Dublin Fringe Festival reviews.
Across the Road, Project Cube
*
Beware any production that offers its audience not so much a programme as an instruction manual. Scanning the lengthy synopsis and scene notes provided for Colin Gee's Across the Road, however, it is next to impossible to recognise the psychological short story it describes within his inscrutable, listless one-man performance. Anything can be forgiven in the name of experimentation, and while the one-time Cirque du Soleil clown is almost admirable in his disregard towards decipherability, the longer his pretentious verses drag on (think stream of consciousness by way of Dr Seuss) and the more he pursues an unvarying physical pattern (think body-popping slowed to a glacial pace) the more the exit sign seems to beckon. Illuminated only by static video projections, assisted only by Erin Gee's splintered composition, Gee seems to be crying out for the guidance, or restraint, of a director. Such are the hazards of experimentation and, in this one, Gee has simply discovered something that does not work. (Until tomorrow) - Peter Crawley
All Over Town, Project Cube
***
Part rite of passage, part travelogue, Phillip McMahon's new monologue play is at once breezily entertaining and a tad over familiar. Sean (Andrew Macklin) is frustrated with home, bored with the scene, and, at the wizened old age of 20, has apparently seen it all. But, after an obligatory stopover in Bangkok, a gay paradise named Sydney awaits him - before the plot demands an upheaval with an attendant modicum of self-knowledge. Macklin gives a fine performance in Darren Thornton's well-paced, slickly designed production. And though the plot pings between casual sex, drug binges and prostitution, McMahon - so protective of Sean he has even granted him a guardian angel - resists the urge to moralise. Having previously demonstrated a fascinatingly fresh perspective on Dublin, it's disappointing that McMahon's Sydney rarely gets beyond a tourist snapshot, and, similarly, his characters never seem fully realised. His eye for detail is strong, his way with words razor sharp, but every journey needs to plumb deeper than the surface. (Until tomorrow) - Peter Crawley
Anne Gildea Goes All the Way, Cobalt Cafe
***
Shooting out of the traps with some finely surreal observations on the perils of ageing, the benefits of listening to Enya (music to have a coma to) and the price of handbags, Anne Gildea cuts an initially charmingly scatty figure, convincing her audience that her highly-strung condition is due entirely to copious caffeine infusions. She thrives on taboo, describing herself, (as she sidles up to a piano) as "Tori Amos without the rape issues", but in an over-long routine that worships at the altar of Amy Winehouse and leans on a juvenile sense of the absurd for her "Celtic earth woman" routine, Anne Gildea doesn't so much go all the way as turn on her heels when she's half way there. Gildea's over-reliance on the songbook of Dr Seán Miller eventually slows her routine down to a leaden pace.
Initially deliciously hare-brained, but ultimately hand-wringingly irritating. (Until tomorrow) - Siobhán Long
The Babelfish Tartuffe, SS Michael and John
**
Is meaning over-rated? That is the question that underpins Mangiare's version of Molière's classic play, a version translated by the online Babelfish engine. Of course a computer's translation will be scientific, unable to pick up contexts or word play or rhyme. Cue a version of Tartuffe, then, that relies more on malapropisms than melodrama for its humour. However, any linguistic comedy is almost incomprehensible in the mouths of the heavily-accented international ensemble that director Jamie Carswell has assembled for his production. Set physical pieces are scattered throughout the fast-paced 60-minute piece to demonstrate the actors' evident skills, but there is no real commitment to non-verbal expression. Carswell's sudden and bizarre cameo at the end of the show makes this perfectly clear, as he recites an explanatory epilogue in perfect English to clear up the audience's confusion. So, is meaning, in fact, over-rated? Not in this case. No. (Until Sept 16) - Sara Keating
The Blue of the Night
***
Standing where Marlene Dietrich once sang Falling in Love Again, radio presenter Paul Herriott welcomed the audience to the Spiegeltent for a live broadcast of Lyric FM's The Blue of the Night show. A smoky, jazzy performance from the pianist and Mercury Prize nominee Joanna MacGregor and saxophonist Andy Sheppard opened the evening, peaking with MacGregor's invigorated playing during Piazzola's Libertango. The Phil Ware Trio followed with the doo-wap jazz vocals of Ian Shaw, who sang a variety of tunes, including Joni Mitchell's Talk to Me. Next came Colleen's viola da gamba and guitar which was layered with wind chimes and the sounds of a musical box to create beautiful, slightly distorted, lullabies. While the show was a bit long - nearly three hours - and a little disjointed in its overall theme, the fiery accordion, gliding and plucking strings of the quintet Lunfardia, the "masters of tango" from South America, made for an exhilarating end to the evening. - Sorcha Hamilton
La Casa Azul, Players Theatre
****
An empty frame hangs centre stage for much of this colourful play about the life of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. As the scenes move in and out of this frame, we are reminded of Kahlo's paintings - from the vibrant golds, reds and oranges of the costumes to the dreamlike, sometimes disjointed dialogue. Kahlo's obsession with self portrait is also echoed throughout, as she is seen in front and behind the frame, finally climbing through it. La Casa Azul - the name of Kahlo's "Blue House" where she lived and worked - explores the events behind the paintings: the serious injuries after a childhood accident; her devotion to revolutionary politics; her miscarriages; bisexuality and her tumultuous love affair with the famous muralist Diego Rivera.
While some scenes are a little overwrought, the strength of this play lies in the visual, ultimately making it an homage to the work of this sad, troubled artist who lived "in the shadow of a genius". (Until Sept 16) - Sorcha Hamilton
Gerry and the Peace Process, Players Theatre
****
Musical theatre meets political satire in this resourceful production by Volta. Written by Liam Houricane and David Crann, it traces the progress of Gerry Adams's political career; his conversion from hard-core republicanism to democratic politics; from political violence to more holistic principles of mediation. Featuring lead solos from Adams himself (Houricane), and his house-keeper Martin McGuinness (Sean Duggan), the performance is structured around reworked versions of popular songs from established musicals.
The big ensemble numbers prove the greatest hits, thanks to cameos by Mary Lou McDonald, David Trimble, and Jeffrey Donaldson, among others, and the appearance of Ian Paisley in larger-than-life-size puppet form. The impersonations are so good they are visually uncanny at times, while the humour is incisive. The only thing limiting this production, in fact, is its budget.
With proper technical resources, and extra rehearsal time, Gerry Adams and the Peace Process could be a viable, if unlikely, mainstream success. (Until Sept 16) - Sara Keating
Hairy Bottom and the Jock Strap of Destiny, International Bar
***
Simon Toal and Robert Murtagh, the men behind Hairy Bottom, are apparently fans of Monty Python. Apart from the outlandish show title, they make it their mission to provide audiences with something completely different.
Hairy Bottom comprises a series of sketches and slapstick skits, featuring a motley cast of characters in bizarre scenarios. The duo go in for audience participation in a big way. An Elvis-style singer flails his limbs in the faces of his audience while Hans Blix performs magic tricks while discussing international affairs.
The sketches are interspersed with short films, which lack the punch of the physical sketches. A "documentary" about the making of a gay porn flick is flaccid and unfunny. Elsewhere, the jokes come thick and fast: one number about Lyons Tea would make a dead man giggle - and what more could anyone ask from a show with "jock strap of destiny" in its title? (Until Sept 23) - Denis Clifford
The Miser, James Joyce Centre
*****
Quite simply superb! Witty, wonderful, Wonderland. I had not seen a performance by Wonderland Productions before, though they have been in existence since 2003, nor have I come across a more promising or talented young company since the debut years of Rough Magic. A late beginning - scheduled to start at 6.45pm it did not do so until 7pm - did not augur well, but that was soon forgotten as venue, performance, pace, writing, and costumes wed into an intoxicating mix of what is probably Molière's best farce. Translated, written, and directed by the clearly multi-talented Alice Coghlan, it has been updated to Georgian Dublin (of the 1770s) with strong resonances for today. Martin Phillips is utterly unsympathetic as Harpagon, as he should be, and I single him out only because he was the lead. There was not a weak link in this excellent cast. I just hope that when the Fringe festival ends this production finds home at a larger venue. It deserves to. (Until Sept 23 ). - Patsy McGarry
Mobile
***
This would have been twice the show if it was half the length. A two-act monologue clocking in 90 minutes-plus has to have a very strong script to carry the show, and Mobile, written and performed by Michael Collins as Peter, is not that script. The mobile of the title is both a caravan and a phone, and at regular intervals, Peter's mobile goes off with its Crazy Frog ringtone, as he is summoned to play an unwilling part in an honour fight against his best friend and cousin. Instead of focusing on the flagged central theme of internal feuding between Traveller families, the script diverts to name-check a whole range of social issues which involve the uneasy relationship between Travellers and the wider community. The unfortunate result is that the evening becomes little more than a monologue tick-list of all-too familiar cant, including the line: "There's one law for the settled people and another for Travellers". There is a real feeling of missed opportunity here for a piece of important theatre which could, and should, have been far more powerful. (Until Sept 23) - Rosita Boland
The Red Thread, Project Cube
***
Intriguing, even haunting, video images of a red dress, billowing and skittering around a large empty room as if propelled into dance by a gust of wind make up the final memorable sequence of this lunchtime dance theatre performance. It's worth the wait.
However, the path taken by dancer/ choreographer Ayeesha Mailey of Echo Echo Dance Theatre to reach the conclusion, is not as intriguing. She is clearly the red thread, a strong performing presence in scarlet, but she uses distancing text and technology more often than involving movement. This seems to be as deliberate as the forced, larger-than-life personality she consciously assumes to engage the audience, but the intention is somewhat obscured. There is enough unravelling to suspect a submerged secret occasionally coming up for air and this pathos, delicately intimated in word and gesture, is way more tantalising than the rest. (Until tomorrow) - Seona Mac Réamoinn
Score, Project Upstairs
***
The literal translation of this work - Terre d'Arène - isn't Score, but that's a more apt title with its nod to sport and music. Although dubbed an exploration of sport that is full of drama, Score is little more than a sequence of interactive homemade props that create a sound score to accompany the action. Wrestlers are covered in double-sided sticky tape and lock bodies, while tennis players swish loose-strung racquets, every prop's movement creating a sound that is woven into snatches of three-part song. In this digital age the immediacy of seeing movement-producing sound is refreshingly Galilean and occasional streaks of ingenuity occur on the stage, lined with multi-coloured tape gym floor.
Ultimately it falls victim to stereotype, with pouting horse-riders and snarling tennis players and however charming the inventiveness, the dramatic tessitura is as flat as a nil-all draw. (Until tomorrow) - Michael Seaver
Simple Girl, Project Cube
***
With the deceptively soothing voice of a yoga instructor, "Simple Girl" and performance artist Melanie Wilson spins noir-ish tales about secretive goings-on in iconic European cities. Interspersed with self-conscious and revealingly insecure, needy admissions, performed to starker lighting, about a lonelier life outside of fantasy, the narrative indicates that things aren't quite as simple as the title would have you believe. Written also by Wilson, the production includes her own sound design, which is quite as witty as her assured performance, which she delivers with silkily understated flair. "You never travel anywhere without your cheese wire," she purrs on the Istanbul train, "especially on the Continent". Later, in reality mode, she corners an audience member: "You didn't have to say you didn't fancy me - you could have said you were a recovering sex addict and didn't want to upset your 12-point programme." How much does she really know about "savage love"? (Runs until tomorrow) - Christine Madden
