At our first get-in Chloe tried the red wash on the lights and the bulb blew. ‘We had a little panic-attack,’ says Fred. Now, what you don’t understand is, Fred never admits to having panic-attacks. In fact, his favourite phrase is ‘Don’t Panic,’ but he is not allowed to say that any more, as it annoys me. So this must have really given him some more grey hairs. Besides which, he bought a jumper, as he was chilly, and the lady said ‘This blue does look good on greying, older gentlemen!’ So that gave him a real panic attack, LOL.
So, our first show SOLD OUT!! In fact, people were even turned away! This is just amazing and made us very happy (and sad for the people who couldn’t get in.)
The author of the original book of Jammy Dodgers Go Underground, Bowering Sivers, came all the way from Colchester to see the show yesterday. She said she thought it was ‘fantastic’. Phew! We had tried to prepare her for the fact that due to time constraints of a Fringe performance, three of her lovely characters have had to be amalgamated into one new one, but had still been worried she might hate it!
She came out on the Mile with us, leafleting. Here she is with Chloe:
We walked up Arthur’s Seat. Here is Ned with his violin, being blown away:
Here is Baby V! and Chloe:
Here is Mrs Blood and Billy:
OMG we are famous!!!! For a minute, until we realised they were some sort of camera club!
Here is Zeke putting his oboe together with the help of Lukeybabes (Thin Tim). Ooh sounds rude but isn’t! (see the unfortunately placed sand sculpture of dog in background.)
Mrs Blood is BORED! BORED BORED BORED!!! She needs some MUSICIANS in her PARLOUR, MR BLOOD.
We’ve been taking the coffin to the Mile. You need a gimmick, you need something that grabs people, scares them, makes them take a leaflet. ‘Little Dead Boys in Coffins,’ I’ve been calling out. ‘Poor little boy! Look! ‘e died of ‘unger! We’re all gonna die! ‘elp us! Come to our show!’ Little boys and girls are transfixed but their parents sometimes horrified. Here are Mr and Mrs Blood with the poor dead boy:
And here are five wee lads looking at the coffin with our poor dead boy intilt: (oh my god, aren’t they gorjuss though?)
We also have a review from Primary Times.
Cherries go mouldy plaguey quick. I have to wash them in the sinks of the venue loos. The watercress has gone limp and smelly. Luckily now we have Bowering Sivers’ fake watercress as I have been spending a fortune on new cherries and watercress.
All the cast have been going to see all sorts of different things. We alighted upon some great comedy in our local pub: The Debonair Assassin. He was definitely not debonair! Checked out Circa at Bristo Square with Bashi. A six-strong troupe with bendy bodies, clambering all over each other and falling from heights onto their heads. Went to see Paul Merton and his Impro chums. The best bit for me is Paul acting as interpreter for a made-up foreign language. Laughed so hard I nearly threw up. We went into a bar straight afterwards, and all the Impro Chums came in too (because we were there obv). Exciting to be hobnobbing with groovy famous peeps! Saw the gripping This is Living at the Bedlam. Luke’s exceptionally talented sister Tamsin Topolski is a dead girl in limbo. She acts so naturally that I can see her on the telly, easy. The shifts between the present deadness and the past livingness is so well done. I highly recommend it. Checked out Six a new musical. It smacked of Jason Robert-Brown, we thought, right from the first chord. Had a hard-working cast with slick moves and messages about the fractional nature of modern city life. I also went to see Darkle, with David Hayman at Surgeons’ Hall. It’s fabby. I posted an audience review for them:
‘From its brilliant, prompt opening with three young flat-mates sprawled over a massive beanbag this powerful modern piece had me completely hooked and blew me away. The entrance of the landlord (David Hayman) with his dog (real!) is so funny and intense. The tension rises with the landlord’s ranty monologues as the others’ intentions start shifting. I loved the ‘randomness’ of some of the lines from the youf: ‘we can…go and knock on people’s doors and…say nothing?’ and the way their energy contrasts with that of the oblivious and obsessed older man, illustrating the generational divide. The landlord becomes increasingly creepy: ‘I sit here thinking what you are doing during your day!’ The youf proceed to give him overlapping snapshots of their respective days: as a nurse, as a hairdresser, as a butcher. I loved Brian’s ‘it’s all like a cartoon!’ monologue while looking straight at the audience. The young people start hating the increasingly frequent visits of their landlord: ‘He probably sleeps with his dog’ and ‘let’s put slugs in his milkbottles’ escalates to ‘he just sponges rent off us!’ leading to the hilarious ‘ideas to kidnap Max’ scene, where it becomes girls versus boy: the increasing anarchy seems drug-fuelled (but you see no sign of drugs). Having to eat the dog, butchered by the initially reluctant but now rather keen Brian, proves too much for the girls and by the end, when the traumatised youf are all clustered around the landlord having a bad come-down, we witness their newly-awakened yearning for older values, family, boundaries. Thought-provoking and laugh-out-loud action with amazing acting. I give this play five stars.’
Gotta go chill with the coffin on the Mile! See you later!