Graham Chapman attempting to enter Heaven but finding he has to justify his admittance to a jobsworth in a flat cap by telling the Pythons’ story. From the team’s beginnings – when Chapman, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Michael Palin and Terry Jones met as Oxbridge graduates – through TV’s Flying Circus (when animator Terry Gilliam came on board) and four film outings, to its end (when Chapman died in 1989), the tale is ingeniously told using re-jigged versions of the team’s famous sketches: Cheese Shop, Parrot, Nudge-Nudge, Lumberjack, etc. Similarly, the comic personas of the performers are used to further the story, so that, for instance, notoriously irritating motor-mouth Idle fast-talks his way through great swathes of Python history in record time. Playing the seven Pythons between them, the cast of four are spot on with their impersonations in a show that really captures the anarchic spirit of its subject. (Miles Fielder) ■ Udderbelly’s Pasture, 0844 545 8252, until 31 Aug, 12.45pm, £10–£12.50 (£8–£10.50).
POWER PLANT Hallucinogenic sound and light display at the Botanics ●●●●●
Even without special effects, the greenhouses at the Royal Botanic Gardens are among the most magical spaces in Edinburgh, and however badly the organisers of this show had mangled their work they’d have had a difficult job to spoil the surreal and fantastic jungles that are the base material for Power Plant.
In the event, they haven’t mangled their work at all, and the sounds and lights add to the viewing, smelling, touching experience rather than intruding. Unlike the structured, carefully plotted storylines of most of the shows these visitors have seen, the directive here is to wander at your own pace, take detours, stroke plants, and be mesmerised. Power Plant is an exhibition as well
as an ‘experience’ and the light sculptures and installations have names and artists attached, but the sheer fascination of shafts of light fanning out between the fronds of a leaf, or tiny lights clicking like insects
through the branches of a tree, is enough to override any oppressive sense of authorship. Think of it as enhancement rather than complete tree-surgical reconstruction, and for optimum viewing experience take drugs or a lover. (Lizzie Mitchell) ■ Royal Botanic Gardens, 623 3030, until 30 Aug (not 24), 9.30pm, £10 (£8). for GLASGOW THEATRE see non-Festival magazine
Festival Theatre
Telephone Booking Fringe 0131 226 0000 International Festival 0131 473 2000 Book Festival 0845 373 5888 Art Festival 07500 461 332 PRIVATE PEACEFUL All’s not fair in love and war ●●●●●
This one-man show, performed by Finn Hanlon and adapted by director Simon Reade from Michael Morpurgo’s novel, questions why over 300 British soldiers were executed for perceived cowardliness or desertion during World War I, through the character of an underage soldier as he waits to be shot at dawn. Hanlon triumphs as Private ‘Tommo’
Peaceful, gently juxtaposing the grim reality of life on the front line with his quiet childhood in Devon. But as he relives the important events of the past 18 years, such as the sudden death of his father, and his only unrequited love, his thoughts soon turn to the actions of his cruel and inexperienced superiors as the clock edges ever closer to 6am.
Time is the driving force of the play, as each minute becomes more desperate; the anger of the piece erupts onto the stage as the sense of injustice at the futility and the very real tragedy of Peaceful’s situation becomes all too real. Expertly presented and impeccably rehearsed, this production finally gives those condemned and forgotten a voice. (Amy Taylor) ■ Udderbelly’s Pasture, 0844 545 8252, until 30 Aug, 2pm, £11–£12 (£9–£10).
PYTHONESQUE And now for something completely different ●●●●●
PRECIOUS LITTLE TALENT No slight return from award-winning playwright ●●●●●
After last year’s award-winning Eight – which has since played to acclaim in London and New York – emerging playwright Ella Hickson returns with a truly lovely piece of theatre, one that proves she can write dialogue as confidently as she mastered the monologue form. Precious Little Talent is not snappy or witty, but it is richly evocative and occasionally comic, seamlessly integrating a love story with its representation of strained family ties and the general despair with which many of today’s graduates (of whom Hickson is one) are confronting the recession-soaked world.
After losing her job in a bar, English Joey goes to New York in search of her estranged father, George. There she meets 19-year-old, wide-eyed Sam, who confronts her disillusionment with his quintessentially American brand of undying optimism. Crucially, the play is set in that euphoric post-Obama election, pre-inauguration period, and there’s an unashamed sweetness about it that
wholly befits its Yuletide backdrop.
Hickson’s blissful writing comes to life with the help of skilful acting from Emma Hiddleston’s sarcastic, Topshop-clad Joey and Simon Ginty’s winning turn as Sam. But it’s John McColl’s portrayal of George, slowly slipping into dementia, that is the true highlight of Precious Little Talent. His wonderful performance, subtle yet strongly emotional, memorably highlights the poignancy of small moments, like attempting to shave or playing Trivial Pursuit, and positions this former journalist as a new and impressive acting talent.
Essentially, it’s the juxtaposition of George’s
helpless situation with Joey’s apathetic attitude that underpins the playwright’s message. As she so charmingly puts it: ‘Weigh your present against the dreams you had as a child, and woe betide the man who falls short.’ If she continues to produce such sophisticated and eloquent work, it’s unlikely Hickson will have the same regrets when old age comes calling. (Yasmin Sulaiman) ■ Bedlam Theatre, 225 9893, until 29 Aug (not 23), 2.30pm, £8.50 (£6.50).
This superb celebration of the great surrealist-absurdist comedy troupe is so much more than a straightforward homage to Monty Python. Aptly named playwright Roy Smiles has constructed a very clever narrative that’s playfully self-referential, loaded with in-jokes, and absolutely hilarious. The show’s very Pythonesque
conceit focuses on recently deceased
68 THE LIST FESTIVAL MAGAZINE 20–27 Aug 2009