There is no question that Serenity Fisher has a staggering amount of talent: She plays magnificently, sings well, writes smoothly in rhyme and coins clever inversions of phrases. But this is a poorly formed and indulgent exercise that, like a Stradivarius with only one string, plays the same light note throughout.   

"There's a lot of different ways to tell his story. Here's how I tell it." I felt like a kid again, sitting around a campfire with someone spinning scary stories, one on top of the other. That's what 'Harold' is all about, the third iteration of excellent Fringe shows from Four Humors Theater.  

A year ago Karim Muasher was part of the group Giant Bird that came to the 2009 Cincy Fringe to tell the story of the 'Empire of Feathers,' a mythic world in which a quest was undertaken to find a rare bird. This time around, he's back in a solo piece to tell a "spoken-word, multi-media bedtime story" set in a more elemental, mythic world illustrated by crude Nintendo graphics and electronic audio effects.   

If movement serves as language, then the Space Movement Project, a Chicago-based modern dance collective, displays fluency in its Cincy Fringe debut. The six women dance a lot throughout the piece, and their movement vocabulary proved extensive; I recall only a few recurring motifs.   

After seven years, people who still don't totally understand what the Cincy Fringe Festival is all about should make plans to see this perfect example of what's right and fun about Fringe theater. Pound for pound, I'm not sure you can find a more accessible, charming and pee-in-your-pants-funny show this week.   

In a program statement e.E. Charlton-Trujillo, the director of local poet Rhonda Pettit's 'The Global Lovers,' has written: "I wanted to create a visually compelling, sensory bombastic performance that didn't pull punches." My ever reliable Webster's Dictionary defines "bombastic" as "given to bombast" and "bombast" as "pretentious inflated speech or writing." Bingo!   

We Fringe regulars have been at the Dayton Holiday Inn before. This time around Finite Number of Monkeys Productions, who gave us 'The Success Show' last year, reveals plans for a wonderfully wacky movie that will blend a sainted American musical with Bollywood production values and cultural aims. I hate to even tell you that its name will be 'Oklahomahatma.'   

CCM grad Casey Scott Leach offers a 45-minute set that combines a scripted stream of consciousness and rap. He rages, role-plays, reflects, observes, judges, moves offstage with an ax to chop at a log and flirts. He falls to the floor repeatedly, from which he sometimes awakes as if from a dream. Also onstage is Ben Leach, who drums and plays the banjo to accompany the poet's journey.  

Based on a series of improvised rehearsals, the folks at Fake Bacon Productions have patched together a show that might be a little too loose to be taken seriously, while being too funny at times to dismiss entirely. It's a bit like every '70s disaster flick ('Earthquake,' 'Poseidon Adventure,' 'Towering Inferno') meets 'The Naked Gun.'  

This gleeful hour of stage calamities conceived by Minneapolis-based partners Ryan Lear and Rachel Petrie could become the breakout hit of the 2010 Cincy Fringe. Cleverly constructed, sharply written and hilariously performed, it's a simultaneous celebration and lampoon of all that is sacred and silly in the histrionic realm.  

The utterly raw nature of a Fringe production can be its greatest and most exciting asset. And that can be its biggest and sometimes insurmountable challenge. In the case of 'Just Say Know,' it's a little bit of both.  

Is poetry just for English majors? 'Nevermore' says no, that playgoers can tune into iambic verse just fine. Although writer/director Amy Pettinella plays the feminine role in this two-character piece, she gives the best lines to her co-actor, Russell McGee. No surprise: He's playing Edgar Allan Poe, no stranger to good lines.  

During most of the swift, sweet hour that 'Blue Collar Diaries' fills, playwright-performer Michelle Myers Berg beckons to us to step inside her memory and look around. She invites us to study and regard verbal snapshots of a dozen or so people who loomed large in the poor but secure childhood she lived in a downscale neighborhood in St. Paul, Minn.  

This 'Cyrano,' by Jo Roets, is a highly condensed version of Edmond Rostand's three-hour romantic comedy. It's sleeker and sharper but lacks some of the poetry and dimensionality of the original. What remains is a post-modern machine for shaking out the story and meaning of Cyrano and Roxanne.  

Dylan Shelton and Annie Kalahurka play newly minted born-again Christians whom God has sent on a mission: to convert the audience with "Soul Juice." This involves saving our souls with 'Saturday Night Live'-style sketches, including songs, jokes, puppetry and even a clown show.