FRINGEFRINGEFRINGE

I love this feeling—being stuck in the middle of Melbourne Fringe. I feel like I really come alive for these three weeks in a really magical way. It’s the seeing three shows in a night, the sh*ttiest theatre you can imagine watched back to back with something that’ll stay with you forever, seeing old friends and new friends and not-yet friends in the bar, rushed hugs in the warrens of the Festival Hub while the show you’re queuing for opens late, the exhausted deliciousness of tech rehearsals and bump ins and the rush of reviews.

I dunno, it’s really special.

I’m opening 2 (two) shows this week which I wrote about here, over on the Pigeon Pigeon mailing list. They’re both gonna be heaps of fun and I’m truly having the time of my life. You should come and see both of them.

I’ve also managed to see sixteen shows thus far, and I figure I’ll tell you about what stood out to me (or irked me so much I need to let it out).

instructions

I feel bad for how much I disliked this show, I really do.

In short, instructions is a show with a different actor every night, where they get up and perform an unrehearsed show based a series of instructions delivered to them via a screen only they can see, a screen we can all see, and through a headset they were occasionally tasked with putting on.

This is now the third show I’ve seen this year that plays on this concept. The others being the remarkable exploration of mental health and children’s agency that was POV by re:group, and the visually stunning if overwrought ECHO by Nassim Soleimanpour (my review).

So instructions has a lot to live up to, and I fear that — for me — it really struggled to.

This one’s about AI replacing actors jobs in cinema, a pressing concern given the recent controversy around Tilly Norwood.

The night I saw it I had John Marc Desegnano who plays an actor who auditions for a film, is told he’s been cast, and then realises his performance has been synthesised with AI. The actor then has to grapple with what that means for them, how do they talk about their ‘work’ then? What constitutes their contribution to the work anyways?

I empathise with this concern, I really do. While I don’t necessarily think AI is as existential a threat to the arts as some commentators do—I have some amount of faith that people crave human connection as a fundamental reason for engaging in art—but I acknowledge that in the time it takes us all to remember that, it’s going to be a couple bumpy years.

So instructions, deftly asks its (ir?)replaceable actor to spend the night highlighting the emotional devastation that the loss of real artists’ contributions to cinema brings. It’s a well-made bit of experimental theatre which I can’t really fault on technical grounds. There’s some lovely use of recorded video which is interspersed with the live feed, and the lighting and tech is arguably some of the best you’re going to see from a show at a Fringe hub.

In instructions is a show asserting that real humans need to make real contributions to art to make it something special, to imbue it with a liveliness which makes it worth seeing. But it’s wrapped up in a form which relies upon the actor being distanced from the means of production of the work, from the rehearsal rooms, and all the thinking that happens before a show opens. I get what it’s doing, showing how vital individuality and unpredictability is to art, but it feels so cynical a way to do it.

Particularly when viewed in context of the second work that creators Subject Object are bringing to this fringe—work.txt, a show performed entirely by the audience—it feels (to me) like a way of programming more ‘experimental’ shows on the cheap by skimping on rehearsal time. Is that not what OpenAI is trying to do? Create technical marvels which eradicate the costs needed for human labour?

It’s a good show, it’s well done, but it just left me a little sad. More theatre with more people spending time in rehearsals rooms please.

instructions is on until the 12th of October at Trades Hall.

The Censor

This was a real treasure of a show from Cass Fumi and Vidya Rajan, presented at Artplay and starring an ensemble of five kids and (arriving halfway through the show in a beautiful moment of tension) some of their parents. Only four shows and it’s closed for now, but god it was good.

The show began in this fantasy island where kids rule. One of the things they do in this utopia is petition their leader (a regal squid) to censor/not censor items that wash up on the shore. In our case, a copy of American Psycho and their literal parents. The show explores these kids justifications for why media should or shouldn’t be banned, including by reenacting scenes from the book (I assume, I’ve not read it) to see if it‘s as shocking as suggested.

The show really meaningful embeds children’s agency into the work—I mean they co-created it! It’s a potent and beautiful reminder of the way we infantilise kids and the real costs of that.

A Guide to Being Immortal

A solid well-constructed play exploring dying and grief through a pair of friends navigating one of the pair’s cancer diagnosis. Sold out their entire run I believe and it was a lovely little thing.

Horse Play: An Earnest One-Man Show Based on The Saddle Club

This show was literally a performance of the first episode of The Saddle Club by comedian Jett Bond. No jokes added—and it was hilarious. I really think Jett is one of the most interesting alternative comedians working at the moment, and his continuous experimentation with form is so fricking exciting. Very keen for his next Fringe show Nothing to See Here, Just a Totally Normal Comedy Show, Wouldn’t Worry About It. I’m sure it’ll be heaps of fun.

The Subplot: A Hyperfixation on the Titan Submersible

I’m being very cheeky by writing this because I was asked not to review the show while it’s still under development—but I hope the team will let this slide because the show was really very good. The charismatic Sophie Smyth literally just took the stage and info-dumped about the Titan submersible, weaving together a story of the hubris of contemporary fascism and the way we might be able to escape it without imploding. Really good, earnest, informational, fun stuff.

Sh!t Theatre: or What’s Left of Us

TL;DW two brits recount a story about a folk club burning down, exploring how maybe tradition and community is what we need to get out of this mess we’re in.

Very good, but I’m unsure why this show had all the hype around it. Perhaps all the folk songs in it struck a chord in the folks who never had a sea shanty phase in 2020.

The Reverse Confessional

I really enjoyed this one-on-one moment amidst a five show night.

You enter The Temple (real venue name) at Trades Hall, and are ushered in by a silent hooded figure who invites you to sit on a plush chair in a velvety confessional booth. Then, you’re handed a peace of paper with some text to read, when you do, a voice on the other side of the booth begins to read erotic poetry to you. It’s kinky, it’s horny, and I loved closing my eyes as images of pain and pleasure and salvation floated around my head against the sonic background of a buzzing festival hub.

Great. More horny theatre please.

As always, I wrote about a couple other shows over on Instagram in my broadcast channel, including The Worm, Annus Horribilis, and Jester’s Privilege—all lovely pieces of theatre and comedy.

In other news, I have been doing heaps of re-organising on my website and have to say I am very happy with how it’s looking now. Truly, I love the web. I know I would’ve thrived had I been an adult in the age of Web 2.0. Here’s the main menubar as it looks currently:

One new page which may be of particular interest to you if you’re a theatre-maker or producer or critic is this page I put together which kind of talks about how I want to approach my critical practice. It’s a bit wanky but maybe you’ll find something worthwhile in it (there’s also a lovely bibliography at the end).

Anywho, that’s all from me in the first week of Fringe. What have you been seeing? What are you excited to see? How’s your fringe going?

I’d truly love to yap about it x