Fringe theatre reviews: 1 King, 2 Princes and Shakespeare’s Li + more

theSpace @ Symposium Hall (Venue 43) until 22 August (18, 20 and 22 only)

A Pound of Flesh ★★★

theSpace on the Mile (Venue 39) until 23 August

Mother, Maiden and Crone ★★★

theSpace @ Niddry Street (Venue 9) until 19 August

There will always be Shakespeare on the Fringe, and there will always be companies taking liberties with Shakespeare, reinventing, subverting, using these canonical plays as a jumping-off point for their own imaginations. Even, on occasions, taking them to task for historical accuracy.

Take Richard III, for example, one of the Bard’s great villains. What if he wasn’t “a hunchback murderer labouring under the weight of his own ambition”? In 1 King, 2 Princes and Shakespeare’s Lie, writer and performer Andrew Slade presents a Richard III who contends his reputation was ruined by “a playwright in need of a villain”.

This King Richard never wanted the throne but assumed it in order to protect his brother’s two young sons. As monarch, he did decent, practical things like introduce reforms to the justice system, help the poor and standardise weights and measures. He most certainly did not have the two boys murdered to protect his claim to the throne.

Slade’s monologue presents a wealth of research. Wisely, he doesn’t pastiche a Shakespearean style, but there is a heightened quality to the lines, and he speaks them elegantly. The trouble is that, however right he is - and it does seem pretty convincing - the Shakespeare version has stuck. Somehow, the Bard’s brooding, scheming Richard is just more interesting than a good man complaining at length about how badly he has been maligned.

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Meanwhile, in A Pound of Flesh, written and directed by Martin Foreman, Edinburgh-based Arbery Theatre imagine an alternative outcome to The Merchant of Venice, a play in which the ending - the triumph of Portia’s clever arguments and the debasement of Shylock - always sits a little uneasily.

In their version, Antonio borrows from Shylock to help his friend Bassanio because he is secretly in love with him. Bassanio goes and wins Portia’s hand, as per Shakespeare, but she then goes to Padua and catches the plague. So instead of coming to the rescue in Venice, she leaves Bassanio and Antonio to confront their feelings for each other before Shylock extracts his “pound of flesh”.

Foreman combines sections of text from the play with invented passages, a brave thing to attempt, but one which is mostly successful. Gabriel Bird and Ollie Hiemann do well as Antonio and Bassanio, and Danielle Farrow gives a restrained, simmering performance as a female Shylock, intent on revenge after a lifetime of anti-semitism. There is a sense in which some elements of their darker ending - with or without the gay bromance - sit more comfortably with the play’s thorny issues.

Mother, Maiden and Crone seems to have begun with a reimagining of the three witches in Macbeth, but that might be where the similarity ends. In Ewan Burns’ debut play, the trio run Limbo Bar & Kitchen, a queer nightclub in Edinburgh where packages include “Queen for a day”. Today, their only guests are a hen party and the owner is threatening to turn the basement into a sauna.

A wild night ensues in which potions are mixed, secrets revealed and Macbeth occasionally alluded to (“By the receding of my gums/ something wicked this way comes.”) “Out, damned spot” is used by a character trying to get a stain out of their t-shirt.

Burns’ script is fast-paced and, at times, wickedly sharp. Lewis Gemmell’s production has an anarchic energy - there’s one character whose entire role seems to be to hold up a sign at the beginning of each act and then fall over. The costumes are fab and everyone appears to be having a whale of a time. It’s all quite a long way from Shakespeare, but I suspect he might be in there somewhere, enjoying the party.

David Pollock

Hood ★★★

Just the Tonic at the Caves (Venue 88) until 19 August

One of those young company Fringe plays that’s somehow less than the sum of its most impressive parts, this new piece by writer Katie Poole, which reexamines the legend of Robin Hood from a feminist perspective, can be forgiven its flaws and the parts where it doesn’t quite hold together, because there’s so much of interest still going on within.

In this version of the story, Nottingham’s legendary local bandit who robs from the rich and gives to the poor is believed to be a man called Robin, but really they’re a woman named Marian. Rose, the daughter of a venal and dictatorial local Duke, stumbles upon Marian mid-robbery of her father’s castle, and the ensuing spin on the tale pits 21st-century femininity against old-fashioned patriarchy (at one point the fuming Duke tellingly outlaws all "radical meetings").

Lauren Paterson-Brown’s recomposition of old folk ballads for a vocal quartet are a real highlight of the piece, and although the performances from the nine actors are variable, all are adequate and some are very good, especially the actor playing Marian (unfortunately, roles aren’t credited individually on the flyer). Poole’s script is loose, a little too slow or casually light-hearted in places, but it hits enough of the right beats for a novel and entertaining hour.

David Pollock

Screaming Into the Void ★★★

theSpace on the Mile (Venue 39) until 22 August

So many voices, so little time. Kira Mason’s comic play is among the best of this year’s crop of new work from the students at Edinburgh Napier University. Screaming Into the Void comes at you like an intense social media binge, caricaturing the bewildering array of competing online content aimed particularly at women. If you didn’t feel bored and unfulfilled before sucking on this supposed self-care stuff, don’t worry - the Void will do its best to make you feel inadequate.

Meet Clean Queen (Eva Ellis). Her body is a temple into which she tips odd organic smoothies and no man shall breach her immaculately toned thighs. Trad Wife (Arlene McKay) takes homeliness to quite visceral extremes, while Divine Feminine Goddess (Abi Price) is a New Age Nazi giving off some disturbing energy. So thank goodness for Relatable Queen (Marnie Horne) because she’s just like you - whoever you may be.

All four break out of their obsessive spheres of interest to challenge and interact with each other and explore their limits - the comments section is beyond the pale though. The play loses a bit of momentum in the second half as it circles its well-established themes, but it’s sharply written and performed with comic relish by its dedicated cast.

Fiona Shepherd

Romance on Repeat ★★★

theSpace on the Mile (venue 39) until 23 August

It’s well known that Hallmark holiday films typically follow the same formula with their plots and characters. This production embraces that predictability with playful charm.

Lizzie, caught in a less-than-ideal relationship, longs for the kind of love she’s seen on screen. Then, unexpectedly, she’s pulled into her television and forced to play the lead role in one Hallmark-style rom-com after another. Multiple versions of her finding love and true meaning during the holidays are played out, taking us from snowy Christmas towns to pumpkin patches.

Brikaih Flore is great as Lizzie, driving the piece with wit, exasperation, and emotional range as the absurdity builds and her strained relationship with her ill mother comes to the fore. The other three cast members deliver committed performances as the overly wholesome best friend, the rugged hometown hunk, and the slick real estate boyfriend. They embrace all the familiar cliches, playing them with warmth and humour.

There are clever touches throughout, like censorship bleeps and faux commercial breaks, that remind us of the surreal world Lizzie is trapped in. However, the show drags under its own repetitive structure. The jokes, while initially funny, lose steam, and the piece ultimately feels a bit longer than necessary.

Suzanne O'Brien

Sex, Drugs and…? ★

theSpace on the Mile (Venue 39) until 22 August

Meet “the biggest rock band since Oasis” - group name withheld, but they can certainly squabble like the Gallagher brothers. Bratty guitarist Johnny, relatively straight singer Nicky and bassist and middlewoman Nancy are quizzed by a Rolling Stone journalist mere moments before going onstage at Murrayfield.

This is (unconvincing) interview as therapy session, providing the clunky vehicle for flashbacks to their turbulent early drug days when more time is spent arguing than making music. The characters present more as bickering flatmates than global megastars and the shouty dynamic quickly wears thin in a gig which feels a lot longer than it actually lasts.

Fiona Shepherd