Fringe theatre reviews: Faye's Red Lines | Out of the Box | Tree of Dreams + more
A fresh batch of Fringe theatre reviews offers something for all ages and interests.
Faye's Red Lines starring Gail Watson ★★★★
Braeburn at Gilded Balloon at Appleton Tower (Venue 140) until 23 August
After a tumultuous early life, Faye (Gail Watson) is working hard to maintain a semblance of control: making cold calls, drinking white wine alone in her local pub, using Facebook to stalk the son she walked out on when he was just three months old… As her troubled present blends with her unhappy past, Watson paints a compelling picture of a deeply flawed but still sympathetic character who is trying her best with the life she’s been given.
Although Faye’s Red Lines can be amusing at times - especially for Edinburgh locals, who will appreciate the good-natured ribbing of various neighbourhoods - its classification in the Fringe catalogue as theatre, not comedy, is entirely appropriate. Faye may initially chat to us with a confessional, expansive air, but the mood quickly turns sour. Venturing deeper into her history, her one-liners and off-the-cuff remarks are as likely to elicit horrified groans as chuckles. The emotional denouement of the performance is a charged confrontation between her and her estranged son: despite this being a one-woman show, Watson reacts to the son’s distress and hostility so effectively that we feel like he’s in the room. In another scene depicting Faye’s violent father and manipulative mother, Watson bounces between the pair with such skill that the tension in the air is palpable.
The show is trying to cover an awful lot of ground - it’s tricky to condense a life into an hour, especially one as chaotic as Faye’s - but mostly succeeds in doing so. It’s the ending, which, while uplifting, feels a little shoehorned in - Watson’s masterful characterisation, not the coherence of the individual scenes, is what convinces us to root for Faye. Instead of dwelling on some structural shortcomings, we’re too busy revelling in her hard-won success.
Ariane Branigan
Out of the Box ★★★★
Underbelly Bristo Square (Venue 302) until 25 August
What an utterly absorbing, charming and great fun show this is, which benefited from the helpful onstage involvement of a very cute and eager pre-school child at one point during the performance I saw. Yet most of the audience in the house were adults, and that made absolutely no difference to the innocent, open-hearted fun experienced by all.
There’s an old-fashioned variety show air to Darryl J Carrington’s nevertheless novel, modern clowning and juggling performance, from his bumbling, mute persona to the way he expertly commandeers his audience for various participatory skits. As a long-time avoider of audience participation, who nevertheless was dragged up with a couple of other guys to first play a trio of hapless ‘bridesmaids’, then to race through finding the end of a roll of sellotape to help wrap a parcel, the whole thing was made to feel safe and enjoyable.
We weren’t alone. The majority of a crowd of maybe twenty – although Carrington deserves so many more – were press-ganged into service at some point, bringing a real sense of joy and solidarity to the room. Nothing at all fell flat, but the setpiece where two women were detailed to make a cup of tea using only their heads was a spectacularly well-worked and trusting piece of physical stage comedy. A theatrical skill of its own, his crowd control is sublime.
Carrington broke his silence once the show proper had ended, to express his gratitude to all for coming and his joy at being able to spread laughter in such dark times. “You were really brilliant, mate,” called out a happy man in the front row, a fellow audience participant, unprompted. It’s hard to disagree. This is Carrington’s first Fringe appearance on a stage at one of the big four venues, and his reputation only deserves to grow from here.
David Pollock
Tree of Dreams ★★★
Gilded Balloon at Appleton Tower (Venue 140) until 23 August
Who knew you could feel empathy for a wooden peg? In Tree of Dreams, Canadian singer-songwriter Duane Forrest’s earnest acoustic guitar playing and vocals overlay vignettes created by two puppeteers and a camera operator. Through shadow work, projection, and simple object manipulation, mirrored balls become the eyes of mystical creatures, and bowls of sugary cereal transform into snowy vistas, telling the story of “the child” (the peg) as he navigates unstable family dynamics, heartbreak, and encounters a magical tree that urges him not to give up on his dreams.
It’s rough around the edges. Forrest stumbles over the script, the puppeteers exchange uncertain glances, and the confined space often leaves the performers blocking the illusions they create on the back wall. There’s confusion about the intended audience too. Billed as suitable for children aged 8+, its non-linear narrative—jumping from the child chatting with a mystical bee about the multiverse, to nearly drowning at a pool party, to suddenly being in an Italian class—proves confusing even for older viewers. In turn, the whimsical tone and well-intentioned meditations on the meaning of life can at times feel saccharine for an adult audience.
Yet, there’s a charm to the simplicity of Tree of Dreams’ setup, which quaintly evokes the traditions of oral poetry and folk storytelling. This is a show that will likely improve with time.
Emily May
Best Worst Advice ★★★
Greenside @ George St (Venue 236) until 23 August
In Best Worst Advice, three Best Worst Operators showcase the world’s first hotline that responds to its callers (that is, the audience) using dance and movement. Every gesture is a suggestion, and routines are layered with unorthodox commentary. The safe word, we’re told, is ‘banana’. This piece is rough around the edges, imperfect, just as the ‘best worst’ element of the title suggests. There is no strict choreography involved, rather the dancers appear to be moving intuitively.
“Did I hear this phone ring for you?” the Operators say, passing a corded telephone into the hands of their callers. One can ask whatever one pleases, and the troupe improvises their response. One can even connect with other audience members, throughout.
“How can I buy a house in this terrible housing market?” One member of the audience asks. “Have you considered joining a cult?” an Operator smoothly replies. When the hotline closes, the company retraces the action over and again, a decision which seems curious and uncalled for. But if you have a vexing problem, a burning question, or a question you want to pop, this show holds the best-worst answers for you.
Josephine Balfour-Oatts
There’s Something Seriously Wrong With Cyrus ★★
The Penny at Gilded Balloon Patter House (Venue 24) until 25 August
In his autobiographical play, American actor Cyrus Deboo revisits his upbringing as the queer, mixed-race son of immigrant parents, and his escape from their immovable expectations that he becomes a lawyer or doctor. Familiar beats are all in place: tentative self-discovery, psychological distance and eventually, the slow drift toward acceptance.
The most compelling moments are rooted in his family dynamics, the aunts and cousins who offer quiet refuge, the accidental role models whose warmth offsets the chill elsewhere. Too often, though, the piece remains surface level, without much offering for the audience. Deboo is engaging but the show feels more like a personal victory lap than a shared journey.
Alexander Cohen
Odds Are ★★
Roxyboxy at Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 25 August
The sentiment is stronger than the storytelling in this autobiographical one-woman melodrama about the tender tribulations of pregnancy. Smita Russell writes and performs delivering her story from a place of unflinching warmth, but as a concrete piece of theatre it crumbles. The narrative lacks sufficient structure to keep us fully engaged, and as a result, the emotional beats land flatter than they should.
Russell uses statistics as a framing device: what are the odds that she would spot Anne Hathaway in the street just hours after watching a film she starred in, or that her downstairs neighbour would suffer from the same rare pregnancy related condition that she has?
Her sorrow does resonate, and if you squint, there’s an admirable message about coming to terms with rarity, coincidences, and the love that fills the gaps left by grief that could be drawn out with development. But as it stands this is another case of theatre as therapy. Fine for the Russell – but what are the audience left with?
Alexander Cohen
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