FESTIVAL THEATRE | Reviews
LEMONS, LEMONS, LEMONS, LEMONS, LEMONS Intelligent, confident and beautifully formed piece of theatrical metaphor ●●●●●
As Nick Watts explains in his 2007 documentary The Human Footprint, an average person will speak around 123,205,750 words in their lifetime. Lemons, Lemons, Lemons, Lemons, Lemons, a new play by Sam Steiner, imagines a world in which legislation will limit people to around 140 words per day.
This Orwellian counteraction to mass-media culture, the ‘hush law’ as it is called, looms large over the still-young relationship of lawyer Bernadette (Beth Holmes) and musician-activist Oliver (Euan Kitson), as they face the prospect of being together under these new and uncertain conditions. Steiner’s script takes an evident pleasure in the miscommunication of its characters. Playing it for laughs, the language of couples is compared to a cheese grater, while a pre-word limit relationship ‘exorcism’ designed to air any unspoken grievances is emotionally searing.
The strength of Walrus Theatre’s production lies in its
characters, both of whom are given excellently observed and suitably understated performances by Holmes and Kitson. This subtle but effective production directed by Ed Franklin holds its characters in perpetual orbit around each other with a geometrically exact staging. Steiner deftly weaves themes of anxiety, power, and status throughout the play with devastating effect. Most notably, at the end of each day, Bernadette and Oliver recite how many words they have left for each other, daring it not to sound like a quantified sum of their love for one another.
Lemons . . . is theatrical metaphor worked on to an intricate
degree, a love story made beautiful through a contorted paradox of communication: the more we speak, the less we really say. (Elliot Roberts) ■ Zoo Southside, 662 6892, until 22 Aug, 4pm, £9 (£7).
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GIRL FROM NOWHERE Powerful and poignant rock drama ●●●●●
THE EULOGY OF TOBY PEACH Cancer survival tale stranded between comedy and drama ●●●●● OH HELLO! A Carry On legend remembered in one-man monologue ●●●●●
A powerful new drama delivered with vigour and energy, Girl from Nowhere hits the ground running and packs a hell of a punch along the way. Disgraced rock singer Jeannie tells her story alone in a room in her parents’ house. Having escaped from her oppressive family in small-town Texas to follow her dream of being a singer, she finds success as a musician. But a life-changing event finds her returning, disgraced, to her home town.
Juxtaposing the stifling atmosphere of small- town America that Jeannie was desperate to escape with the exuberant freedom of life on the road, this is an hour-long emotional rollercoaster packed with passion, ambition and shattering revelations.
Jeannie’s story is complex and emotive, but the occasional interludes of music and song are so tightly woven into the drama that it feels more like the rock biopic of a music heroine than a Fringe drama.
Powerful and poignant, this will appeal to music fans and drama lovers alike. Expects some twists and listen out, because this girl has a hell of a voice. (Jen Bowden) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 31 Aug, 12.45pm, £9.50–£11 (£8.50–£10).
88 THE LIST FESTIVAL 13–20 Aug 2015
Toby Peach had cancer. Diagnosed aged 20, this is his tale of how he joined the exclusive Cancer Club and what exactly that meant for him. Six years later, he’s delivering his eulogy, using everything from chemotherapy cocktail mixing to facts, figures, relapse and remission to tell his story. Energetic and interesting, Toby delivers the facts among a barrage of anecdotes, jokes and songs. It’s easy to forget among the laughter and jollity that underneath is a serious story about one man’s battle with a deadly disease.
It’s difficult to decide whether this is meant to be taken as a drama or a comedy, there are plenty of laughs and the sketches are clearly meant to lighten the seriousness of Toby’s story. But the comedy is hammy and overacted, and melodrama outweighs the real drama, with a couple of beautifully poignant moments lost among the raucousness of the rest.
Hats off to Toby for tackling a tricky topic. His
energy does a good job of lifting the spirits, but a little more emphasis on the more reflective moments would have made it far more impressive. (Jen Bowden) ■ Underbelly Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 30 Aug (not 17), 2.50pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).
Charles Hawtrey is disgusted, as he’ll tell anyone who will listen. He’s not getting top billing in the forthcoming Carry On film. Nobody’s listening any more. Mother’s gone and erstwhile-friend Kenneth Williams is a sour rival. Something to do with sexual jealousy over a props boy. Dave Ainsworth’s wise, cyclical script, performed
with waspish glee by Jamie Rees, is a small still thing, curdled with resentment, as Rees brings blood to what could have been mere impersonation. The audience are his confidante, as he gossips and cackles, with only his euphemistic ‘lemonade’ (booze) and memories of a once-stellar career. He talks of indiscretions with younger men, cackling at repressed co-star Williams, who is getting the work he has turned down. ‘Williams? He runs orf to Morocco whenever he gets an erection’. Rees is hilarious, whether in arch diva mode, or petulant as a small boy. The many contradictions that were Hawtrey are laid out in the very first scene. He flounces towards the audience, sits down, and whispers ‘What are we watching?’ Even he doesn’t know. (Lorna Irvine) ■ Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 31 Aug (not 14, 16 & 17, 19, 21, 23, 26, 28, 30), 1.40pm, £9–£11.
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