The Chocolate Ocelot's 2016 Fringe - Day Eight

FRIDAY 12TH AUGUST 2016


Big Bite-Size Breakfast Show
QueenDome @ Pleasance Dome
Good morning Edinburgh! Three funny, eccentric, thought-provoking menus of Bite-Size Plays with free coffee, croissant, strawberries!
The Ocelot says: Horribly early (for us), but very well worth it. My thanks to friends Gordon and Anna for the anniversary gift of a Fringe voucher which we spent on this. Had no idea what to expect as we plodded into the Pleasance Dome with a lot of old people (it was way too early for the under-30 Fringe crowd), and were handed tea, coffee, croissant and a single strawberry, all of which made shuffling into the auditorium and sitting down extra perilous. What we got was six short scenes, varying from outright comedy sketch (Chugging for Kittens) to grim, twisty drama (two-man prisoner thriller Broken). The mood change between scenes is sometimes a bit jarring, but it's certainly an excellent showcase of the range of the Bite Size Plays cast. I rather liked the kidnappers/pineapple sketch and the Hamlet was gay sketch. They cycle through different 'menus' of sketches every three days, so conceivably you could go three times. High quality, good value for money. 5/5

Escape from the Planet of the Day That Time Forgot
Downstairs @ Assembly Roxy
A professor with a rocket in his cellar, his female ward and his eager assistant – together they find themselves on a distant planet before escaping to... where exactly?! A new British B-movie inspired affair, with sinister plant life, Norse gods, time travel, dinosaurs and a whole pile of pluck!
The Ocelot says: Once again indulging my love of Gavin Robertson shows, this is far closer to Fantastical Voyage and Thunderbirds FAB than the psycho drama of The Six Sided Man (also on this Fringe). With a three-person cast, there was more variety of characters, as the professor (Robertson), his female ward (Katharine Hurst) and Geordie assistant (Simon Nader) fly into space in an ironing board rocket (good prop work) and encounter Triffids and evil Norse gods before escaping back in time. A little light of pace and in need of a better climax (the third act with the dinosaurs feels like a separate episode and ends on a non-cliffhanger), but the vocal and physical work was excellent. Good use of the stacked grey boxes as fortresses, tunnels, talking walls and space helmets. My favourite performances were Simon Nader's Shatnerian Loki and the entire cast's prowling dinosaurs. 4/5

Erin McGathy: Love You Loudly
Ballroom @ Gilded Balloon at the Counting House
Erin McGathy (This Feels Terrible, Drunk History, Community) presents a comedy show about love, guts, despair and wearing wedding dresses covered in candy for approval.
The Ocelot says: I'll admit I put this on the list purely because of Harmontown, the podcast in which Erin McGathy makes a semi-regular appearance as TV creator Dan Harmon's girlfriend and then wife (and now ex-wife). Though billed as comedy, this painfully honest (see the period/sex/bedsheets story), personal show bravely recounts various disastrous relationships in which she sometimes emerges as the archetypal crazy stalker girlfriend and sometimes as a damaged person in need of a hug and a good therapist. It has a happy ending though, so fingers crossed that this, her first Fringe show, will not be her last. 4/5

Driftwood
Palais du Variete @ Assembly George Square Gardens
In this colourful and turbulent concoction of pure joy and intimacy, watch Casus bring a blank canvas to life and reveal our innate need for human contact. This is a circus show that does not let you forget that to feel is to be human and in a moment of danger, a grasping hold is survival.
The Ocelot says: I do like a good bit of physical acrobatic stuff, and the spiegeltent in George Square is the perfect venue to see this 5-person troupe of superb athletes use each other in a variety of breathtaking stunts/dances/exercise (I'm not sure what the right term is). And my word they are strong, lifting each other up three people high, swinging and catching each other, twirling from the trapeze and generally looking like the sort of humans you'd offer up to visiting aliens as a justification for our existence. I also liked that one of the women did as much of the heavy lifting as the larger chaps. You go girl. 5/5

Alexis Dubus Verses The World
Voodoo Rooms
Winner, Chortle Award 2015. More lyrical tales from the road mixed with iffy wordplay and first-rate bullshit. 'Does what great stand-ups do but does it in verse... Uniquely funny' ***** (Scotsman).
The Ocelot says: A bit like his spoken word show Cars and Girls from a few years ago, this is Alexis out of Gallic Marcel Lucont mode and appearing as himself (albeit in a green velvet suit), the guy from Great Missenden spinning rhymes and tales from his travels around the world. Charming and funny. I'm glad we were able to persuade CJ to come along to the Voodoo Rooms with me and give him a go. Looking forward to getting the CD of the show. 4/5

Dave Lemkin: The Village Hall

Ciao Roma

Lower Swell is having its summer festival! Come and be a part of the village as character comedian Dave Lemkin brings to life all the guest speakers: Colin Jackson, a self-employed management trainer (a former manager himself until a staff mutiny made his position untenable), Jaqueline Dulay, who you all know as the village's yoga teacher who leads a meditation on spirituality and overcoming violent thoughts, and finally local celebrity, former Tory bigwig, the Rt Hon. Dickie Daventry.

The Ocelot says: A bit more character comedy for us, this time underneath an Italian restaurant of all places. A late start didn't help, and the comedy caretaker who ushered us in was probably a bit too broad. But I enjoyed the rest of Dave Lemkin's characters to one degree or another, and couldn't help but go aaah when he brought his little cockerpoo puppy in as Dickie Daventry's dog Thatcher. Some of the costume changes were a bit too long, but the end results were pretty good (especially for Daventry). Amusingly/awkwardly, an entire row of old people left during the rude vicar section, citing not feeling well, though I suspect that they left due to the show being not as cosy as they had been led to believe, a perennial problem with comedy shows that perhaps don't make their adult content plain up front. 3/5

Shadows Over Improv
 The Frooty Goose @ Billy Connolly Memorial Theatre
The H P Lovecraft Improvisation Players put on a different sanity-stretching play every day, with suggestions from the audience. "A tentacular spectacular!" (shitsngiggles.com).
The Ocelot says: This evening's show at the gloomy BCMT was attended by a strange mixture of freaks and fools, ourselves included. Tonight's set-up from the audience was a setting (Peckham), an academic (a Business Studies lecturer) and a strange item from outer space (I shouted out 'kettle' but they heard it as 'cattle'). Thus we witnessed the strange tale of cows from the stars infiltrating the Peckham city farm, their peculiar coloured milk turning all who drank it mad. The improvised play ended with a dark ritual conducted at Brockwell lido to summon a bovine elder god from its depths, thus retroactively titling tonight's story The Call of Cowthulhu. 5/5

Axis of Awesome: Won't Ever Not Stop Giving Up
Debating Hall @ Gilded Balloon Teviot
Jordan, Lee and Benny are back with a brand new hour of world-class musical comedy. They've toured all over the earth and their videos have over 200 million hits online. They've even got a plaque from YouTube. A plaque!
The Ocelot says: We went to see this on the strength of their Four Chords song which we saw on YouTube. And what a great way to end our week at this year's Fringe. A packed enthusiastic crowd, great comic music and just a lovely vibe. I will admit unapologetically to being extra interested in seeing how lead man turned lead woman Jordan performed, and also how she was treated by fellows AoA members Lee and Benny and by the audience. She looked great, sounded great and got a lot of love from everyone. Hurrah for Jordan! Transitioning publicly used to be a horribly intrusive, traumatic experience, but thanks to brave people like her (and her friends being super cool), it makes it more normal and easier for other folks. Check out their song The Elephant In The Room for a guide to what is and is not acceptable to ask a trans (sorry, bald) person. I got their latest CD and a very rare (I hate photos of my stupid face) photo of me and the band afterwards. 5/5

Quirky Incident
I did an awesome forced march from the George Square (one of the more southerly venues) to the Voodoo Rooms (in the north) in about 30 minutes, and even had time to get a slice of yummy pizza from the Udderbelly square on the way (actually not on the way but I really wanted that pizza). In the rain too. I am some kind of a walking god/goddess/gender-non-binary deity.

Finally
OK, that's it. EdFringe 2016 over for me, Herself and CJ. My thanks to guest stars Ian, Mitchell, Clive, Paul, Laura and James. I promised not to go on too long and failed, as we all knew I would. Hope you liked the crappy reviews, stupid made-up shows and tolerated my timid criticisms and gushy gushings. Till next year, or maybe not.

The Chocolate Ocelot's 2014 Fringe - Day Four

Shambolic audio diary of the day's events here

CJ Hooper's LJ of the day here

Hump day! No, that's not rude. I mean we're already halfway through our week here. Boo and very much hiss.

Herself wants us to go out for breakfast this morning, so again with the highly compressed summary of the day's events.

By crikey I'm tired. I thank Allfather Odin's wisdom that I decided to forego fashionable footwear for the comfortable sporting trainer whilst here. But even so, me pods are aching something frightful so they are.



Once Upon A Nightmare
Theatre
Box Step Productions
The Counting House (you have no idea how many times I've fatally mistyped one of those words this week)

Excellent stuff from last year's Death Ship 666 people, telling the story of what happens to the young heroes of a children's adventure after they return from misty magic land Somnia. Like TV's Once Upon A Time with dollops of Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore, this is a child friendly adventure with gags for all, lightning costume changes (I'm thinking of Wendy to Amastris particularly) and a terrifying comic relief in the form of Sackface (who sounded distressingly like Old Greg from the Mighty Boosh). A good musical number in the middle and jolly good fun all round.



Bum, that was too long - better slim these down....



10 Films With My Dad
Comedy
Adrian Goatley I think
Somewhere over by Princes Street

Forgive me, Adrian Goatley I think, I wimped out of the trek across town for your show, though I'm sure it was excellent. The mind was willing but the flesh, oh the feeble flesh.



Instead, we had lunch in a frightfully hot Turkish cafe opposite the BBC festival place that we've never been arsed to visit and then CJ and I went to Forbidden Planet. I bought issues 2, 4 and 5 of Marvel's Original Sin event. The mind was weak too.



The Haunting of Lopham House
Comedy
Tom Neenan
A bunker under the Pleasance

Well performed one-man ghost story spoofing The Woman In Black and various MR James efforts. Tom Neenan works his clever wordplay into nearly every line of a tale about a chap investigating strange deaths and spooky phenomena in and around the titular house in 1910 Norfolk (I think). The sound effects genuinely made me jump. Splendid stuff.



Knightmare Live: Level 2
Comedy
The Knightmare Live guys
Pleasance

Hurrah for Knightmare Live! The return of Tregard of Dunshelm, Lord Fear, Binki the goblin and the rest. Granitas (or Olgarth) seems to have got an upgrade this year, and the dragon (spoilers!) was so good it got a massive whoop of applause. Again mixing actual Knightmare-style TV gameplay with a plot steered by the two excellent leads Paul Flannery and Tom Bell with great chemistry, they and we revel in the near panto-like atmosphere, as we cheer satchels and being in a room. My handy dandy Fringe map in its lovely cardboard bogroll tube make a guest appearance as a prop (photo to follow), which affords me the excuse to nip backstage afterward and say hello to Tom Bell. Lovely chaps.



This Shit Just Got Reel
Dance
The Clootie Dumplings
The Frooty Goose

And entertaining hour of combined filthy comedy and highland dance from the lively performers of the Clootie Dumplings, students at the Strathclyde College of Proctology. I especially enjoyed their Gay Gordons whilst carrying out a routine prostate examination. A show that will haunt me for some time.



Extreme Humans
Comedy
The Lazy Susans
Pleasance That (a portakabin round the side)

Quickfire sketches from two very talented performers, this show fills a gap in our schedule left by the much-missed Dog Eared Collective. Interleaved character situations and running gags that call back to each other, suggesting a shared universe. Excellent quick costume changes (and moustache drawing) and well observed characters in performers of such youth. Would love to see more of them and pray that they achieve success without being fed into the production line of BBC3 comedy.



The Dark Room
Comedy
John Robertson
Underbelly, oh stinky crowded Underbelly

Totally different format to everything else we've seen, John Robertson blacks out the room and moves about us as a disembodied face, as one by one, members of the audience take their chances in the Dark Room. Based on the old text adventures of the 80s and 90s, the player is presented with limited choices which lead either to nowhere, verbal abuse or Death. Or all three. By the end of the show, we are all chanting along with the opening lines of the game, You awake to find yourself in a dark room. Nostalgic and crowd-pleasing. A cult exercise in futility.



Marcel Lucont Is
Comedy
Alexis Dubus
Pleasance Dome (that big student union building with the comedy muriel inside in previous years)

Accomplished observations and mild arrogance from France's most laid back raconteur. I genuinely felt my blood pressure lower during the performance. Which is a good thing, I mean. Marcel takes his time, makes us enjoy the pauses and the silence, and methodically works his way through a glass or two of wine as he treats us to poetry and extracts from his autobiography Moi. A bit of Q and A at the end which is a bit of a gamble as it depends on just the right Qs to A, but a most polished show. Make sure you don't get stuck behind Americans with large heads like we did.



Licence To Laugh
Comedy
Joe Bain, Various
The White horse down the bottom of the Royal Mile

A very late show for us, as we catch up with CJ to see him headlining a stand-up showcase hour hosted by Joe Bain. Herself and I must first apologise to Joe again for accidentally accepting an invitation to take part in one of his earlier shows - oh the perils of a Facebook invite. The show is a mixed bag of monsters, to quote the 1975 Dr Who Monster Book, with highlights for me being a young chap called Rodders, who had quite a way about him, and Mr CJ himself, making the deaf swearing/Alan Bennett/sexual harassment comedy subgenre his very own :)



And so to bed, after dragging a hyper CJ past the comedy bus in the Three Sisters courtyard, where he fancied squeezing in a 1:30am slot. Herself suggested that the two cop cars that had just pulled up outside did not bode well for the quality of the audience.


8 shows tomorrow. Feck.

The Chocolate Ocelot’s 2013 Fringe - Day Seven

Last day. Sad face.

Due to the stupid amount of time it takes me to write up each previous day’s Pouch report, every morning this week has been something of a rush here at McOcelot Mews. So even though we are keen to nip out to catch a free interactive detective show called The Hawke Papers at The Blind Poet at 11:00, there’s no way I can finish hammering at the laptop, pull on an increasingly manky timetable t-shirt and rush across town in time for the start. Which is a shame.

Speaking of the fabled t-shirt, it has served its purpose well this week, both as a scheduling tool and also as an aid to meeting people. But after several hot days in various cramped theatrical venues, it has rather started to walk around on its own. So I opt for my venerable (but clean) Chimp Guevara top instead. Next year, Herself announces, we shall have black t-shirts, so they can last longer.

I should also point out here that m’colleague has also equipped herself this week with wee laminated timetable cardlets, attached to her person by a sturdy steel ring, which miraculously have survived this entire adventure without coming off, being sat on or gouging out a small person’s eye, which is a result. Well worth repeating this key piece of Fringe equipment next time.

Ellievision

Laughing Horse at the Counting House

Billed with a running time of only thirty minutes, this midday show appeals to us on paper not only for its compact duration but also its performer, Snog, Marry, Avoid presenter Ellie Taylor. More stand-up performers should be honest about how much material they have, and just put on half an hour’s worth of good stuff, rather than try to stretch it out to a full hour by various means (throwing stuff open to the audience in the hope of some good back and forth banter, an ill-conceived game show segment, or the inevitable uke number, for example).

This is a damn tight, very entertaining show, eventually running to about forty to forty-five minutes, which was just fine in this case. Ellie is personable, friendly and most importantly of all, funny. She recounts tales of her time as a model, weird holidays with her family and Essexy anecdotes with a practiced delivery. The smooth patter, funny voices and gurning all go down very well. I’d certainly see her again.  

Whodidit

The Space @ Surgeon’s Hall

Because we just can’t resist going to comedy murder mystery shows, as may have become evident by now.

Oh dear. This wasn't great. You should know that I hate to speak ill of anyone who's brave and resourceful enough to get off their bums and spend a month at the Fringe, often playing to tiny audiences, no matter how… um… not all that good, they are. But Whodidit is not all that good.

This is a spoof murder mystery, of the ‘mad strangler kills off everyone in a big house one at a time’ variety. And we get to see each and every mad strangling, which is essentially the same gag repeated over and over. Some of the lines are delivered ponderously and with little feel for the comedy in the script (and some of the lines are actually funny, though much is fairly timid pantomimish japery from the Clitheroe Kid era). A couple of the actors manage to kill all feeling of pace and jollity with their straight delivery, which is a shame. And it’s an hour and fifteen minutes long, which is waaay too long.

But here are the good bits: the cast all appear to be hovering around retirement age, so fair play to them for putting on a show which, ponderous as it is at times, still requires nipping on and off stage to make a few costumes changes. Also, the big chap who plays the murderer and the uncle in the wheelchair ain't half bad, and the chap with the Lionel Jeffries 'tache who plays the inspector executes a most impressive judo roll during a mimed tussle to great effect. Finally, their breezy, colourful clownish costumes are perfectly complemented by the jolly pairs of crocs the cast are all sporting – the ideal footwear for the older performer, combining comfort, style and grip in one rubbery package.

Alexis Dubus: Cars and Girls

The Dram House

The Dram House, just off Guthrie Street, currently abuts a building site, wherein the old Gilded Balloon stood. Hence the peculiar backdrop to this hour of poetry, as I cannot take my eyes off the enormous bliming crane-claw thing hauling several tons of concrete up and down scant metres away from the window behind Mr Dubus’ head. This impending sense of constructorial death adds piquancy to the performance, in my opinion.

I should also say that I am now unsure how to pronounce Dubus, since the ticket guy outside the Dram House pronounced it Dubois. That can’t be right, can it? I’d been going with ‘DOObus’. Message me if you know the right answer.

Since we weren't able to summon up the financial support to put in a reasonable bid for a private show from Alexis' French alter-ego Marcel Lucont, we are more than happy to sit in on his work in progress poetry, which boiled down to a couple of longish stories from his early twenties, one a hitch-hiking trip with a girlfriend through France, Spain and Morocco, the other his dreamlike experiences at the Burning Man festival in Nevada in the company of his friend Hayden (hmm, nice name).

Entertaining, touching, educational and frequently rhyming, it’s all good stuff. We chat to Alexis afterwards and say we hope to attend Marcel’s late night cabaret that evening, though the future will prove that our collective flesh will be far too weak to make good on the promise. I'm sure it’s a great show though. Google Marcel Lucont for some fine YouTube material.

Smashed

Assembly at the Mound

Once more to the gothic building where we saw Avenue Q. The rain has finally decided to show its sodden face over the skies of Edinburgh, but once again the handy Bat-Utility Rucksack has the answer, in the shape of my handy brolly. After a pleasant chat with some ladies of leisure, swapping show recommendations (them - a drumming thing where everyone gets to join in, us - The Show That Goes Wrong), we shuffle inside for a hypnotic hour of ensemble juggling.

The quickest way to describe Smashed, if this makes any sense, is The Ukulele Orchestra Of Great Britain, but with juggling. Nine people, several dozen apples and some oh-so fragile crockery, set to easy listening fortiesesque music (the only one I can now remember being Little Jack Little’s I Always Wanted To Waltz in Berlin). There’s something incredibly mesmeric and almost soporific (though that may just be because we were incredibly zonked out by this point) about watching nine people dressed in smart suits and frocks simultaneously juggling apples and slowly sauntering by us in a never ending circle.

A couple of segments are just downright weird (the bit with the two women crawling past the seven men on all fours whilst apples are rolled down their spines comes to mind, as does the woman jugglespanking all the chaps), but the majority of the show is rather charming, demonstrating their fruit juggling skills in a variety of show pieces and staged contests.

The finale is a bit of a gear-change from the rest of the show, and involves a few sets of crockery which do not survive intact. I’ll be very surprised if Smashed gets through the entire Fringe run without anyone complaining about this bit, as several shards of broken pottery do go flying into the audience (along with masticated apple pulp).

Excellent stuff, but don’t sit in the first few rows.

By the way, the apples are gala. I know because I asked one of the jugglers afterwards and he gave me a battered complementary fruit as a Mr Benn style souvenir. It made it as far as Princes Street before I finally binned it. Just like the Alleycats a cappella show, I emerged from Smashed desperately wanting to juggle. It may well be that a capella juggling could be my ultimate show of choice next year, after Shaolin Ladyboys of course.

Tricity Vogue’s Ukulele Cabaret

Laughing Horse at the Counting House

We meet up with chum and impro-poet CJ, who’s just rolled into town for his Fringe debut later this week. Sadly we’ll be away by then, but we have just enough time to download all our Fringe-fu into his frontal cortex, as well as press a spare timetable into his hands, with a warning to steer clear of avant garde electro noir and hexagenarian whodiditry.

Then a scamper back across the Nor Loch for our last show! Coz it ain't the Fringe without at least one uke show. Hosted by Tricity Vogue, sporting her splendid golden uke headpiece, we are treated to guest spots from three performing chums, who display their uking and singing skills to the crowd. Judges from the audience score each performer and the winner of the Uke Of Edinburgh award gets to play Tricity’s head-uke. We all get to join in on King of the Swingers and Wild Thing, which is fun.

What is not fun are the drunken twats who totally spoil the show for me and probably the performers too. This is of course an occupational hazard of staging free shows late at night in a pub; there’s nothing to stop pissed up twazzocks staggering in and killing the fun. In this case, the offenders are three middle-aged blokes who damn well ought to have known better, but are clearly so smashed they are unable to stop wolf whistling, chewing loudly, and generally behaving inappropriately throughout.

You can be sure that the Ocelot was quietly raging against them several seats away and trying desperately to manifest heretofore unknown head-asploding powers. In a proper venue with door staff and stuff, this wouldn't happen; they’d get the evil eye or be quietly escorted out, but here at the Counting House, we must simply all endure these fifty-year-old yobs pissing about and screwing up what should have been a lovely feel-good climax to the evening (and our week at the Fringe). Shame on you, drunken old people. When I'm in charge of everything, I will find you and wreak a fitting revenge on Tricity’s behalf, possibly involving giant flying ukes.

So that’s it. Fringe all done for us. But not for everyone else, for it continues another couple of weeks at least. Good luck to all of you still performing or yet to venture on stage / back room of pub. See you next year.