Fringe Theatre reviews: Something to Believe In

Sarah Alice Shull in Something to Believe In | Contributed

By The Newsroom

Published 13th Aug 2024, 15:14 BST

THEATRE

Something to Believe In ★★★★

theSpace on the Mile (Venue 39) until 24 August

She’s a chatty Catholic schoolgirl, precociously all-American, witty and funny, silly and entertaining. The crowd of a camp men who are in today are loving it, so much that they’re missing some of the more sensitive moments because they’re so busy preparing to shriek every time she starts practicing her “choreo”. It’s like they got very got lost on their way to Royal Vauxhall Tavern, London, and ended up at the Radisson Hotel, Edinburgh, one of the most unusual Fringe venues, when you think about it, which has, over the years, launched the careers of many wonderful new artists and companies. “A sacred space,” as writer and performer Sarah Alice Shull aptly puts it, in her semi-autobiographical one-woman show. Punching through time, she plays herself at the ages of “10, 12, 17, and now.” And with a snap of her head, a smile or a frown she skilfully interacts with or (when necessary) shuts up the over-excitable crowd.

The writing is witty, the character adorable. Like a young Ruby Wax, she playfully comments on herself, friends, teachers and the church. She wants to do a speech for graduation day, not because she’s committed to her faith, but simply because she loves talking. A rattling narration interspersed with observational comic asides paints the light and dark of the school, with its bake sales, confessions and musical theatre, no sex before marriage and, in one disturbing school assembly, attempted indoctrination.

At the sacred heart of the piece is a critique of rigid interpretations of Catholicism and its effects through US history, including in relation to anti-abortion lobbyists and the civil rights movement, as well as an attempt to reconcile this with her sexuality as a girl who likes girls. “Jesus was cool,” she concludes, “he wouldn’t care if we were all banging each other in Ugg boots.” Sally Stott

THEATRE

The Red Room ★★★★

Greenside @ Riddles Court (Venue 16) until 17 August

When HG Wells first published his gothic short story The Red Room in 1894, he must have scared his readers half to death. In these cynical modern times, we’re far less susceptible to tales of ghoulish hauntings, but a good ghost story can still set the heart racing. This stage adaptation by Midlands-based Mint Theatre Society does an excellent job of bringing Wells’s characters to life, and evoking exactly the right air of tension.

In the original tale, we find an arrogant young man keen to disprove rumours that the red room in Lorraine Castle is haunted. The three infirm custodians who reside in the castle deem him idiotic for wanting to spend a night in there, refusing to even show him to its door. In this well-paced solo show, the lead role has been changed to a woman, performed here by superb actress, Ellie Ball. She takes on all four parts, using a simple scarf and believable dialects to indicate the shift between characters.

With candlelight playing a key role in the original story, it’s also used to good effect here. Carrying a small lantern, Ball makes her way through the castle to the eponymous quarters, gently illuminating the small theatrical space. A minimal set comprising a tall mirror, table and decanter is enough to set the scene, and Ball does the rest with her descriptive text, building Lorraine Castle in our minds. Before attempting to settle down for the night, she recalls previous so-called ghost sightings in the room, building our apprehension nicely.

As well as giving his readers a good scare, Wells also wanted to illustrate that often, the only thing to fear is fear itself. That message comes across here, but not before we’ve become so swept up in the drama, we’ll believe just about anything. Kelly Apter

THEATRE

Lobster Bisque ★★★★

C ARTS / C Venues / C alto (Venue 40) until 25 August

Lobster Bisque could be the lovechild of a Jane Austen novel and a Roald Dahl short story. Created by Brilliant at Breakfast (the company name derives from a 1946 collection of witticisms by Oscar Wilde), the piece is written in the tenor of a classic English farce, and it is deliciously, deliriously funny. At first glance, a dark stage appears to feature little more than a dining table and dust sheets, but the space is quickly transformed into a decadent, dilapidated Victorian mansion.

Two performers (Witt Tarantino and Emma Creaner) are preparing for a dinner party. Aided by a quirky cast of mechanical puppets, they are at once the hosts, the guests, the chef, and the maid. When said maid accidentally knocks noxious liquid into the starter – the eponymous Lobster Bisque – jeopardy becomes an uninvited yet palpable presence at the table.

A chain reaction is initiated, revealing the crossed wires and love affairs that have, until now, throbbed unspoken in the shadows with the dust sheets. There is something teasing about its structure: the play is endlessly naughty and enticing, and the story undresses itself in a manner that is almost burlesque.

Oversized paper maché masks, traditional Punch and Judy-style set-pieces, miniature shadow puppets and tear-away tapestries all work to evoke the exchanges that occur between each character. The bisque bubbles merrily at the centre of their scene, all burnt-orange, Le Creuset innocence. Meanwhile, the action becomes increasingly urgent and ever saucier.

To call Tarantino and Creaner extraordinary would be something of a slight: the compliment seems too small to contain them. It is their chemistry that makes Lobster Bisque into the tasting menu of moments that it is. At the 50th minute, when the final beat is served, you’ll be begging them to go back to the first bite again. Josephine Balfour-Oatts

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THEATRE

Boiler Room Six: A Titanic Story ★★★

Greenside @ George Street (Venue 236) until 24 August

In this post-catastrophe analysis of the sinking of the Titanic, filled with soot, sweat and steel as much as water, Max Beken is less Leonardo DiCaprio than Cillian Murphy, shovelling coal in the flames of the Six Section boiler room. Tom Foreman’s immersive monologue, which is based on the real-life experiences of his grandfather, Frederick Barrett, resurrects the characters, the class divides and, most successfully, the anatomy of the ship. Beken is an unselfconsciously charismatic performer who, directed by Foreman, tells of the heat and the horror of Barrett’s job. As spoken architecture, it’s brilliant – and makes a linear story spatial.

Poetic narration is paired with industrial engineering, as Barrett takes us through the depths of a boat that was, famously, “unsinkable”, as the hatches are shut, men die, the ship breaks and sea slices through the living quarters. It’s a piece doesn’t stray beyond the format of charting the well-documented catastrophe. But as Barrett rises through the layers of this floating hierarchy, to take his first and last look of the famous ballroom, it’s a haunting moment, before the lifeboats are lowered, the band begins to play, and a new divide occurs: those who will live and those who will die. Sally Stott

THEATRE

James Whale: Beyond Frankenstein ★★★

ZOO Southside (Venue 82) until 25 August

This admirably comprehensive biography of James Whale, the dapper English director who brought Karloff’s Frankenstein to life, is a technical feat that would likely have impressed its subject. Writer-performer Tim Larkfield employs an ambitious collage-like structure as his narrative skips back and forth in time like a Christopher Nolan screenplay. Larkfield himself slips in and out of over 20 different roles as he recreates scenes from Whale’s films and important figures in his life. This does result in the occasionally cheesy line – “Hi, I’m Carl… Carl Laemmle Jr!” – but it also allows Larkfield to showcase his gifts for mimicry of old movie stars (his Colin Clive is excellent, incidentally).

Evocatively lit and with an impressively detailed sound design, this doesn’t appear to reach for the wider appeal of Gods and Monsters, the 1998 biopic of Whale. Larkfield prefers to stick to the known facts. That Whale was openly, happily gay in 1930s Hollywood with no detriment to his career is notable. But there are indications that his time spent in a first world war German prison might have been the most formative period of his life and that is left unexplored. If there’s a sadness here it’s buried deep – as it was in Whale himself, you suspect. Rory Ford

THEATRE

If I Only Could ★★

theSpace on the Mile – Space 2 (Venue 39) until 24 August

The idea is intriguing: when one sister dies unexpectedly, the other imagines her experience in purgatory and how she bargains with God to be resurrected. While the subject matter could go in either direction tonally – there’s a whole gamut, from Groundhog Day to Orpheus and Eurydice – If I Only Could unfortunately spreads itself too thin between these two poles. The leads, Sophie Vincent and Nell Amari, shine as bickering siblings, but we don’t have time to get properly invested in them as individuals. The talent, energy and concept are all there: right now, the end result is just a little too emotionally incohesive. Ariane Branigan

Edinburgh Fringe Theatre reviews: Something to Believe In | The Red Room | Lobster Bisque | Boiler Room Six: A Titanic Story | James Whale: Beyond Frankenstein | If I Only Could

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