O’Keefe’s script is poetic, thoughtful and evocative. The
cleverly designed program (resembling the safety information brochure
found in the seatback pocket when you travel by air) suggests “somewhere
between departure and arrival, you can be anyone.” Or, perhaps, no one.
offers no easy answers, but credit must be given for creating a wholly
exclusive experience. If you choose to make this a part of your personal
Fringe experience, however, be prepared for a cold, calculating
question mark rather than a bold, loud exclamation point.
The actors and the show were absolutely at their best
during unscripted moments — hearing the Coffee Emporium phone ring,
accidentally hitting the ceiling fan above the stage, calling attention
to the lack of off-stage space during the show — events that elicited
the strongest laughs of the night.
Playwright Andrew Hungerford had a solid foundation for his very silly 2013 Fringe show, A. J. Raffles: Amateur Cracksman.
It was, in fact, a series of stories in the 1890s and a 1904 play
(titled Raffles, The Amateur Cracksman). Victorian writer E. W. Hornung
created the character somewhat in response to the work of his
brother-in-law Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, whose Sherlock Holmes was all the
Teenagers look critically at the grownup world, perhaps
because they know they'll be there themselves before long, and they
often don't like what they see. The School for Creative and Performing
Arts students who put together We Put the F.U.N. in Funeral certainly fall into that number, and interpret their title in the most ironic sense.
A note in the program says that Ron “wanted to deter his
students from the allure of totalitarianism.” My impression is that
explanation was merely an excuse he gave one student’s parent. Whatever
Ron’s original pedagogical motives were, those motives dissolve with his
innocence as he takes on the lascivious appeal of power.
Hayley Powell’s In Which I Set Myself on Fire is a noble
effort to give shape to a complex idea — the collective reality of shared
experience, the mental synchronicity that happens among close friends.
Judging from the enthusiasm generated by the actors, and
by several audience members who were really getting into the spirit of
audience integration, A Killing Game is gonna have a killer run at the
In this one-man show, Kevin Brown, a lanky young man with a
punk-style shaved head and a long blonde forelock a la Rihanna, throws
himself into what is billed as “the internal violence and drama that
occur when one questions stereotyping, impatience, gender complexities,
the nature of living sacrifice and the value of one’s artistry.”
Darrow’s gumshoe detective story goes like this: He is a fedora-wearing, gun-toting
man in love with the wrong kind of dame. Man is murdered (bum, bum,
bum!) and with magic tricks, mentalism and plenty of help from game
audience members he solves the WHO, WHAT, WHERE, WHEN, WHY of the crime.
I suppose if you saw it, you might say that Pulling off Procreation is a Fringe-esque meditation on celebrity and fame in a 24/7
“news” culture. You might also say, as I did via my review notes, “OH
MY GOD KILL ME NOW.”
The newest play from creative team Serenity Fisher and Robin O’Neal Kissel is a whirlwind of new vocabulary words (say zoetropic five times fast); new professions (flavor listener) and new problems (an entire galaxy is about to be devoured/obliterated by a scary instellar storm, aka the vortex).
We’ll never really know what kept Dickinson a
prisoner in that upstairs room in Amherst, Massachusetts, but if you see this
show you’ll have some insight into the kind of demons or gods that might have