{THEATRE} Reviews
K C A J E B B O R I
THE WHEEL Innocence lost in war-torn Spain ●●●●●
When we think about war, it is the civilian casualties or soldiers who lose their lives we remember. The children whose innocence is stripped from them, observing the horrors that surround a war zone rarely, if ever, get a mention. In the west, we worry about how video games and
inappropriate television affect a developing mind. But what if those images are taking place on your doorstep, and pressing the off switch is not an option? This latest work by Edinburgh-based playwright Zinnie
Harris looks at the impact violence and deprivation has on the youngest members of society. And although she has chosen a more magical than gritty realism to explore this, her message remains the same – it does unimaginable damage.
Harris sets The Wheel in late 19th-century Spain, but there’s a timeless and placeless quality to it that makes you feel it could be happening anywhere, anytime. The poverty, lack of supplies and simple living that accompanies a major conflict dominate everyone’s lives. But as the war gathers pace, and central character Beatriz is forced to leave her home to return a lost child to its father, the cost to those living in, not killed by, war really comes to the fore.
Recognising her compassion (or, more importantly, her gender) three people looking to off-load children place them in her care. Beatriz, by her own admission, ‘doesn’t really like children’, but somehow rises to the challenge, traversing the shattered towns and countryside finding inventive ways to feed her ‘family’.
Catherine Walsh is extraordinary as the quick-witted and intelligent Beatriz, backed by a strong ensemble cast of 14, and astute direction by Vicky Featherstone. Deciphering what’s magical and what’s real isn’t always obvious, but this is a small distraction in an otherwise engaging and thought- provoking work. (Kelly Apter) ■ Traverse Theatre, 228 1404, until 28 Aug (not 22), times vary, £17–£19 (£12–£13).
L L E B P M A C D R A H C R
I
TEN PLAGUES Intense, moving musical strikes a chord ●●●●● LEO This charming man ●●●●●
ALLOTMENT Can you dig it? Yes we can! ●●●●●
L A V I T S E F
A one-man musical based on eyewitness accounts of the London Plague of 1665 starring Marc Almond sounds on paper like the kind of parody you’d find on fakefringe.com. Indeed, the 80s pop icon seems nervous as he takes to the stage, as though he isn’t sure what he’s got himself into. Almond’s no actor in the sense of physically inhabiting a role, but you quickly realise that few other performers possess the vocal range to do justice to the emotion of Mark Ravenhill’s libretto. The ten short movements capture aspects of life at
a time of crisis, including the horrors of imagining yourself being tossed into the pit filled with bodies. The intensity of the subject matter is underscored by director Stewart Laing’s stark set, which also carries projections, including a scene of Almond walking through a busy, modern-day London thoroughfare that is extremely moving. If anything Almond and Ravenhill are rather let down by Conor Mitchell’s score, which is so relentlessly harsh it fails to complement the nuances of the text. A stunning coup de théatre, however, brings a sense of genuine excitement to the finale. (Allan Radcliffe) ■ Traverse Theatre, 228 1404, until 28 Aug (not 22), times vary, £17–£19 (£12–£13).
72 THE LIST 18–25 Aug 2011
Leo (Tobias Wegner) finds himself trapped in a box room. With a charming innocence, he uses his imagination, his hat, his suitcase and a piece of chalk to ease the anxiety and the tedium. As he does so we see him on a parallel screen in a different gravity; for instance, if the ‘live’ Leo is lying on the floor, the screen Leo is suspended in mid-air. Wegner and Canadian director Daniel Brière have combined a lovely trick from early cinema, with an ingeniously simple set and a dash of hi-tech animation to create a gorgeously unique show. It is, however, Wegner’s positively virtuosic physical performance that makes the piece. The hilarious, delightful and amazing visual effects depend entirely upon his exceptional skills in clowning, circus gymnastics, drawing and, in a sweet moment, saxophone playing. The ‘music scene’ – in which Leo’s suitcase becomes a music box, playing a different style of music each times he opens it – epitomises the imaginative comedy of the piece, and gives tremendously free rein to Wegner’s talents.
Leo is a beautiful little candy store of a show. Simply an unmissable Fringe treat. (Mark Brown) ■ St George’s West, 226 0000, until 29 Aug (not 24), 8.30pm, £11–£13.50 (£9–£11).
Whatever happens to Dora and Maddy, the chalk- and-chips sisters at the heart of Jules Horne’s sweetly observed play, you know they will be outlived by their surroundings. The soil beneath their feet, the weeds that have persisted for millions of years and the insects that buzz across the working allotment where the two-hander is performed will all persist long after they’ve gone.
The setting means that even though Nicola Jo Cully and Pauline Goldsmith act out the whole life cycle of the squabbling siblings, you get a sense of life cycles gone by and those still to come. As the actors muddy their hands on real earth and savour the aroma of a real mint plant, the site-specific location adds a real poignancy to Horne’s observational script.
It is a poignancy enhanced by the actors’ witty and
sympathetic understanding of the women’s love- hate relationship. Directed with loving attention to detail by Kate
Nelson – from the mug of tea we get on arrival to the props that emerge from the soil itself – Nutshell’s production is a grow-your-own treat. (Mark Fisher) ■ Assembly Inverleith Allotments, 623 3030, until 28 Aug (not 22), times vary, £10.