thrillers.  They sell well, he has a following, but his last novel attracted a lot of criticism for it's insensitive treatment of violence against women.  Criticism from young people. 

Enter Ben (Bailey Newsome), a 24 year old postgrad student of literature.  He's been recommended to Freddie by an old friend, who's also Ben's tutor.  And he's just what Freddie's publisher thinks Freddie needs - someone to be his 'sensitivity reader', and defuse those critics before there's anything to get offended by. Ben also thinks he's exactly what Freddie needs, because doesn't every dinosaur need to be brought into the new age? 

The ensuing culture clash, across the generations, brings forth secrets, ulterior motives, misunderstandings and some search for common ground.  There's no right or wrong here, and if Freddie seems like the bad guy to begin with then Ben quickly matches him.  But they have a different appreciation of the world.  The old have memories the young can't fully understand.  And while the old have been young, it wasn't in this new reality of social media and openness.  Both characters are gay, which becomes an essential element of the plot, but it's not their defining characteristic, however much Ben thinks it should be.  As Freddie says, "being gay doesn't make you interesting".  

This is writer Aodhan Gallagher's first staged production, but you wouldn't know it.  The script is top class, with laughs aplenty and surprising depth, taking on an issue that regularly attracts much partisan comment.  When the comedy gives way to tragedy there's genuine pathos, and a moment where the two characters come together and you, as an audience member, can't avoid feeling moved.  

Conlon is superb as the grumpy author, full of sharp sarcasm and disdain for the new mores, his facial expressions a constant joy to watch.  Newsome is great too, intense and well meaning, until he reveals his true motives.  There is genuine chemistry here.

It's rare that an offering from the Play, Pie, Pint series is a duffer.  This is a rarity at the opposite end of the scale, a shining gem of a piece, that is everything you could ask for from a 50 minute comedy drama.  And a little bit more.

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

 Lisa's an Aberdonian quine whose life centres on her annual holidays in the sun with her oldest friend Shelley.  Until said friend announces that this year she's heading off to Ibiza with her boyfriend, the creepy Gareth. And what, who, is Lisa without her holiday and her bestie? 

In song and storytelling Lisa (Bethany Tennick) takes us through her life from who she thought she was, to the person that emerges from the other end. She resonds to an advert for a retreat, a chance to get away and have a bit of pampering.  But the reality isn't all saunas and massage, but a strange forest hideaway presided over by the enigmatic Babs and, for all that it doesn't look anything like she expected, Lisa will never be the same again. 

Based loosely on the East European myths of the ambiguous Baba Yaga (a name perhaps best known in this part of the world, from Mussorgsy and ELP), Morna Young's script is fast paced and very funny, mixing Scots reality with Slavic legend and magic. .  While the resolution may ring a bit of New Age simplicity, there's an underlying message that we don't get to say where we came from, and sometimes that can make it hard to know who we really are. 

Tennick is excellent as the dimly Doric Lisa going from confusion to realisation, and throws in a further half dozen characters along the way.  She's got great comic timing, a decent singing voice rth and guitar skills, and brings forth all the fun from the full fifty five minutes.  

There might be a touch of fay hippydom about it, but Babs is wonderfully entertaining and memorable. 

Heidi Talbot, Brunton Theatre

For this tour the Irish songstress has support from a superbly talented musical trio.  The eccentrically humourous Ian Carr on guitar and backing vocals, quietly effective Toby Shaer on fiddle and whistles, and the sensitive keyboard accompaniment of Jenn Austin.  Heidi now has an extensive solo back catalogue to draw on, and the two sets mixed up older material with songs from her most recent album, traditional, contemporary and self penned.  Smart arrangements, that beautifully sweet and husky voice, audience singalongs, and plenty of laughs in the introductions.  Plus the bonus of Talbot generously removing herself from the stage a couple of times to allow the others to more fully demonstrate their talents with some tunes.  An xceelent way to spend an evening.

Empire of Light

Hilary (Olivia Colman) is the duty manager in the Empire Cinema, on the Margate seafront in 1980.  She's effective enough in her job, but passionless about film.  Lives alone, her only intimacy is providing handjobs for her slimy, bullying boss (Colin Firth).  And, it gradually emerges, she has a history of serious mental health issues.

Into her life comes new member of staff Stephen (Micheal Ward), who hopes to be able to go to college to become an architect.  Despite the considerable age difference, they begin an affair that brings some light and excitement into Hilary's humdrum routine.  But this is Thatcher's Britain, where a callous government is effectively saying racism is OK, and Stephen is black.  When trouble comes it affects much more than just the obvious victim.  But tories gotta tory.

The film is beautifully and evocatively shot, with plenty of period detail and a clear love for film.  And in the bigotry of the times, and showing the lack of understanding of mental health at the time, it goes after some worthy targets.  So it's a shame the script can be a bit clunky at times.  Stephen is almost too good to be true.  Hilary's illness is used to manipulate our emotions.  It's always enjoyable, but with a sense that it could be that bit better.

Fortunately it's saved by the performances, and especially from the always brilliant Colman.  She gives Hilary a depth that transcends what's on the page, and makes her ordinariness a virtue.  And for that alone it's worth seeing.

Burning Bright (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 The stars in an Artic sky.  An out of control bush fire.  Blake's tiger come in from the forest.  All burning bright, and each one the starting point for a separate monologue, each on the theme of climate change and the negative impact humans are having on their planet.  

Mo (Hannah Jarrett-Scott) is in a dinghy, looking at the stars, taking a brief respite from the eco-cruise ship she should have been running with her now dead partner.  But her immediate worries must focus on a trapped whale, a hungry polar bear and a Trump supporting wannabe hunter.  

Ash (Adam Buksh) is a boy from India who once had to fear the tiger at the door and the drought in the river, but now, in Scotland, it's racists and floods that are the problem.  

Alex (Suzanne Magowan) is the on-the-scene TV reporter at a wild fire (maybe in Australia, maybe the US, it's never made clear), caught up in a danger that consumes all in it's path.

Set against a backwall of plastic detritus, the three performers' monologues intertwine, around one another, but never interlink.  The performances are strong (Magowan is particularly impressive), fast paced, the direction excellent, and there's both humour and pathos in the script.  But that lack of connection is an issue, giving us three separate performances with a common theme of climate change, and human stupidity, but no real connection.  It feels more like three strands shoehorned together rather than a coherent whole, providing a sense of expectation that is never fulfilled.  Which is a shame, because it's a worthy and important subject to tackle, but which could be far better presented.  Enjoyable, but ultimately unsatisfying.