Sorry Miriam, but I have to disagree...

NO HE ISN'T

We went to see Miriam Margolyes on the Fringe yesterday. A wonderful show, the actor pouring her talents into bringing Dickens characters to life, telling hilarious stories of her own life. She's great entertainment, and an unfiltered voice on the world. It's refreshing to hear a prominent Jewish voice speak out against the Israeli government's criminality and genocidal policies.

At the end there was an audience Q&A, and someone asked for her opinion of the Tangerine Tyrant. You probably know the gist of the answer already. She's not a fan, is she? She declared that he, along with the likes of Niggle Fuhrage, was a fascist. And there I felt myself disagreeing with her.

Fascism is an (abhorrent) ideology. And there is always some vague, if ill founded, belief system behind it. There is a form of coherence to the thinking of the fascist. There is no doubt that the likes of the Deform leader, and his cronies, meet the definition. Farage is a fascist, always has been. But Trump? I don't think so.

Certainly he has surrounded himself with a lot of people who are fascists. And clearly the results of his actions (I would hesitate to call them 'policies') can be seen as fascistic. But, as I said above, being a fascist involves a belief in some ideology. However the Mandarin Moron only has one belief - an even more ill-founded one it's true - in himself. This is the man (?) who mused, out loud, that injecting bleach into humans might help against covid. This is the creature (better) that said, to camera, that he was going to lower prices by 1000%.

Trump is not a fascist. Trump is, genuinely, too stupid to be a fascist. Sorry Miriam. Everything else you said was true.

That was the, or a, Fringe

 IT'S THE FRINGE JIM, BUT NOT AS WE KNOW IT

Regular readers (??) will be aware of my love for Edinburgh's festivals, particularly the Fringe, and that every August my days became dedicated to comedy and music and drama and street acts and the whole experience of a city filled to overcapacity with artists and punters. We'd usually find our way to about forty or fifty shows, plus spending time watching buskers and the like. Three weeks well lived. 

But not in 2020. Edinburgh felt like a ghost of it's former self.  In the midst of a global pandemic this feltmore of a relief than a disappointment.  But now it's 2021 and the Fringe returned.  Not the Fringe of the past, but a smaller, less intense, more geographically distributed Fringe.  It had changed.  And so had we.

I would have liked to recover my old enthusiasm, but twas not to be.  A year and a half of caution, of keeping a distance, of not mixing with other people, has made me even more antisocial than I was before.  So there was no great mass booking of tickets, not detailed schedule of daily activities.  Instead there was a desire to go to see shows, but also to feel comfortable, to feel safe.  And what that means is very much down to personal experiences and preferences and what feels right for the individual concerned.  I'd go to town to see what shows we had, but wandering about to see what was happening felt too odd, in light of recent times, even if it was a joy not to be given any fliers on my one venture down the High Street!

In the end we saw a curious of mix of events, felt much more comfortable where there was plenty of fresh air, and enjoyed what we did see.  Even if it meant abandoning some tickets already bought, because our one experience of the venue just didn't feel 'right'.  This was reflected in my daft hobby of trying to right reviews for the events I go to see.  I gave up on that after the first two, because I found myself wanting to write about the venue, and the social distancing measures they had in place, as much as I did the actual show!  The subsequent reviews are getting written, but only as a reminder to myself of what we've been to see, and they won't be getting shared with others.

My final tally amounted to seventeen events attended, plus a couple online.  Only eight of those were Fringe shows.  Three of those were indoors, two on the top deck of a multistory car park (yes, really...), one in the open air, one walking the streets, and one online.  There were five in deck chairs, outdoor film screenings from the Film Festival which had forgone it's usual June slot and joined in the August activities.  Three in giant open sided polytunnel like structures as part of the International Festival.  Two under a big plastic gazebo, at the BBC's new location.  And the final one, last night, was a Book Festival event online.  Hardly any of the above were in venues I would normally find myself in during Augusts past.  And of the nineteen only half a dozen were comedy shows, which is very far from the usual ratio.

We had fun.  The EIF gigs were all outstanding (as was their covid-related admin!).  I do hope that 2022 sees the return of something more like the old Fringe experience.  But whether I will be the same person I was remains to be seen.  The pandemic has changed society.  And individuals.

From Fringe to Fridge

MUSIC, FILM, COMEDY AND... HOCKEY

Monday - Fringe came to an end, and we fitted in a final couple of shows courtesy of the half price hut.  Tuesday - Return to the Fridge of Dreams, and a first chance to see some of the new players that will make up the Edinburgh capitals team this season.  Monday - Hot, sweaty rooms that have you wringing your shirt out.  Tuesday - Cold, cold and more cold.  Icy ice rink.

Contrasts.  Next Sunday I can indulge in the Asian exoticism of The Edinburgh Mela during the day, and the chilled and pie scented air of Murrayfield in the evening.  Life is never boring here.

I see some of my fellow Caps fans on social media over the summer, wishing their lives away until the rink opens it's doors and there's a puck getting battered about again.  That's not a problem I ever have to resolve these days  April - hockey ends for the season.  May - TradFest.  June - FilmFest.  July _ JazzFest.  August - Fringe, and all the other shenanigans that plonk several hundreds of thousands of tourists on top of us and turn entertainment into a stamina test.  And then.... hey, it's hockey season again.  I hardly missed it.

It helps to have the time to do all these things (being retired is a big part of that help...).  And, of course, it does need a bit of spare cash, and some financial planning.  (Being poor in this city is no better than it is anywhere else, and there are still way too many people who have to live lives of poverty in this, our grossly wealthy society.)  I fully recognise how privileged I am.  Part of that privilege is being able to live in one of the world's most beautiful cities, and take advantage of so much of what it has to offer.  Which, for the next seven months, will mostly mean Edinburgh Capitals...

Where's my next comedy hero?

SEEKING OUT THE NEW

You have to do the Fringe right.  Or at least do it in whatever way feels 'right' to you.  For some that means booking the big names, the ones they've seen on the telly, heard on the radio, or spotted on the biggest posters.  Sometimes I do the same, if only out of curiosity.  And it turns out that these 'stars' are just like anyone else, just as flawed.

So some turn out to be disappointing, a failure to meet the hype their image has created.  And a recognition that being funny in short bursts on a carefully-edited TV panel show isn't the same as delivering a one hour solo show.  Sometimes they are excellent, as mark Watson or Romesh Ranganathan have been, sometimes not quite what was hoped for, like Katherine Ryan a few days ago, and sometimes outright poor, as Ed Byrne was a few years ago (although, to be fair, we saw him again more recently and he was superb, but that just goes back to what I was saying about merely human).

Still, it's an understandable, even sensible, approach if you only have a couple of days in Edinburgh and want to be sure of having a good time.  But if even if you go see all these 'big' names, and enjoy them, have you really 'done' the Fringe?  There are more than three thousand shows on offer, plus offerings from all the various other festivals running simultaneously, and they range from the sublime to the downright horrendous.  What there most certainly is is something for everyone.  If you can find it.

And for someone who has the luxury of being a city resident , and having the time-richness that comes with no longer having to work for a living, sticking with the familiar is absolutely the 'wrong' way of going about things.  But I would also argue it's 'wrong' for even the short term visitor.

Blyth's number one rule of Fringe-going : If you haven't seen something you thought was a bit shit then you haven't been trying hard enough.  (Or you're just very, very lucky....)

Blyth's number two rule of Fringe-going : If more than half the shows you go to see feature acts you've seen before then you're not being brave enough.

Yes, go pick a few sure fire winners.  But take risks too, go for people you've never heard of and see if, under the covers, lurks a diamond or a lump of coal.  Often you'll find someone you'll love and want to see again.  And sometimes you'll just wish you could have that hour of your life back.  But you probably learned something from the experience.  (Last year we had a powerful reminder of one of the comedian's golden rules - if you start blaming the audience for not laughing then you are definitely the problem.)

We've only seen four Fringe shows so far (breaking ourselves in gently), and three of those have been people we've seen before.  That set alarm bells off in my head so I had a check through the shows we currently have booked, and was able to recover my smugness.  About two thirds are acts we haven't seen at all, or only seen doing short sets before.  (And by 'seen' I don't mean on telly, but doing ten or fifteen minutes slots in bigger shows.  And I'm not sure if Will Franken counts in that category, as he was a woman last time we saw him....)

We have the people we return to every year - such as Mark Thomas, Stewart Lee, Aidan Goatley - so there's a bedrock of quality we know we can rely on.  There are others we've meant to see in the past and ran out of time/money/energy.  Some chosen through personal recommendation.  And some chosen because we wanted a mix of genres in our choices.

And then there's the Free Fringe.  There's a few quite big names in those line-ups too, the likes of Janey Godley and Pippa Evans for instance, but most are relatively unknown.  Or totally obscure.  And that's where the greatest potential form discoveries lies.

How to choose?  Whim.  Serendipity.  Random factors like an interesting photo or title, or something in the very brief blurb that catches your attention.  It's best to be arbitrary and fortuitous.  Trust in the Fates.  Go for bold.

So today's job is going through the Free Fringe programmes and slotting a few choices into the timetable for the weeks ahead.  And then just waiting to see what we've drawn out of the lucky bag.  By the end of the month I'll have a new favourite performer.  I've just no idea who it'll be yet.

Goodbye Victoria

NEVER MEET YOUR HEROES?

Forty years ago I'd never been to a stand up comedy show.  It was nowhere near as easy to find as it is today.  But living in Edinburgh there was, of course, The Fringe.  So a mate and I got tickets to go and see somebody we'd heard off on the telly.  Jasper Carrot (don't mock, he was pretty cool in the seventies....).  Before the lights go down there's an announcement.  The advertised support act had had to call off, but they'd got hold of a replacement at short notice.  This didn't sound encouraging.

The show begins.  A name is read out.  On stage  a short, slightly dumpy, woman appears with a blonde bob and an apprehensive air.  She looked hardly any older than we were.  And she looked just mildly terrified.

I can't recall how long her set was, probably no more than thirty minutes, but I'm not sure what she had to worry about.  She was superb.  It's too far back for me to recall any of the subject matter, so all I have in my memory is being struck by just how much I was laughing and how easy she made it look.  Carrot followed, was excellent, if a little predictable, but when we emerged all we found ourselves talking about was this unknown Victoria Wood woman and wondering if we'd ever hear of her again....

So I became a fan quite early on in her career, although in those pre internet days it wasn't really possible to see where she got to.  One thing that gig did teach me was that often it's the unknowns who will prove to be best to watch, a lesson I continue to follow to this day.

Later she'd turn up on TV doing those wonderful comic songs on That's Life and go on to become a small screen favourite.  The likes of Acorn Antiques and Dinner Ladies have become classics and are still as funny to watch now.  I got to see her doing stand up a couple of times in the nineties, in much bigger venues than that first one of course, and it was the sheer energy of her performance that stays in the memory.  Meanwhile she's knocking out a great comedy film like Pat and Margaret, or going on to write, and star in, straight drama in Housewife, 49.

I heard her being interviewed one time, saying that in her early years as a stand up she'd been terrible and terrified.  Which made me wish I could tell her what a hit she'd made on us all those years ago.  To my surprise, I got my chance to do so.  The premier of Loving Miss Hatto, which Victoria wrote, was shown at the Filmhouse, and after the screening she was up on stage to answer questions.  All very amusing of course.  I was a bit slow getting out of the building and when I did Barbara was there pointing and saying 'go and talk to her'.  And sure enough, there was this tiny figure standing on the pavement on Lothian Road and, for that moment, on her own.  So I went over, introduced myself, said what I wanted to say, and we had a bit of a laugh about it.  And Barbara took this picture.

I'm not generally one for getting excited about celebrities (or feeling affected by the deaths of musicians, actors etc.), but for the next few hours I couldn't stop myself  saying "I talked to Victoria Wood" in a squeaky excited voice.  The voice was put on, the excitement wasn't.  You never know if a star will be as pleasant to talk to you as you imagine.  She was.  She was lovely, and modest and exactly as you'd imagine her to be.  And tiny.  Very, very tiny.

You also got the sense that she had integrity, that whole showbiz thing wasn't for her and she'd be as happy doing what she did in relative anonymity.  She always said she wouldn't get drawn into the whole comedy panel show thing on TV, and stuck with that.  But she did appear on my favourite radio comedy programme, which produced this gem.

Ask comedians who their biggest influences are and the name William Connolly always seem to come up.  Of course Billy is one of the great comedians of our time, but I think some of the admiration for him comes from the wide range of talents he's displayed over the years - singer, musician, writer, straight and comic actor etc etc.  A true renaissance man.  Yet Victoria, if not his equal in the art of stand up, was his match, or superior in the rest.  And The Big Yin never wrote one of the great TV sitcoms or most iconic sketches.  Two soups anyone?

The news of Victoria's death today did sadden me, the more so I suspect because I did have that brief opportunity to meet one of my heroes.  Even if I never did get the chance to beat her on the bottom with the Woman's Weekly.

My 2015 Fringe Top Ten

REALLY?  A TOP TEN WITHOUT MARK THOMAS?

For the past two years I've come up with a list of the ten Edinburgh Festival shows I enjoyed most and here's the 2015 selection.  But with a difference.  Looking back at those previous posts I can see a pattern emerging.  Every year we go to see a Mark Thomas show, every year he's simply brilliant, every year he'd be in my top ten list.  And that could get a bit dull, so this year there's no mention of Mark Thomas in this post.  Not even to say what a genius Mark Thomas is.

Instead this year's list will be restricted to people I haven't been to see before, or have only seen in a different context.  So that means that some of my favourite acts of this August - the likes of Stewart Lee, Aidan Goatley, Jess Thom and Mark Thomas - won't be cropping up in the following spiel.

As before I'm not going to try to put the shows into any ranking order.  They were all superb, all memorable in their varying ways, so the order below is simply the order in which I went to see them (and I've provided links to my reviews if you're interested).  If you get the opportunity to see any of them you won't be disappointed.

The first new (to me) act to make a big impression was The Big Bite Sized Breakfast Show.  Food and coffee are a good way to start a morning show, followed by five mini-plays in one hour.  The acting was excellent, the laughs frequent.  What surprised most was ability of the writers to manage to say something interesting, albeit at a surface level, on a wide variety of topics in such short periods of time.  So good was the experience that we went back later in the month to see another of the three 'menus' being offered.  And it didn't disappoint.

Number two on the list left a lasting impression.  Whenever anyone asked us to recommend a show we'd already seen the words 'George Egg' always popped out first.  This was not only an extremely funny and imaginative show, but it managed to smell and taste good too.  Watching someone cook a three course meal using hotel room implements is both surreal and one of those why-hasn't-it-been-done-before? moments.  It's a beautifully structured and deeply engrossing hour of entertainment and an eye opener when you see how little we make of the resources we find around us.  I keep on wondering how Mr Egg is going to follow it up next year.

For number three I'm back with drama, albeit this time a more conventional two handed play.  Performed by Culture Clash Theatre, Hannah and Hanna was moving, involving and relevant, beautifully rendered by the two young actors.  When you see over sixty shows in around three weeks some will inevitably fade from the memory.  But even now my mental images of H&H remain strong, and the sense that I could easily sit through another performance and still find much that was new in the experience.

And now for something completely different.  Hotel Paradiso from the German company Family Floez.  Set in an Alpine hotel lobby an array of characters flit in and out of the action with impressive choreography and timing.  There is no dialogue, the actors wear masks throughout, and the physical comedy is often good old fashioned slapstick.  It's hilarious, absorbing, using body language to convey an entire storyline.  And the biggest surprise comes at the end when you find out that those endless hotel guests etc. were all portrayed by just four people.  Unforgettable.

Number five is a bit of a cheat as it's two shows, but one man.  What I Learned From Johnny Bevan is a one man coming of age drama that sticks pins in our idiotic class system, a powerfully poetic work.  Which is no coincidence as the writer/performer is Luke Wright whose other show sees him reciting his poetry of everyday life, with wit and panache.  Wright has the makings of being a star performer and is a pleasure to watch in either of the guises offered up.

An Australian next.  I can't recall what prompted me to decide to see this show, but I'm so glad I followed whatever serendipitous instinct was driving me that day.  Sarah Kendall is not only very funny, but an excellent storyteller.  Fact or fiction, her tale has something to say about the choices we make in life and their consequences.  One of the finds of the month.

Another bit of cheating.  We have seen Mark Steel before, but that was recording a radio show, so I feel able to include this stand up show as something different.  Anyway, he was bloody brilliant.  Telling the story of his search for his birth parents (he was adopted) Steel, who often gets confused with fellow left wing London comedian Mark Thomas, exudes compassion, humanity, cynicism and some enjoyably vicious drollery as he relates his tale.  There are plenty of surprises along the way but Mark is always realistic about his discoveries and there are none of the faux hysterics so beloved of Who Do You Thing You Are? on TV.  A lesson in how to remain grounded.

Number eight is also, surprise, surprise, a comedian renowned for their left of centre commentaries upon the world.  Like her husband, the wonderful Stewart Lee, Bridget Christie finds oblique angles from which to skewer pretension, injustice and convention.  Ranting doesn't get any funnier, or more thought provoking, than this.

Character comedy next.  Tom Binns delivered three very different personalities, the linking factor being his ability to poke fun at various showbiz stereotypes.  A master at engaging with his audience, Binns gives his characters an illusory reality whilst letting the audience in on the joke.  One of the funniest hours of the month.

Finally there's one more stand up show, one more comedian with a story to tell.  Mel Moon's verbal memoir has a serious core to it.  Diagnosed with an illness which means she's constantly at risk of death, Moon tells of the dark moments that knowledge took her to, but which also encouraged her to write a stand up show about her experiences.  If I'm told that a show I'm about to see is 'uplifting' my natural cynicism will probably express itself with two fingers down my throat.  So it was some achievement that I walked out knowing I'd just seen something very positive, even inspirational.  And also very funny.  I laughed.  A lot.  You would too.

So that was then, roll on August 2016.  And I think I just about managed to get away with not mentioning Mark Thomas.

A different Fringe. With a twist.

AN ODDITY OF AN AUGUST

August in Edinburgh means Festival time.  And for us that means three and a bit weeks of going to Fringe shows.  In the end we managed to take in 62 shows, most of them excellent. We could have tried for just one more on the final day, but I think we'd hit an entertainment wall by then.  Not to mention suffering from 'Fringe arse'. Comfy seats are a novelty in Fringe venues.

So we had a great time, but there were a couple of reasons why it wasn't our usual Fringe experience.  The first was entirely self inflicted.  Just for something to do I've started posting reviews of all shows, gigs and films I go to on my other blog.  Easy enough most of the time, but it became a bit of a challenge during those three weeks.  Not that it began to feel like work at all, that would be stupid, but on the days when we saw four or even five shows it did take a fair bit of time to knock them out.

The challenge was all the greater because of the second reason.  About two days in I started to feel like I had a bit of a cold.  No worries.  Except for some reason that decided to develop into a chest infection, then my wife got the same, then I started to feel better only for it to come back again even worse than before.  I, we, spent most of August struggling to breathe properly and, embarrassingly, trying not to cough during shows (thank goodness for comedy - you can always cough when everyone else is laughing!), with my worst experience being at the Blueflint gig.  Not only did they decide to come up into the audience to do an acoustic number, but the lead vocalist stood six feet away from me.   Guess when a coughing fit decided to hit me....?

Still, I'm not after any sympathy - we did see those 62 and had a fantastic time.  I'll be posting my personal top ten in the next few days.  And I still haven't mentioned the oddest moment of the whole Fringe, one that will make it stand out in my mind for years.

Our penultimate show was Joanna Neary.  Not one we'd booked ourselves, but a friend had kindly bought us tickets in return for a favour.  During the show Joanna indulged in a bit of audience participation and I was one of the people she talked to.  Having got her head around my name (eventually) she asked me questions and had a laugh with my answers.  'Blyth' got uttered about ten times.  I hadn't anticipated there would be consequences.

At the end of the show a man came up to me and asked if I was Blyth Crawford.  Regular readers will be aware I only returned to live in Edinburgh last year after thirty five years down south, so I don't know a lot of people here yet.  For about a tenth of a second my brain thought this had to be someone who remembered my name from School or uni, but he was clearly far too young for that to be possible.  Maybe he had been at one of the places I worked before I left?

But no, this was Gary Bainbridge, a Liverpool journalist I've had Twitter conversations with a few times, but never encountered in real life.  This was his first of only two nights in the city, he just happened to be at the same show that somebody else had bought our tickets for, I just happened to be one of only two audience members who got their name called out, and I just happen to have a weird name that you don't come across very often.  I think that counts as odd.

Nice to meet you Gary.  Even if it was somewhere on the extreme edge of coincidence.

How to laugh at a Fringe show

HOW TO LAUGH AT THE FRINGE

It's been a few years since we got to one, but we were in the audience for several recordings of the classic Radio Four comedy series, I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue.  In his introductory remarks the producer always tells the crowd that there may be times when you hear one of the panel say something and you're not sure if it's funny or not.  If this happens, give them the benefit of the doubt....

Of course he wants us to do this so there's a good laughter track for the radio show, audience reaction being a critical element in a decent aural comedy.  (The cynic in me thinks it's also to save a bit of extra work in the editing....)  Plus it's true that the more you laugh, the more likely you are to continue laughing, and the noise gives added inspiration to the comedians themselves, a true virtuous circle.

Much the same applies to being in a Fringe audience, and even more so if the number of you sitting facing the person behind the mike has failed to climb above single figures.  So there are two types of laughter you need to have ready.  There's the genuine, just-can't-stop-myself, hilarity induced laugh.  The one you go to comedy shows to experience, the one that releases all those lovely endorphins and gives you a high, the one that results in you walking out of the room clutching your chest because it hurt so much to laugh.

Then there's the other kind.  The benefit-of-the-doubt kind.  When you can see that the person up there is really, really trying and just needs a bit of encouragement to get into their funnybone rhythm.  When you can feel that something went a bit amiss with the joke but it really could have been good enough.  When you can't help but like them even though they're not making you laugh.  When it gets so bad you just have to laugh out loud to try and get through it....

And if the total of number one type laughs exceeds the number twos then you're laughing.  But too many number twos, as with other areas in life, is a sign all is not well.

So far so good for our Fringe to date.  Only one show so far where the number twos threatened to overwhelm the ones (that may be an image you won't want to dwell on), and even that had enough moments to feel like it had been just about enjoyable enough.  Tonight we know not what laughing challenge we face.  The comedian approached us a couple of days ago, we got chatting, and she said we were just the kind of 'jolly people' she needed at her show when the reviewers were in.  (Yes, I do know she says that to everyone, but, hey, we got a free ticket.  And we're easily flattered.)   In return for the ticket we are there to give her a few number twos and help loosen up the audience, in case they are one of those crowds that feel they need permission to laugh.  We're there to give our friendly comic a boost when she hears our amusement at her lines.  We're there because - did I mention the free ticket?

Will it be a show dominated by twos or ones?  You can find out when I write my review on here later today.

Let down at not being let down by the Fringe

DISAPPOINTED AT NOT BEING DISAPPOINTED

Partly as a hobby, partly as a bit of a challenge, I decided, earlier this year, that I'd have a go at writing a review of every gig, show, play and film I go to, and post them on my other blog.  Knowing that, once August arrived, I would be committing myself to a fair bit of 'work'.

There's no pretence I have any degree of expertise in any of the fields I'm critiquing, these are just my views on what I've seen.  I've tried to be as honest as possible, even if that meant being heavily critical of someone I might like as a person.  If just a few people find one of these posts helps point them towards something new they'll enjoy, or helps them avoid something awful, then I'll feel it's been of use.

So it's important that I do reflect the negative as well as the positive.  Nobody is going to place any trust in a review blog that simply heaps praise on each and every event covered.  Last night I wrote about Nina Conti, a show that was hilarious overall, but had a couple of weak spots and I made sure I mentioned them too.

But what to write on a day like today.  Three shows, three great experiences, three I'd happily see again.  I can make minor carping noises about one, because it was the first performance and clearly it needed a little more familiarity, but that will be there within days.  Otherwise.... it was all just bloody brilliant.  Honest.

Roll on the day when I see something a bit shit again and I can regain some credibility.




What a fabulous day, 
All warm and sunny,
Three great shows,
They were all very funny

Though I would look better
And less of a tit
If even one
Had been just a bit shit

It's August, in Edinburgh, I'm excited.

WITH ONLY DAYS TO GO....

I first started going to Fringe shows back in 1974.  Sadly my long sojourn down south means that it didn't become the annual event I'd have loved it to be, but I've been to a fair number of shows over the decades, and the number has increased greatly since we retired.  Last year we hit sixty events, of one sort or another, over the three weeks.  But instead of getting blasé about the whole thing I find myself feeling just as excited as ever that August is finally here and our first shows are just a few days away.

Of course the posters have been going up, and the physical preparation of the city taking place, for a few weeks now.  So the sense of anticipation starts to grow as the face of Edinburgh slaps on the makeup and gets ready to prostitute itself to the masses once more.  Many residents hate it of course, for the huge disruption it brings to their daily lives.  And the killjoy tendency has always had a strong Calvinist following up here.  I have never been one of them and, despite the over-commercialisation that is synonymous with the twisted society we find ourselves in, still find myself childishly delighted at the prospect of three weeks of shows, fliers and confused looking crowds.

The planning of our Fringe is largely complete, with thirty shows booked so far, plenty of Free Fringe shows still to be slotted into the schedule, and a list of 'possible' to fill in those free moments.  Just to make it interesting we have three different groups of people coming to stay with us at various times.  But they can find their own shows to go to....

So what do I find myself looking forward to the most?  Inevitably there are a few old reliable favourites we'll be back to see again, and who I know won't be a disappointment.  That includes just a few names who people might know off telly or radio.  And topping that list has to be Mark Thomas.  Every year he comes up with something new, something brilliant, that's moving, funny, meaningful, funny, thought provoking and funny.  To us he's become unmissable.

I'm excited to be going back to see Stewart Lee, because there's nobody else quite like him as a storyteller, or at highlighting simple truths in a new framework.  Plus he despises ukip, so he's definitely one of the good guys.

There are also a few less well known acts that we've been to see before and wouldn't consider not returning to.  Austentatious put on an improvised play based on a spoof Jane Austen title put forward by a member of the audience.  Obviously they must have some stock routines and situations to fall back on and form the core of that day's production, but it's still impressive the way they take a title they've never heard of before and carry it through the hour.  And very funny, especially when things go a bit wrong.

Also the same but different, we'll be back to see Tourette's Hero, aka Jess Thom, delivering Backstage in Biscuit Land.  Even if the basic outline of the show won't have changed much Jess' condition guarantees it can never be the same show twice.  A major highlight of our 2014 Fringe.

And then there's the Return of the Danish Bagpipe Comedian, one Claus Reiss, with a title that describes exactly what and who he is, and yet manages to still be more eye catching than the myriad contrived names on offer.  Lovely guy too.  As is Chris Coltrane and sharply political , the Free Fringe answer to Mark Thomas.

And then there's Aidan Goatley.  Or as he's also known, Aidan Who?  Renowned on the Fringe as the man who is bringing back the same show for the fifth year running.  Which either indicates a very serious lack of imagination, or a show that audiences mysteriously fall in love with.  It may help that 10 Films With My Dad is a pretty good title.  Or that he keeps getting excellent reviews for it, and even invited to put it on in various parts of the globe.  But he has promised (again) that this will be it's final year of life.  Quite right too, or he may find himself featured in The Archers.  He's got another show too, something about goats.  Anyone not like goats?   Seriously though, he's a lovely man, very funny, and if you don't go and see him (twice) then it's only yourself you're fooling.

I'm also excited about some shows by people who will be entirely new to us.  Hannah and Hanna looks like an intriguing take on bigotry and racism in Britain, rather timely given the baying headlines of the media in blowing up events in Calais.  Barluath are a band we haven't come across before and look good on YouTube.  Last year we were delighted to discover the fabulous Dallahan at the same venue, so here's hoping we are similarly impressed.  And Hotel Paradiso is something a bit different, a masked theatrical performance from Germany that looks like providing a sophisticated form of slapstick.

Oh, and George Egg, a man who cooks a meal using items that can be found in a hotel room, and Simon Caine who has another one of these intriguing titles which may or may not be reflected in reality.  Anyway, I've just been talking to him on Facebook so I couldn't really leave him out.  No pressure Simon.

Finally, there's an aspect of 2014 I'll miss.  With only weeks to go before the fateful date of 18 September the Fringe featured several shows giving some take on the referendum to come.  We saw several great Indy themed shows, all with a strong Yes bent.  That's in the past, but two of the artists we saw dealing with the subject last year,  Bruce Fummey and Vladimir McTavish, have shows in which they explore the history of our country and how that reflects on our present.  The independence theme is still alive and well....

Roll on Wednesday and out first show.  Just need to complete a bit more stamina work first.

PS  I'll be attempting to post a review of every show I go to on my other blog so if you're coming to Edinburgh this month and want to know what I've seen that's good, or bad, then do give me a follow.  I'll also be posting links to the reviews on my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

Thinking of coming to The Fringe?

FIRST TIME FRINGING

A few people have been asking my advice about coming to the Edinburgh Fringe for the first time and, having provided a load of (hopefully) useful information I thought it might be of interest to others making their way here for their first August.

I'm not going to touch on accommodation since, as a resident of the city, I have no experience of what's what.  My only suggestions would be to book as many months ahead as possible, and try not to stay too far away from the centre, budget permitting.

And I'm going to stick to talking about The Fringe, with no reference to the International Festival, the Book Festival, or the Politics Festival (or even the Fringe by the Sea a few miles along the coast in North Berwick!).  But much of what I'm setting down here applies anyway.

Of course what kind of Festival experience you end up having depends on a huge variety of factors.  Your own tastes, budget, the number of days you are able to spend here and how adventurous you are.  But if you're baffled where to even begin then the following might just give you a starting point.

WHAT TO SEE

All good things must have a beginning and the best way to plan your time here is to get your hands on the Fringe Programme as early as possible.  It comes out in early June.

Which can immediately paralyse the decision making processes.  At over 400 pages, and with up to a dozen shows on each page, the first question is usually 'where do I start?'.  There are over 3,000 shows scattered across more than 300 venues so paucity of choice is not a problem.

There's also the Fringe website, which begins listing some shows in Spring, so you could choose to book some early and spread the cost of tickets.  The website allows you to search for acts if you know some key words for the kind of shows you want to see.  Whereas the paper version is probably a better bet if you want to browse and see what catches your eye.

If comedy is your thing you're both in and out of luck, because it's by far the largest section in the programme.  You'll see names in there you recognise off the telly, and/or radio, but don't let them distract you too much.  Have a look for shows that sound interesting and do a bit of research about their past reviews, maybe see if they're on YouTube.

The Fringe has venues dotted about the city, but the vast majority are in three adjoining areas of the centre.  Going from north to south these are
1. The New Town, centred on George Street and Saint Andrews Square.  (It's New in that it only dates back to the late 18th century.)
2. The Old Town, centred on the Royal Mile between the Castle and Holyrood.
3. The University district, usually centred on Bristo Square, although for 2015 that's less the case as there's a lot of redevelopment work taking place there.  Which means even more activity in George Square than usual.

If you're planning your days I'd suggest trying to stick to shows in one of those areas on each day.  Less hassle having to rush from one venue to another.  But more on that below.

It all depends on how hard core you want to be - I've known people to do ten shows a day - but cramming shows into every waking hour is only worth the effort if you're here for a couple of days at most.  Not only does it become exhausting, but you miss out on so many other aspects of the Fringe experience if you adopt that approach.  So I'd recommend only pre-booking a couple of shows each day, some of them from people you have never heard of, and letting fate take a bit of a hand the rest of the time.

Fate can hit you in several ways.  You should, at least once while you're here, go for a daytime walk down the High Street, in the pedestrian area running from George IV Bridge down to the Tron Kirk.  (This is also where you'll find the Fringe office, so you may be drawn there naturally.)  Do plan to allow yourself a bit of time.  You'll need it.  Because unless the heavens have opened you will be faced with a sizeable crowd, few of whom are looking where they're going.  (If you don't like crowds this may not be the place to go, but if you don't like crowds what on earth are you doing in Edinburgh in August?)  You will also be confronted by a small army, many of them in outlandish costumes, brandishing fliers at you.  You'll be tempted to ignore them.  Don't.  They are working their butts off to try and get people along to their shows, so at least take the proffered flier, and talk to a few of them along the way.  The results can be extremely funny, and fate may feel like nudging you in the direction of their show.

This area also hosts several outdoor stages and performance areas.  On a couple there are casts doing short acts aimed at tempting you to come and see their full length offerings.  There are music stages with a huge variety of acts appearing, many of them making their living from busking (so don't forget to donate something if you enjoy the performance).  And professional street entertainers, usually doing some form of physical comedy.  There are a few who do something really spectacular (look out for a Canadian called Stickman), but after years of Fringe going I have decided that there are only so many fire-eating, unicycling jugglers I can take!

Then there are the various Free Fringes running under the overall Fringe banner.  Some of their shows are in the big programme, but not all.  The two most important are PBH's Free Fringe and the Laughing Horse Free Festival.  Although the shows are on their websites it's a good idea to get to one of their venues as soon as you can and pick up their paper programmes.

'Free' is a misnomer of course.  It's free to get in the door, but there's a bucket to pay into when you leave, and you put in what you feel the show was worth.  So you know the performer(s) will be trying their hardest to entertain you.  There's a certain amount of snobbery attached to the Free Fringe from people who say you'll find nothing decent to watch there.  Nonsense.  In my experience the range of quality, from simply superb to catastrophically crap, is little different from that you'll find in the ticketed shows.  I've been to see Phill Jupitus on the free fringe, and this year one of Scotland's top comedians, Janey Godley has chosen this route rather than feeling she's getting ripped off again by one of the big venues.  We've found some of our favourite acts this way and the likes of Aidan Goatley, Kelly Kingham and Chris Coltrane are often far funnier than "that guy we know from off Mock the Week".  And how you could resist going to see "The Danish Bagpipe Comedian"?  (Recommended!)  So make sure you leave time to go see some of these people.  Oh, and the PBH Fringe also has one of the best venues in the city to visit, the Voodoo Rooms.

Finally I'd suggest a visit to the half price ticket hut on Princes Street.  There's a big display showing what's available later that day and it's a good way of discovering someone you never knew you liked.

If I was to distil all this into one aphorism it would be "Don't try to enjoy yourself all the time".  Which might sound like strange advice.  The fun of the Fringe is finding stuff you never even knew existed.  As a rule of thumb I'd say that if at least 10% of what you end up seeing wasn't to your taste, or proved too hard to understand, or was just a bit shit, then you probably haven't been doing it right.  Take a few risks in your choice of shows and you'll get a lot more out of your time. Trust me.

Throughout the Fringe period I'll be posting reviews of shows I've seen on my Go Live blog, so if want some recommendations....

GETTING AROUND

Walk.  As much as your feet and health and stamina allow.  There's a lot to see and some of it might surprise you.  Just accept that everywhere you go it will be uphill and into the wind.  Even on the way back.

But if you're staying out of town you're lucky that Edinburgh has one of the best bus services around.  Worth having a look at the Lothian Buses website before you come and check out which services will be of use - and if your accommodation has a night bus service near by.

The bit that catches out most newcomers is that no change is given on the buses.  So you may want to come armed with a good supply of pound coins and 50p pieces.  A single fare (any distance) is £1.50, a day ticket allowing unlimited usage on the day) is £4.  So if you think you'll take more than two buses that day then grab the second option.

There are a couple of options that can save lugging all that change around.  If you have a smartphone there's an app that allows you to buy tickets and flash your phone at the driver as you get on board.  Minimum purchase is £10 and you can buy both single and day tickets.  This is the Android version.  There's also a great app that lets you see how long you will have to wait for the next bus to turn up (although the same info is displayed on Tracker boards at many stops in the city centre).  Once again, here's the Android version.

If you're going to be here for five days or more it may be worth going into one of the Lothian Buses Travelshops and getting a Ridacard.  A seven day card costs £18, plus £3 for the card itself and having your photo taken.  For twenty eight days the charge is £54.  You can do the sums yourself.  It's the most hassle free way to travel, and you get to keep the card for your next visit (you'll be back).

And when you go to get the card remind yourself this isn't a passport - you're allowed to smile in your photo.

A couple of bits of bus etiquette.  Stick your hand out to get your bus to stop or you may see it fly past.  And the locals, well most of us, are in the habit of saying thanks to the driver as we get off.  It's just what we do here.  Join in.

AND FINALLY

Although your main reason for being here is to get to those shows, take a bit of time to find out why Edinburgh is a big tourist attraction throughout the year.

Stand at one of the junctions on George Street and look north to see the Forth glistening and hills of Fife in the distance.

Go and see the Floral Clock (on Princes Street, on the other side of The Mound from the Art Gallery).

Go up Calton Hill for the views (and to stand on the spot where TV journalists love to interview politicians), or climb up the steps inside the Scott Monument.

Walk down Victoria Street, that steep curving chunk of old architecture that seems to feature in every film drama set in the city.

Have fun.

Not the 2014 Review it should be

IT'S REVIEW TIME, ISN'T IT?

This is the time of year when world, dog, and dog's granny are all looking back at the preceding twelve months and attempting to crowbar some sense of order and narrative on to their own randomised lives and the mixed up storyline that is humanity.  And this isn't one of those.  It is, however, a review, even if a little on the late side.

Last year I posted a list of my favourite ten shows from the 2013 Edinburgh Fringe.  I did so about four weeks after my city had sighed it's relief at the annual ending of the world's largest arts festival.  Sufficient time had passed to give me some perspective on what I'd seen, near enough for it still to have some sense of relevance.

This year I had, really, intended to do the same.  But (insert your own choice of lame, half-arsed excuse here) and that's why it didn't get done at the time.  However, never let it be said I don't deliver eventually, despite my Adamsesque attitude to deadlines.  Better late than never?  Probably not, but here it is anyway.

As with last year's effort, I present these in no particular order.  We managed to see sixty shows in little more than three weeks, and trying to reduce that to a favoured ten was hard enough without trying to pretend that one was better than another.  I'll start with the acts who made this list last year.  There were six we saw again, three are back here this time, and I'll begin with the same man I did last September.

Cuckooed is a one man drama telling a tale of treachery, espionage, and the exercise of naked power.  It shows Britain's largest arms manufacturer, BAE, spying on a small group of activists who are trying to bring said company's disdain for human rights to the attention of a wider world.  The cuckoo in question is an old friend of most of the activists who has been bribed into betraying his fellows.  The one man telling the tale is, of course, Mark Thomas.  Which means that the show is slick, the narrative compelling and fast paced, the emotions often raw, and frequently hysterically funny.  Particularly mention has to be made of the staging, which sees various talking heads pop out of filing cabinets on screens to give their side of the story.  Very effective.  Thomas is an astonishing stage presence and never fails to be both informative and hilarious.

Jennifer Williams was one of my favourite discoveries of 2013 and she was back again with another one woman performance (assisted, in the background, by her brother providing music and sound) and another quirky story to tell.  The Cold Clear Elsewhere is based on factual events and tells of Grace, an Australian war bride, who married a British sailor, and eventually sailed half way across the world to start a new life with a man she could, by then, hardly remember.  With a few props Jennifer creates several scenes in differing places and times, her acting skills well up to playing a wide variety of characters along the way, yet never leaving the audience in doubt about who they were watching, or where, or when.  By the end it was hard to believe that an hour had passed, so absorbed had I been in the action.  It was a shame that this was probably the smallest audience I was part of all month, only just breaking double figures, and I hope she can find her way into a more central venue next year.

And finally, in my repeat trio, Mr Aidan Goatley.  Once again he performed 10 Films With My Dad, and my comments of last year still stand on second viewing.  There was also 11 Films to Happiness (there may be a theme here....) which was equally entertaining, silly, charming, funny and simply enjoyable.  Aidan is just such a lovely, lovely man that it's hard to imagine him not being fun to watch.

In "10 Films" Mr G has roped in a few of his mates to help with some of the cinematic sequences in his show, and we went to see one of said mates doing his own stand-up thing.  Oft times there can be a sense of disappointment at seeing a comedian live after seeing him or her on the telly.  This man had been on Mock the Week, but I wasn't going to hold that against him.  Romesh Ranganathan is Funny.  You know the kind of comedy where you come out unable to repeat a single joke and barely remember what it was all about, except that your chest hurts because there was hardly a second when you weren't laughing?  The sort of comedy where you have to remind yourself to keep breathing?  That's Mr R.

Oh, and he helped make my night, albeit indirectly. He asked me if I thought I was a good husband.  I suggested I wasn't the person to judge and that he ask Barbara sat next to me, so she was requested to give me marks out of ten.  And there am I thinking "Maybe a five?  A six would be good....".  And she say "Eight and half".  Eight and a bloody half!!  I'm still not sure what I've done to deserve anything that good, but I'm not about to forget it (or remind her when it seems 'appropriate').

Another stand up comedian, of sorts.  An American in a weird, scarlet, bulbous onesie who worked his audience into the act.  If you don't like participation then this wasn't for you.  It was teasing, testing, terrifying, timeless.  If at times it verged too far towards the simplistics of the Self Help 'Industry' it fully redeemed itself with the opportunities it provided for thought and the sheer funniness of the words and actions on stage.  The show is called Red Bastard and I will say no more, for it is something you have to experience to understand.  Would I go back?  Maybe....

Away from the stand up, but sticking with comedy, Austentatious is certainly an act you easily view several times, for every performance is different.  Six actors improvise a comedy drama based on title suggestions from the audience, all in the style of Jane Austen.  That could so easily go wrong, but these guys all know each other so well, and have such a great sense of timing, that the result is laughter making throughout (sometimes for the cast as much as the audience, the corpsing serving to make the performance even funnier).  I'll be back.

Another comedy drama, Spilt Decision, but scripted this time.  Partly in verse, which highlighted the unreality of the action and the satirical intent.  The characters portray a drunken husband, a domineering wife and a non-combatant marriage counsellor.  The battle lines are clearly drawn and the script, written by local comedian Keir McAllister, wears it's heart proudly on it's sleeve.  With the sharp end of that heart pointing strongly towards a Yes vote in the then upcoming Scottish Independence Referendum.  I can't tell you what it would have been like for a neutral, or even a No supporter, but they were preaching to the utterly converted in me and I enjoyed it hugely.

Three to go, and I'm going to cheat a wee bit.  This event was advertised in the Fringe programme, but was also selling tickets as an independent theatre event.  It was also held outside Edinburgh, in adjoining Musselburgh, so I'm stretching the definition a bit.  This was a last minute decision too.  We'd had tickets to see James Rhodes (one day, one day), but illness had forced him to cancel at short notice.  Was there a music gig that would replace it?  Cue mad phone calls to get tickets and we were off to the far East (Lothian) that evening.

It's been a few years since I last saw Blazin' Fiddles and the line up had changed considerably, but the format remains the same.  A rhythm section of guitar and keyboard, and four of Scotland's best fiddle players up front.  Some fabulous music, some terrible jokes and a lot of silliness.  Best of all, sheer energy coming off the stage and infecting the watching crowd.  The line up kept changing, with solos and duos and trios, and then the full band again.  There was virtuosity and sheer bloody joy out there.  Impossible to leave without a grin.

Even more of a cheat for this one, for two reasons.  The event was in the International Festival itself, not the Fringe.  And it was actually three events, but as an experience deserves to be treated as one.  You may have read about (or even seen) the James plays.  Three new works, each based on the lives of the first three kings of Scotland called James.  We saw all three in the one day, enjoying the sense of continuity and overriding narrative that opportunity provided.  All three made powerful individual statements, with James 1 the most complete as a drama, 2 it's slightly weaker cousin, and 3 falling somewhere in between.  The presentation of 3 in a more modern setting took some getting used to, and the first half was more 2 than 1 in dialogue quality.  But the second half saw Sofie Grabol, of Killing fame, deliver an astonishingly powerful and commanding performance which demanded that Scots and Scotland take a good hard look at themselves.  Historic, important, unforgettable.

And finally.  Not necessarily the funniest, or cleverest, or most dramatic show I saw, but perhaps the most memorable.  Have you ever heard of Tourettes Hero?  If not then shame on you, because you should.  Jess Thom has tourettes, which makes her say Biscuit rather more often than you'd hear it said after spending a day in McVities.  Penguins and hedgehogs feature on a regular basis.  And she hits her chest a lot.  All of this is, of course, involuntary and a by-product of her condition.  A much misunderstood condition and Jess has made it her role in life to dispel the myths and encourage understanding as much as one person can.  And she's very, very good at it.  So much so that she created a stage show to show to anyone who cared to come along to see what tourettes involved, how it affected her life, and just what an instinctively funny person she is.

The show was called Backstage in Biscuit Land and in it Jess, aided by an excellent actress also named Jess, tells us what having tourettes is like for her and those involved in her life, how the wider world sometimes reacts and what that feels like for her.  All the while making the whole explanation wildly entertaining.  Unpredictably so for all concerned because, as she explains at the start, her condition makes her incapable of sticking to a script, and some of the unplanned outbursts are even funnier than the original lines.  (Plus, at the show we were at, she had a couple of friends with tourettes in the audience, and one of them added some great punch lines of his own!)  Simply lovely.

And that's it, out of my system at last.  Still not sure how I've been forced to leave out Jo Caulfield, Chris Coltrane, The Nualas, Bruce Fummey....

Maybe next year I'll be back to doing this in September?

More Fringe stuff

LOOKING FOR THE BEST?

Aaaargh!  They played that bloody Sting song on the radio this morning.  But, fortunately, I suffered none of the flashbacks I feared when I wrote this post because there have been a few other distractions in the intervening eight days.  Like finally getting the flat into something like a liveable state after our move up here, having guests to stay over the weekend, and seeing a further seventeen Fringe shows.  We're not short of distractions.

If you're coming to The Fringe, or already here, you might read this hoping for some recommendations of what's best to go and see.  And I have a problem with that.  Partly because my tastes are eclectic and almost certainly very different to yours (you weirdo), and also not knowing what 'best' means.  We've seen stand up comedy, science based comedy, physical comedy, music, drama, a full blown musical and a couple of guys having a bit of a chat.  Which 'best' did you want from that lot?

There is one definition of best I could go with.  That's when the thing you're watching ends and you don't applaud because you're thinking "that couldn't have been sixty minutes".  Then you realise it was and you've just been so engrossed that time compressed.  If that's your idea of 'best' then I can give you a clear winner from the stuff we've seen so far.

If you read about my personal Top Ten from Fringe 2013 then the name Jennifer Williams might ring a bell. Wonderful last year, even better this time.  The Cold Clear Elsewhere tells the story of Australian war brides who came to the UK in 1946, a tale Williams makes far more interesting to watch than it might initially sound.  She plays Grace.  And Grace's best friend.  And her mother, and her husband, and his mother, and few others along the way.  With music and ambient sound provided by her brother, Jennifer makes smart use of a big space and carefully chosen props to take the audience through time and on a journey across the world.  She is funny, moving, pathetic, inspiring and coquettish.  It is a compelling performance with scene succeeding scene in rapid succession, but with no confusion as to time and place.  We might even go again when our next visitors turn up.

Other recommendations?  Go see the wonderful, hilarious, at-times-confessional, big softie bear that is Mr Aidan Goatley doing 11 Films to Happiness at Ciao Roma.  You will be amused, charmed, entertained and barely educated.  (Did I get that last bit right?)  Molland and Sullivan in the Beehive were laugh-a-second funny with a fine line in instant insults for audience members.  Possibly not the best choice for the shy and retiring.  Finally there is an odd comedy/lecture/art demo hybrid in the National gallery every Thursday.  Phill Jupitus shows off the copies he's made of paintings in the gallery, Hannah Gadsby (art expert and stand up comic) gives her, em, views on his efforts.  Some of his drawings are great.  And some are less than great.  You never know what's coming up next.

And then there was Red Bastard..... but that deserves a post of it's own.

That's it for now, there's another couple of shows awaiting our attention.  Barbara just suggested we have something she calls 'a day off'.  I think she must be talking about September.