by guest critic Joanna Trainor
“We’re not here for your pleasure.” “Consent is hot.” The Fringe Wives Club need some merch with these slogans on. Glittery Clittery has everything you need for a cult feminist disco, plus a labia costume.
international theatre
The Laundry, Drayton Arms Theatre
by guest critic Amy Toledano
The Laundry is a lovely collaboration of writing by 15 Degrees Theatre that explores womanhood across many generations and across many cultures. Travelling across Europe from Russia, the play begins with two sisters and ends in three stories that will have you wanting to ring your mum the minute it ends.
Power Ballad, Battersea Arts Centre
By guest critic Amy Toledano
Writing a review for this abstract piece of feminist theatre feels almost unnatural, as Julia Croft’s Power Ballad is one that is completely subjective. And while the piece is not exactly to my own person taste, it is plain to see that this is almost the point. It’s certainly understandable how Croft has taken the Fringe world by storm.
The Unbuilt City, King’s Head Theatre
by Laura Kressly
Claudia is a reclusive collector whiling away the time in her Brooklyn Heights townhouse overlooking the East River and lower Manhattan. Jonah is a young writer day jobbing for his old university’s academic archives. He’s been sent to see if Claudia has a priceless item, long thought lost, hidden away in her home. As her life approaches it’s midnight hour, she is desperate to cling to the last thing that gives her some power and Jonah is desperate to win this commission which would financially secure his immediate future.
The Seafarer, Irish Repertory Theatre
by guest critic Steven Strauss
The Seafarer, Conor McPherson’s Olivier Award-nominated play that premiered at the National Theatre in 2006, imagines the plight of humanity as that of lonely sailors lost at sea, teetering on the safe, dry deck of morality above treacherously immoral waters. No matter how far you roam, the Devil that is your sins of the past can always find you. Walking on water isn’t a foreign concept to celestial entities. A reckoning will come, and spiritual debts must be paid.
Faust, Theatertreffen
by guest critic Maeve Campbell
On entering a seven-hour long production one might ask the following questions: will I understand the plot, will I be able to sit through it for the duration and will it be worth the plane journey, holiday costs and copious amounts of pilsner consumed over the weekend? The answers are no and no but, to the last question, a resounding yes. Directed by the controversial Frank Castorf, famously ousted as leader of the Volksbühne theatre after nearly fifteen years of service, this production is his swan-song. Castorf’s previous work has been described as ‘deliberately incoherent’, and this Faust does not disappoint.
Returning to Reims, Theatertreffen
by guest critic Maeve Campbell
The audience enters the Schaubuhne theatre to voyeuristically inspect the inane musings of two men, protected by the glass of a recording booth at the back of a beautifully brown, wood-panelled studio. This space provides the backdrop for an extended examination of European class politics through reading and discussion of French sociologist Didier Eribon’s memoir, a surprise best-seller in Germany last year.
One Green Bottle, Soho Theatre
by guest critic Meredith Jones Russell
Princess the dog is pregnant, and someone needs to stay in to look after her, but father Bo, mother Boo and daughter Pickle all want to go out.
So far, so straightforward, you might think. But the chaos that follows in One Green Bottle, including but by no means limited to a chair through a TV set, a key down a toilet, Mickey Mouse, a disembowelled sheep and an awful lot of chains, might suggest otherwise.
We Live By the Sea, 59E59
by guest critic Steven Strauss
Even in the current march towards greater representation across the arts for all marginalized communities, people with learning disabilities too often find themselves on the outside always looking in, literally. Though their stories have graced stages and screens throughout the years, they’re often performed by actors not personally afflicted with the depicted disabilities.
Disco Pigs, Irish Rep
by guest critic Steven Strauss
So there used to be this movie theater in New York City that always made me laugh by insisting on including subtitles over movies IN ENGLISH, albeit those with heavy accents. Let’s just say that this multiplex’s average clientele was of a certain age, and their diminished hearing required some help in understanding strong dialects of any kind from every corner of the world.
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