FESTIVAL AND FRINGE REVIEWS

Real Magic

The Studio

Ends today (Sunday August 27)

All Genius All Idiot

Assembly Roxy

Ends Today

Nassim

Traverse Theatre

Ends today (Sunday, August 27)

Reviewed by Mark Brown

ALTHOUGH very much part of the cultural mainstream internationally, Sheffield-based performance company Forced Entertainment (which was established in 1984) continues to be described as "leftfield", "experimental" and (whisper it) "avant-garde" in the UK. Edinburgh International Festival director Fergus Linehan's decision to present their show Real Magic (a deeply ironic and comic take on popular televisual culture) marks a new moment, both for the English group and the EIF.

The piece takes us into a ludicrous game show in which the asking and answering of one absurd question is repeated (with variation) for one-and-a-half hours. Which word, a contestant is asked, is the other contestant thinking of? The "mystery" word is only ever selected from a group of three words, the answers are always from another set of three.

The performers (Claire Marshall, Richard Lowdon and Jerry Killick) rotate in the roles of host and contestants, and appear, for the most part, in chicken costumes or their underwear. They are accompanied by canned applause and laughter and blasts of faux dramatic game show music.

No two presentations of the preposterous TV moment are the same. The host ranges from unctuous, fake bonhomie to contemptuous aggression, the contestants from excessive nervousness to bloody-minded obstructiveness.

There is a growing tension between the endless, performative variations and the agonisingly restricted lexicon of the piece. The show is (intentionally) frustrating and hilarious by turns; it is also reminiscent of the strand in modern classical music (for example, the work of Steve Reich) which is built of repetition and variation.

If one applies the term "avant-garde" with historical accuracy (rather than as a culturally conservative term of abuse), it is entirely appropriate to Real Magic. A sideways satire of popular culture, it is as close as you will get to the strident modernism of Cabaret Voltaire (cathedral of Dadaism) in Zurich in 1916.

Over on the Fringe, circus theatre show All Genius All Idiot, by Sweden-based group Svalbard, could almost be a raucous, borderline insane companion piece to Forced Ents' production. Imagine an itinerant, homoerotic, acrobatic circus troupe performing under a bridge among discarded shopping trolleys. Then imagine that they present their brilliant routines to live rock and beat-driven dance music and that the whole thing has been designed by Andy Warhol.

The show is presented on an atmospheric theatrical landscape, a place for misfits, vagabonds and queers. The perfect place, in fact, for English performer and musician Ben Moon Smith (aka Doghead), the beating, Warholesque heart of the piece, who totters around the stage playing electric guitar, and wearing high heels, fake fur and antlers.

Within this audacious, countercultural arena, Smith and his compadres (Tom Brand from Germany, Santiago Ruiz from Spain and John Simon Wiborn from Sweden) deliver a high-octane masterclass in acrobatics. From breathtaking descents on the circus pole, to seemingly impossible rope work, astonishing tumbling and an outrageous human pyramid, these guys do great circus in glittering underpants.

One word of advice, however. If you are lucky enough to get a ticket for their final Fringe show, don't sit in the front row, especially if you're drinking a pint of beer.

Staying with circus theatre for a moment. There's still time to catch No Show (ending at Summerhall today) in which a young, all-female troupe combine superb circus skills with a sobering commentary on the on-going, restrictive sexism they face in the world of popular entertainment. The piece screams out for a bigger performance space, but is well worth a look, nevertheless.

Anyone who has ever seen the famous play White Rabbit Red Rabbit, which was performed all over the world by many different actors, will be intrigued by the latest work by its author, Iranian playwright Nassim Soleimanpour. Simply entitled Nassim, the piece (which is presented at the Traverse by the Bush Theatre of London) inverts the formula of White Rabbit, which gave a voice to the author at a time when he was not permitted to travel.

Now based in Berlin, Soleimanpour wants to connect international audiences with his homeland by having an actor (a different performer each day) present a play which introduces the Farsi language. Like White Rabbit, the piece is new to the actor and read from the page.

Involving delightfully simple and effective use of video and communication technology, Soleimanpour creates a charming connection between himself and the actor (I saw it performed beautifully by Anglo-Nigerian theatre-maker Inua Ellams). Although it seems like an affectionate language lesson, the show catches one by stealth. Ultimately (and in ways it would be criminal to reveal) it is a strikingly gentle, humane and emotive consideration of the experience of an artist living and working in the diaspora.

Soleimanpour's piece is proof that, given an imaginative approach to theatrical form, apparently small shows can be great in psychological, emotional and political reach. This is a lesson that might be applied to two new plays presented as part of the Made In Scotland showcase on the Fringe: Gary McNair's Letters To Morrissey (a likeable and approachable piece which ends at the Traverse today) and The Last Queen Of Scotland (Jaimini Jethwa's work about the experience of Ugandan Asian refugees in Scotland, which closed yesterday).

Extremely modest in form (both are, essentially, prose fictions), they represent a trend in new playwriting in Scotland which, I confess, I find alarming in its lack of theatrical ambition.

Correction: This article has been amended to reflect the fact that, while he does currently live in Berlin, Nassim Soleimanpour is not in exile and is able to return to Iran, which he does regularly