Edinburgh International Children’s Festival
Nosferatu
Traverse
*****
Bambert’s Book Of Lost Stories
Brunton Theatre
****
The Queen Has Vanished,
The Studio/Festival Theatre
****
MamaBabaMe,
Southside Community Centre
***
Primo
Assembly Roxy
***
Mary Brennan
ONCE upon a time, two men shared a leap of the imagination – you could call it a “lightbulb moment” – and decided to stage a table-top puppet-play about vampires. They called it Nosferatu, channelling their various literary and cinematic sources into an ingenious production that is full of lightbulb moments: the puppet-characters are all lightbulbs of various shapes and sizes.
It’s a concept that chimes in well with vampiric themes – instead of blood being the life, here it’s electricity. When Count Orlock bites the hapless Ellen, his fangs are a two-pronged plug – cunningly like the vampire’s front teeth in Murnau’s 1922 film. As her light goes out, his bulbous eyes glow, an effect appreciated by the eight to 13 years (and adult) audience.
Devisers/performers Denis Athimon and Julien Mellano (Bob Theatre, France) fill their story-telling with all the best shades of guignol excess: hollow laughter, grotesque facial expressions, sepulchral-spooky voices and OTT mannerisms. By turns scary and funny, it’s a tour-de-force of inventive skills.
No vampires rise from Bambert’s Book, but this Australian production by Barking Gecko Theatre (for ages 8 to 13) is not afraid to touch on the darker sides of past history or our own existence.
The eye-catchingly ornate set operates – like the narrative itself – on several levels, with live performance providing a vivid context for the final days of a gnarly old puppet, Bamberg, who scatters his unpublished stories to the four winds in hopes that readers will respond.
The twist here is that while the stories offer insights into greed, ambition, tyranny and courage, Bambert seems unaware of his own isolation. Are the actions of the downstairs shop-keeper really for the best, however? The nature of true friendship, the shadowy presence of loneliness and mortality, filter through the comedy and colourful re-enactments of Bamberg’s stories with a thoughtfulness that is both wise and moving.
Kopergietery, from Belgium, are welcome regulars to this festival: The Queen Has Vanished (for five-12 years) was a fine example of how they consistently handle life-changing situations with a stylistic flair that never condescends to young audiences.
Projections of Sabien Clement’s real-time line drawings chart the Queen’s gradual disappearance. She leaves no note. The King and Princess Anna subsequently shift from bafflement to anger and denial, and though death is never mentioned, they both succumb to unexpressed sorrow.
The imagery, both verbal and physical, is strikingly evocative – not least when Anna’s princely suitor recognises she’s heavy-hearted with unshed tears. His wooing is distinctly hands-on frisky, but the insights into the effects of loss and grief are powerfully frank and valuable, while the live music sets the scene better than a clutter of props.
Two Scottish companies, Starcatchers and Curious Seed, beguile tots (18 months to three years) with a dance piece, MamaBabaMe, that puts early years discovery at the centre of a cosy, padded circle. Christine Devaney’s choreography for Hannah Venet and Nerea Gurrutxaga reflects the tactile connections between mother and baby as well as the moments when crawling becomes standing, becomes an adventure!
Cellist Robin Mason provides vocalisings and joins in the fun, as do young onlookers at the end. No all-in participation by any two- to five-year-olds during Primo: the only ones in the pool are Alfredo Zinola and Felipe Gonzalez, using the distorting effect of water to make hands, feet, faces seem like strange creatures of the deep. With noses pressed up against the porthole-windows, a wide-eyed audience loved every bizarre moment.
The Festival has now ended.
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