Not so Clueless

 

SOME OF US DO HAVE A CLUE

Last night we were in a packed out Festival Theatre for a recording of a radio show. Which was something we hadn't done, at least for this particular show, for the best part of two decades.

The show, which goes out on BBC Radio 4, is called I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. It was the successor to the comedy I loved most from my childhood years, I'm Sorry, I'll Read That Again. But whereas ISIRTA was a sketch show, ISIHAC was conceived with laziness in mind, hence minimal need for a script. It was billed as "the antidote to panel games", and still is. The basic concept back then was unremitting silliness, and that proud tradition continues.

"back then" was 1972. Fifty two years and eighty one series later it is still going strong, and tickets for recordings of the shows sell out rapidly once announced. So we were lucky to be in the fourth row, with a fine view of what passes for the action.

The show format features a host, who doles out daft tasks to the four comedians on the panel. Also involved is the producer, and a pianist. Those tasks include things like singing one song to the tune of another, which is self explanatory, or Uxbridge English Dictionary where the panellists find new meanings for existing words. Singing often features, and the worse the singer the funnier.

For many years the show featured the late great Humphrey Lyttelton as it's chair, and his deadpan delivery was perfect for the role. Regular team members were Tim Brooke-Taylor, Graeme Garden (who had both been in ISIRTA), Barry Cryer and Willie Rushton. When Rushton died in 1996 his seat became a rotating guest spot.

I can't recall exactly when we went to our first recording, or how many we've been to. But it was certainly post-Willie, and before the turn of the century. Bradford was our baptism, with Sandi Toksvig in the guest seat that night. Over the years our attendance at shows crept over into double figures, and we travelled to Leeds, Harrogate, Halifax, and saw one in Southport where we lived. All of them featured the cast mentioned above, and an assortment of guests. All of them began with producer John Naismith coming out to explain what was about to happen for newcomers, and tell a few jokes to get the audience warmed up and volume levels established. His routine was much the same every time, including the jokes. And all of them featured Colin Sell on the piano, and regular target for Humph's jokes. Oh, and all of them featured the lovely Samantha...

For various reasons we never got to another recording after Humph died in 2008. So we had yet to see his eventual successor, Jack Dee, in action. (I did get in line for tickets in Preston early one morning, and lost out by 2 places in the queue...)

But here we were again. New chair. New panellists (all of the old regulars are now dead, except for Garden). There are no regulars on the teams now, but several people do tend to feature frequently, such as Tony Hawks. Not that he was there last night. We did get Rory Bremner, Pippa Evans, Milton Jones and Fred MacAulay. And some things hadn't changed. Out came a slightly greyer looking John Naismith, who at least had some new jokes, even if the rest of the patter was much the same. And at the ivories was Colin Sell. Now the target for Jack's abuse.

The show itself remains as it ever was. Silly. Hilariously silly. Much the same old games, the same old catch phrases, and the same need for audience participation to make the night what it should be. A show of hands revealed that over half the audience had never been to a recording before. So it was important that the old hands did their bit to lead when response was required.

And so we did. It might have been a nigh on twenty year gap, and the people on stage had changed, but it felt like it had only been a few weeks ago. Pavlov would have been proud of us. It was the best birthday present I could have had.

Pink cowboy hats helping the egg shaped ball

 

A PERSONAL THANK YOU TO FANS OF BEYONCE AND HARRY STYLES

BT Murrayfield has been taken over this weekend and last by the abovementioned pop singers and their gaudily dressed followers. Best avoided as far as I'm concerned.

But that doesn't stop me from being grateful to them all. Someone told me the prices of the cheapest tickets to go and see these events. Eye watering, especially for what they are. But so, so welcome. These people are handing over a lot of money to the SRU. The SRU fund Edinburgh Rugby. My 2023/24 season ticket for the Dam Health Stadium has not increased in price from last year. Because the SRU are raking in the dosh from other sources...

And for that I don't care how weirdly they want to dress, as long as they're handing over all that cash.

Back for some of the old normal

 

BUT... THERE'S GOING TO BE PEOPLE THERE...

Some readers will be aware that, pre covid, going to live entertainments played a big part in my life.  Music and comedy gigs, plays, sports events.  And that Barbara and I have been enthusiastic audience members at the Fringe for a few years now.  Then 2020 came and did it's thing.  My last experience of live music was on the eleventh of March last year.  I won't be able to say that for much longer.  Hopefully.  Maybe.  

There have been sports events with crowds recently.  There have been gatherings of one sort or another in streets and squares.  But there have also been lots of vaccinations, and the covid infection rate, after a surge upwards, appears to be in decline again.  Yet, despite regular trips to the shops, the idea of sitting down in a building with strangers feels ever so slightly weird.  This may be because I have been a fan of social distancing long before it became popular.  Because people.

My calendar tells me there are nine events booked for the rest of this year.  Four of those are carryovers, dates rearranged from one or more postponements last year.  Five I have booked recently.  Four in August, one next month in the Jazz and Blues Festival.  It feels like there should be more, and also that that's too many.  But there are Fringe tickets being made available next week, decisions to be made.  Book now, while there's availability, or wait until we see how we feel after our first gig?  

I already know the answer.  Unable to resist seeing what's on sale, my brain will say that we need to see her, we need to see him, that there are plenty of free days in August to fill.  That this is what we missed last year.

And that gig in less than three weeks from now will confirm I was right.  There will be people.  But there will also be guitar.  It's the music that counts.  Bring on the blues.

Digital derision points to uncertain future

CALENDAR CONTEMPT

Anyone else feel their calendar is laughing at them?  Back in the olden, pre-lockdown, days I could look at the weeks ahead and see what promises they held.  Science Festival events.  TradFest gigs.  Plays at the Traverse.  Matches at Murrayfield.  Some appointments and meetings related to my volunteering role.  Train times showing when I'd be on my own for a few days.  And then our world changed.

On the plus side, I suppose, a load of money winging its way back to my account, refunds for tickets I'll never use.  The biggest downside is a bit more obvious.  No live entertainment for ... however long it's going to take.  Be patient.  And the unexpected sideswipe of a calendar that mocks me, telling me about all the things I should have been going to see.  I could have deleted them, but they seemed to offer a form of measurement, watching how many events would pass before we could start booking again.  But that's about to end.  The final notification for the A Play, a Pie and a Pint series flicked up yesterday.  On Saturday week the last league game of the season, the big derby match against Glasgow, was due to be played.  And that's it.  At least my calendar can stop taking the piss after that.

Hardly a big deal, I know, but a trivial illustration of what so many are going through.  Packed diaries, be they for work, domestic or leisure purposes, rendered meaningless.  Replaced with Zoom meetings, Whatsapp calls, reminders to clap and bang pots, and a sudden fascination with parcel tracking numbers.  We have had to alter the patterns of our lives, lower expectations, recalibrate the meaning of achievement.  

Change.  That's all it is, some of it temporary, some of it more long term - and the uncertainty of not knowing which is which.  But human beings are good at change.  We can rationalise, replan, manage our lives and adapt.  There will be good things as well as bad to come out of this pandemic.  We can only hope that our political leaders, and wider society, are able to recognise and embrace the good, and not simply try to return to past practices because "that's how things were done".  

That sounded like an upbeat note to end on.  Then I remembered we still have Doris over us....  Oh well.

2018, not all bad

SOME BEST BITS

2018 - what was that all about, eh?  Probably not a year that history will look back on kindly.  The orange man-baby stayed in the White House, his behaviour becoming ever more bizarre and alarming.  At least the US has a constitution that manages to contain the worst excesses of the wannabe dictator, but has Brazil?  The election of a brutal, homophobic misogynist takes the Trump trend a dangerous step forward.  Meanwhile the UK does it's best to compete with America as leading international laughing stock as the farce of brexit continued to display the embarrassing incompetence of UKGov and aggressive vacuity of the brexshiteers.  Scotland remains in the grip of a regime for which it did not vote and dismisses every issue it raises, the union feels more broken by the day.  And if the far right is now a major threat to world stability it still takes place to the potential catastrophe of climate change - which brings us right back to the culpability of that corrupt crook in Washington....

So I'm going to indulge myself and look back at some personal highlight from a year that saw me go to 38 music gigs, 29 dramas or musicals, 27 comedy shows, 27 films on the big screen, and 1 poetry evening.  I like to keep busy.  And Edinburgh does insist on running all these festivals!  Oh, and I managed to get through 54 books.  So my way of having a more cheerful look at the recent 365 day period is to think back on what were my highlights in all that entertainment.  And maybe a couple of disappointments.

Starting with best new music discovery.  That one doesn't take a second's thought because The Kinnaris Quintet, first seen in February and again in November, could count me as a fan from their opening number.  Their first album, Free One, is superb and has had many plays Chez Crawford, they have stage presence to back up the musicianship and imagination of their arrangements, and a couple of brief chats suggest they're pretty nice people as well.  More in 2019 please.

Best play wasn't nearly as obvious, with some excellent candidates like McGonagall's Chronicles, Ken, Infinita and the surprising Sob Story.  But I'll go for Still Alice not just for the quality of the performances and the staging, but for tackling such a tricky subject so well.

My favourite film was one of only two documentaries I went to see.  But Nae Paseran! has characters, storyline, excitement, humour and pathos to match any drama, as well as an important political message.  Going back to my opening paragraph, this film is a powerful reminder than even small actions can have big consequences in the fight against the rise of neofascism.

I'd like to have chosen someone new to me for my favourite comedy act, but none really stand out in my memory.  Honourable mention to the very entertaining Iain F M Smith who I'd happily go to see again, but he's perhaps more storyteller than actual comedian.  So I'll go for the man who made me laugh like no other all year, the surreal ragdoll that is Dylan Moran.  I'll add a mention for two local acts that rival, when measured in chuckles, giggles and guffaws, the best the Fringe has to offer - Stu and Garry and Morrison/Sutherland that goes by the name of Fanny's Ahoy!.  Who needs the big names?

It's become our habit to leave the final day of the Fringe free of bookings, and go up to the Half Price Hut to choose a couple of random shows.  We ended with a musical called Trump'd which, sadly, was probably the biggest disappointment of our August.  But that was trumped by the most enjoyable surprising discovery of the year, Where the Hell is Bernard? performed by Haste Theatre Group.  Weird and wonderful and utterly memorable.  Still makes me laugh when I think of them going down the "escalator"....

My favourite read was by far the oldest text I tackled this year.  You know those books you buy and they go on the bookshelves waiting (and waiting and waiting) until the moment you feel ready to tackle them?  So it was with Don Quixote.  As with so many books pre-twentieth century it means persevering through the first thirty to fifty pages while your head adjusts to the author's mindset and language.  Once over that hump you're in a different world, surely a major objective in reading fiction.  The society described might be very different to our own, but the frailties, cruelties, kindnesses and love of humans are very familiar.  Plus it's laugh out loud funny at times.

Some oddities to end on.  Biggest disappointment of the year was the demise of my beloved Edinburgh Capitals.  No more hockey, for the moment, and much as I'm enjoying discovering the pleasures of rugby spectating it's still no real substitute for what was lost.

Best personal achievement was completing the fifteen and half miles of Kiltwalk  in what I felt was a respectable time for my advancing years.  Not just for managing the course, but the pleasures I got from the practice walks I went on and wearing a kilt after so many decades.

I'll end on the most special surprise of the year.  Going to see that lovely, lovely man Henry Normal and finding he'd written a poem for our 21st wedding anniversary.

Well done 2018.  There's always joy out there to be found, and sometimes it's in as simple as putting one foot in front of the other.  In a skirt.

Theatrespotting in Leith

LEITH THEATRE

33jpg

The recent news that Leith-born novelist Irvine Welsh will be the leading face of the project to restore Leith Theatre into becoming a working venue once again made me divert my steps that way to have another look at the neglected art deco building.

Hidden away behind the circularity of Leith Library it's not as immediately noticeable from the road, although you can see it quite clearly, beyond the grand mural, from North Junction Street.

The narrow curving driveway makes it hard to gain an overall impression of the place, and any building that's been in disuse since the eighties is going to be showing signs of neglect.

The back of the building can also provide hints as to how it must once have looked.

I have been to the adjoining Thomas Morton Hall a couple of times, for gigs from local musicians, and it's a pleasant enough space, but with a whiff of community centre about it.

The theatre itself is an altogether grander place inside, as the entrance and lobby hint at, and does get used for weddings.

There have been several attempts to get Leith Theatre working again over the past decades, but funding has always been an issue.  Here's hoping the support form one of the most famous living Leithers will provide the impetus to success this time around.  It would be a great boost to the area, could provide an alternative music venue at a time when such places are getting more scarce, and draw tourists down to somewhere in Leith other than the bloody Britannia, especially during the Fringe.  Even as it stands now it's worth a wee look if you're in the area.

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.

There's just a few days to wait

TOMORROW IT'S AUGUST IN EDINBURGH

And, in this household at least, that means one thing.  It's Fringe time.

Of course it isn't just the Fringe.  There's the International Festival.  The Art Festival.  The Book Festival.  The Festival of Politics.  The Tattoo.  But, mostly, it's the Fringe.

It's the Fringe that's largely responsible for the population of the city doubling for a while.  It's the Fringe that prevents you from walking down the Royal Mile with anything greater than mollusc momentum and emerging at the other end with enough flyers to paper your bedroom walls.  It's the Fringe that's putting on well over three thousand two hundred shows in hundreds of venues ranging from plush to slimey.  It's the Fringe that Edinburgh residents either love or hate.

And it's the high point of the city's festival season.  We went to a few gigs at TradFest in April and May.  Saw our fair share of new, and old, movies in FilmFest in June.  And, only a week ago today, rounded off a week and a bit of the Jazz and Blues Festival.  But none of them offer the variety and stamina challenge that awaits the dedicated Fringe goer.  Last year we saw sixty shows.  Last year we were knackered.  So if we make it to fifty this time that will be enough.  We're not getting any younger....

We have just over thirty shows booked so far, enough to be going on with.  I have a timetable set up, the tickets now reside in poly pockets (one pocket for each day of course), there's a list of other possibles waiting to fill in the gaps.  Past experience of these things (and having lots of time on my hands) tells me that this OCD level of preparation will be something I'm grateful for come the start of the the third week.  By then I'm starting to suffer from that dread condition known as "Fringe arse" from sitting in so many unforgiving seats, and I just want to know when and where the next show is.

Of course August is immediately followed by September, and in this household that too can only mean one thing.  It's ice hockey season.  But excitement at the prospect of seeing the new Caps line up take to the ice will have to be contained.  There's some serious Fringe going to get through first....

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.