Edinburgh Fringe theatre reviews: Cheese and Guava or Romeo and Juliet | What's in the Kitchen | Another Sight | Honest Fraud | The Mequetrefo
Five shows from São Paulo bring a dash of Brazilian flair to the Fringe, from an energised musical take on Shakespeare to a domestic drama played by blind actors in total blackout conditions. By Fiona Shepherd
THEATRE
Cheese and Guava or Romeo and Juliet ★★★☆☆
Summerhall (Venue 26) until 25 August
What's in the Kitchen ★★★☆☆
Assembly Rooms (Venue 20) until 23 August
Another Sight ★★★☆☆
ZOO Playground (Venue 186) until 24 August
CABARET
Honest Fraud ★★★☆☆
Underbelly Bristo Square (Venue 302) until 25 August
CHILDREN'S SHOWS
The Mequetrefo ★★★☆☆
Underbelly Bristo Square (Venue 302) until 10 August
This year, the Fringe hosts the largest showcase of Brazilian work in its history, with a batch of vibrant shows from the state of São Paulo enriching the tally. What can you learn about Brazilian culture from these visiting companies? Firstly, that nothing starts the Fringe day quite like a chaotic bilingual gig theatre take on Romeo and Juliet.
In Cheese and Guava or Romeo and Juliet, the motley ensemble from the Cênica theatre company are keen to share some cultural references, not just the sweet-savoury dessert which is named after Romeo and Juliet for its delicious marriage of clashing flavours but also the music of Brazil's Sinatra, the easy listening crooner Roberto Carlos. Carlos offered easy listening escapism to Brazilians in a time of oppression as well as the fine array of 1970s album covers on parade here.
The pick-and-mix intro – firstly in English, then with successive samba, Broadway and rock soundtracks, concluding with a macarena dance-off across the auditorium – is a taste of the loose, even messy rendition to come. Mercutio and Tybalt face off for a guitar duel, the balcony scene is played in lyrical Portuguese and then a less musical schmaltzy ballad and the young lovers consummate their marriage with a bilingual love duet.
Along the way, Cheese and Guava is peppered with personal family histories from the cast, both sweet and sour. This Brazilian spin exudes empathy for the nurse and lashings of “saudade” from Romeo in exile, as well as an opportunity to taste the titular dessert, before the cast strip off for a samba party which is somewhat lost in translation.
Arrive hungry for La Troupe's What's in the Kitchen because these people are going to feed you, with a packed lunch and choice of alcoholic or non-alcoholic drink for every attendee. Actor and cook Eduardo Estrella is your guide for this undemanding hour on Brazilian culinary traditions, which are as much influenced by migrant culture as the native cuisine of any county, region or city.
He alights briefly on the importance of coffee, a lubricant which straddles economic inequality in São Paulo, before moving swiftly on to the next course and a tasting menu of different characters, inspired by real-life feeders, from the chef supreme to the Italian matriarch dispensing bounty, wasting nothing, to the slick world of the TV chef.
He seasons the narrative with tales of his own love affair with cooking and draws parallels with the adrenaline rush of the kitchen and the theatre, both requiring preparation, unsocial hours and a fear of the critic. This lovely lunch hour is put together with care and hospitality, if a tendency to over-explain rather than let the flavours do the talking. The polvilho crostini is particularly eloquent.
From taste sensations to at least partial sensory deprivation in Another Sight. This new play by São Paulo’s Blind Theater company is performed in total blackout conditions. This mean phones off, no distracting chit-chat, audience led in with hands on the shoulder of the person in front to be carefully seated and protocols in place if anyone needs to leave.
For the company, it means an opportunity for its ensemble of blind actors to play sighted characters. With no option for subtitles, they have risen to the challenge of learning the dialogue in English. The play itself is a fairly standard domestic drama in which maid Maria, somewhat disdained by her employer Grace, becomes an example for how to deal with a cancer diagnosis.
The script is not nearly as diverting as the experience the company have created to welcome the audience into their unsighted world where the other senses are heightened. In the darkness, you relish the smell of perfume and cooking, feel the waft of a fan, are alive to the sound of the actors’ voices moving around the room and develop a more acute awareness of footsteps, the scraping of cutlery on plates, the tinkle of a doorbell and the descriptive dialogue. Once again, such touching care has been taken that we feel more like guests than observers in their midst.
A warm welcome also awaits in Fundo Falso Company’s Honest Fraud. Our hosts are the utterly charming duo Rudi Solon and Ricardo Malerbi who swiftly set the scene for their fascination with magic, or as they call it “the honest fraud”. These gentlemen scammers will not operate without a Fraud Inspector in attendance. They choose their “credible auditor” from the audience by the tossing of a cuddly toy capybara, a Brazilian symbol of luck and general amenability, then the games begin.
Their street magic-style sleight of hand is modest in scale but elicits not just gasps but shouts of wonder and disbelief in the audience. Using their lucky card deck, they pull off simple but effective feats of memory and prediction. Other games of chance are available – in this case, rock, papers, scissors done Brazilian-style. Magic is a universal language and this particular dialect is gentle and feelgood. In their show, “no one loses, everyone wins”.
Final language lesson: a mequetrefe is Latin American slang for a loser, a bum, a feckless man. What better excuse for some kid-friendly clowning action? São Paulo circus company Parlapatões present The Mequetrefo, a daft day in the life of four titular bums, from sleepyhead start to bedtime pillow fight.
Once roused by a mix of exercise, wind-up key and a bop on the head with a big toy hammer, our clowns aimlessly attack the day, with multiple ways to put on a blazer. Members of the troupe pull off a handful of agile solo set-pieces but this is mostly a team effort. A ladder prop becomes a bus for the clown commute and later, with the addition of a couple of colourful and highly adaptable barrels, also trains, boats and planes for their goofy perambulations.
This is a conventional clowning display and tradition dictates that there is no show without spurting liquids. Anyone in the front rows should heed the weather warning for Edinburgh rain.
FIONA SHEPHERD
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