Ed Fringe: Finally Friday

Ed Fringe: Finally Friday

Oh no, it’s the last day! After packing up, we grabbed our last tram into the city centre to head back to same venue we’d been twelve hours previously. Adrienne Truscott’s show was in Heroes @ Bob and Miss Behave’s Bookshop, but this was unlike any book shop I’d seen because it didn’t have any books. However, it did have some the coolest shows that were wacky, wild and weird. Before Adrienne’s show, we got chatting to an artist that would be there the following afternoon doing live scribbles; more on that later. Thom also recognised a name on the blackboard outside the ‘bookshop’: Ian D Montfort, who would be performing a special séance at midday due to a misunderstanding. We had nothing planned for Friday except getting home to our own beds so we headed down to Holyrood Road, had a massive breakfast and then onwards to Bob and Miss Behave’s Bookshop for a double bill.

 

Montfort performed a flawless séance despite the low spiritual energy what with it being midday. It was listed as cabaret and science, but if you didn’t know Ian D Montfort, or rather Tom Binns, background you wouldn’t be able to full appreciate the performance. Binns aims to show up psychics and other mind reading rubbish that circulates as the real deal. He can cold read people and influence people’s decisions much in the style of Derren Brown, but he does it with a punchline. Comedy meets the cosmic, needless to say, I wasn’t picked. I never am.

 

We step outside, wait for the chairs to clear and Peter Morey to set up his pens and paper. Such a unique concept, we have comedians doing their thing and telling their jokes, meanwhile, Morey is in the corner drawing it, scribbling it and visualising it. The audience have a doodle on their hand on entry and this is used as a selection process. If you’re selected you get to draw on the BIG BIT, the big bit of paper that will have seen a week of comedy and audience participation. Needless to say, I wasn’t picked. I never am. But it was fun to watch, if not a little scary as a large Glaswegian had wondered in off the streets and decided to join in. She shook my chair, I was too polite to do anything about it.

 

Next was the worst piece of theatre we saw, a piece called Swimming, which was genuinely upsetting as it was produced by Menagerie, Mercury Theatre Colchester and Escalator East to Edinburgh. The major flaw for me was the writing. It was a poorly written script, failing at both plot and dialogue. If there was a theme or a drive it was: teenagers have feelings too you guys. It wasn’t badly acted, they did well with what they were given. It just left me feeling ‘smer’. I don’t think it helped that someone tall sat right in front of me and I had a fabulous view of the extremes of the stage and the back of a head.

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