Fringe children's show reviews: Monsterrrr! | toooB | Norvil & Josephine: Rabbits Out of the Hat

Assembly George Square Gardens (Venue 3) until 17 August

Families will be hard-pressed to find a more exciting children’s show at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe. As well as achieving the crème de la crème of children’s comedy skills, whereby one joke or skit can be equally hilarious to both child and adult audiences, Monsterrrr! with Trygve Wakenshaw is an expertly crafted and kaleidoscopic story, with theatrical elements leading to, and bleeding into, one another.

We hear Monster before we meet him – he stomps and roars in the direction of the stage, and when he arrives, with his snaggletooth, tail, red eyes, and long hair, he could be the giddiest, naughtiest school child you have ever seen. In addition to Wakenshaw’s talent for physical comedy – his personifications of a worm in an apple and an encounter with a giant are particularly fun – the success of Monsterrrr! can be attributed to the theatre company, TOBOSO’s, knack for surprise. When you think you know where this story is headed, think again.

When Monster breaks the rules of the play, or oversteps the mark in any way, he is placed in a ‘timeout’ – a naughty step of a spotlight, in which he learns valuable lessons (the arts of patience, sharing, and apologising, to name but a few). Be it drop-kicking a stuffed deer, a big red button with endless sound effects and significances, or games of Rock, Paper Scissors and Hide and Seek, the audience becomes co-conspirators in a delightfully zany universe where the logic of physics ceases to exist, and literacy and mathematics still hold.

Themes of loneliness and togetherness provide moments of introspection for Monster, and he looks to us, his new companions, to help him puzzle out his place in the world. He roars into a microphone before offering the microphone to us. “Are you a monster?” he asks. “Prove it!”

Josephine Balfour-Oatts

toooB ★★★★

Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) until 25 August

Angel Exit’s whimsical show for between six and 24-month-olds is a curious spectacle. A human-sized caterpillar crawls, wriggles, feeds and, in time, metamorphoses into a woman. In reality, it is performer Tamsin Fessey ensconced in a collapsible tunnel, radiating childlike curiosity with every tilt and twitch, conversing with the audience only in Teletubby-ish babble.

She shuffles and spins to Tom Ball’s 8-bit score of cheerful pings and plonks, greedily devouring marshmallow-looking cylinders as if they were delicacies. It’s just a plastic tube, but somehow, she conjures a soul for it, breathing life into each gesture.

The slow emergence of the human form, first two feet, then a hand, then a pair of eyes peeping out, allows Fessey to fold in gentle clowning, the reveal paced to perfection. It's no surprise that Angel Exit are formed by graduates of the renowned L'École Internationale de Théâtre Jacques Lecoq.

The babies in the audience were entranced. Handed golden orbs to tap and clonk, they explored the ambient soundscape with wide-eyed wonder, eventually invited inside the cavernous toooB itself. At the performance I attended, tiny mouths hung open in inquisitive delight.

Alexander Cohen

Norvil & Josephine: Rabbits Out of the Hat ★★★

King Dome at Pleasance Dome(23) until 24 August

What begins as a family-friendly nod to the glitter and patter of old-school Vaudeville quietly smuggles in a political punch. We are in 1905, and two siblings — Josephine and Norvil — are putting on a turn for the Grand Impresario, dreaming of a slot on the London stage. At first, it’s all top hats and twisty Edwardian moustaches, but beyond the theatre, the winds of change are blowing.

The suffrage movement is gathering steam and hemlines are inching up. Josephine is keen to seize the moment by embracing sequins, variety acts, and votes for women. Norvil on the other hand doggedly clings to tradition.

He is the moustachioed magician, she is the sparkly assistant, destined to be sawed in half. But political change casts a shadow over them too. The clash between the siblings’ personal ambitions and the political weather outside is handled with a feather-light touch. There are no great speeches or tub-thumping pronouncements — just sly winks (“no need for your gas light” she quips) in amongst the hijinks.

The mask begins to slip for Norvil. For all his Edwardian stiff upper lip he hankers to ditch his black cloak for “sequins and panache.” Their bickering and sibling rivalry keep the piece buoyant.

The magic itself is delightfully old-school. Tarot cards, silk handkerchiefs, flowers bursting from sleeves, all resolutely lo-fi and performed with an unashamed theatrical wink. The shackles (both literal and metaphorical) make an appearance, as does the kind of stage patter that’s halfway between charm and cheek, milked for comedy without tipping into parody.

Alexander Cohen

1 Very Silly Old Man with Magical Rhymes ★★

Gilded Balloon at Appleton Tower (venue 140) until 16 August

The title says it all. This is a good bit of silly nonsense to brighten a late morning.

It has the feeling of a grandad cheerfully trying to entertain his grandkids, a lovely quality Sid Ozalid brings, but it doesn’t always land and is missing some imagination and ingenuity. The jumps from rhyme to magic to song are random, and the content, ranging from magical pants to the animal alphabet, is scattered without a thread.

He performs simple tricks (joking a few are from Amazon), which draw some delight from young eyes. His warm presence allows for sweet moments of audience interaction, with everyone invited to take part.

Suzanne O'Brien