I’ve been under the weather somewhat since the end of Fringe. First my throat, then after what seemed like a full recovery, bam, my sinuses mutinied, usually the two run alongside a wee while before passing the baton. Not this time, just far enough apart for some false hope, but also a chance to the Scat Rats on Wednesday midnight at Whistlebinkies; by seven the following evening I was in no fit state to see the Rats again in Stramash, boo. At least I had the immense pleasure of a spur of the moment rendition of Fantastic Man (a song by William Onyeabor that Logan’s Close made a cover video of during one of the lockdowns), I do hope they play it again sometime.
The last couple of days Facebook memories have reminded me that it’s the time when I’ve previously announced the Brucies. What’s the Brucies? They’re the Bruce on the Fringe Fringe Awards, I was inspired after attending the ACMS Awards in 2022 (a silly, nonsensical, absurd event hosted by the Tuck); so just a light-hearted look back at my Fringe (it didn’t happen last year, those reading my blog at the time know why). And so without further ado…
Mesdames et monsieurs, ceux entre et ceux au-delà, bienvenue! The awards that nobody asked for, and mean absolutely nothing to anyone (except the little mooselets in my head), I give you the Bruce on the Fringe Fringe Awards 2025. Ta-dar!!
The Sublime: The Other Mozart
Most August: Thom Tuck
Best Veg-Rom-Dram: Tale of a Potato
Best Supporting Sidekick: Swimothy
Best Evening in an Afternoon: An Evening with Dame Granny Smith
Best Badge: Will & Noah: Too Much Time on Their Phones
Most Suave and he knows it: Troy Hawke
Best Musical Moments (all the nominations and the winner): Rob Kemp (Beatlesjuice and The Elvis Dead)
Best Use of a Building Since it was Public Swimming Baths: Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine
The Inevitable Award: Bad Clowns: Long Live the King
The Gromit Trophy: Iago in Iago Speaks up until Iago spoke
Oddest thing on the Cowgate: The Mothman Cometh-ing towards me
The Stuff of Nightmares: Aidan Pittman dressed as The Childcatcher
The Ridiculous: God’s Longest
And there you go, from the sublime, through to the ridiculous.
The line of giant posters down the side of the Pleasance was taken down today, there’s still a few boards fastened around streetlights and traffic signs, not noticeable unless you look directly at one. Instagram posts have shown Fringe folk leaving Edinburgh, returning home. Was it a farewell hug that left me with a sneaky little present? … my throat has been threatening me for the last three days, it may be winning. It really started niggling late Tuesday night but I wasn’t going to not see The Scat Rats at Binkies at midnight, a nice final bookend to my Fringe. Hell, I hadn’t seen them all August! It was right at the start of the Fringe when I saw them in Stramash (hence bookends).
My Fringe proper finished with two class acts, that wonderful class antipodean Dame Granny Smith followed by Mr Tuck’s sublime Scaramouche Jones. Hahaha, can’t believe I didn’t spot that before, Smith and Jones, in the same afternoon (certain age groups will put Alas and Alias before those two names to make a couple of great tv series from once upon a time). Both shows had full audiences, marvellous, fringing to the very end.
An Evening with Dame Granny Smith was so so lovely and bittersweet, almost nostalgic for something past. And DavidSalter, such a lovely, talented guy, a saint for putting up with her! Mind, it’s easy to get swept up in the Dame’s aura, the afternoon’s participating audience member really got into the role and I think went over and beyond what Salter was expecting (from his reaction, anyway). I’m very glad I caught the show, that early afternoon time had a lot going on that I fancied this year, too many annoying five, ten minute overlaps (oh, to have Hermione’s watch).
I managed to grab a quick pic with the Dame, before heading over to the Big Yurt (I’m not sure if she was all agog to meet me or silently screaming in fear of being eaten)
As I walked through the Potterow Underpass I heard a hearty laugh ahead, oh yay! I’d know that laugh anywhere, Will Seaward was in the queue for Scaramouche Jones; how marvellous to bump into him again! (Had to get a pic, of course) The old clown himself, Scaramouche Jones, was mingling wordlessly with the milling crowd (I fancied to ask for a quick photo with him, but time was short, and I felt a tad unworthy).
Oh, Scaramouche Jones is a most marvellous tale. ThomTuck holds the audience in the palm of his hand, entranced, as he recounts Scaramouche’s one hundred years. Truly it could have been written for him, Tuck is so brilliant in the part, and I say this having seen him play it ten years ago, a performance that has stuck in my mind since (I look forward to seeing it again in 2035). It would be a marvellous thing if one performance had been filmed each decade passed, how wonderful to see the progression 💛
I also paid another visit to the final performance of Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine at Dovecot Studios on the Sunday afternoon. Now I could be wrong but I think one of the guys from Crybabies was in the audience; such a shame they couldn’t make it up with their new production. This time round I saw the overall arc better over the sketches; I must say, those two have amazing voice control for the length of their woahs between bits (that probably reads really weird, but if you ever get to see Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine you’ll know what I mean). Sometimes shows can seem to overally point out their own cleverness, Finlay and Joe don’t do that, the funny flows naturally and abundantly with these two – and they were lovely when I asked for a photo with them!
While I’m on a roll here (the Chilean Gewürztraminer I opened is helping somewhat!) I’ll mention The Mothman Cometh, that I saw in the final week. It was amongst my cuttings and then I noticed him on a few occasions flitting madly around the Cowgate early evening, odd and kinda sweet, and occasionally on the Half Price Hut list. I hadn’t been in The Subway in donkeys (for many years), some bits were very familiar, like the stage area (back last century it was a place to go after an evening shift in Pizza Hut, with tips enough for a couple of drinks).
I’d vaguely heard of the Mothman myth, and my sightings of this strange creature, well, I had to go find out more. It was very dark in there! A lot of the time we could just see two red circles and hear his voice, only a mere hint of his body shape in the misty darkness. He was troubled by odd glitches when pop songs would burst out of him, and a strange Void was always close by, but despite these troubles the Mothman was actually a benign, humorous creature that just wanted friends that understood him. Oh, that sounds a tad maundling, TheMothman Cometh was very funny with plenty of audience participation, you just had to be willing to embrace the surreality.
It’s very late, again! Edinburgh Farmers Market in the morning, I must to sleep. Next time I’ll wrap up this year’s Fringe, oo, maybe even some awards! It will be my 499th blog post, who’d have thunk it!
The end is nigh! Well, another twenty four hours of fizzle out. Tonight I’m off to the final ACMS though whether I’ll last until the end is debatable. I’m kinda shattered, physically and spiritually, and I haven’t written anything since Thursday.
Oh, The Elvis Dead was bloody brilliant! Plenty turned out to see it (pretty please, can we have a performance every Fringe?) and had a whale of a time. Kemp’s voice is much more suited to singing like Elvis than the Fab Four.
And I caught the final Beatlesjuice last night, so glad I bought a ticket in advance (it was a PWYC) the room was packed out (I spotted John-Luke Roberts was there). Rob Kemp‘s lyrics are so good and it’s as funny whether there’s a lamer line to fit in or an absolute gem. I look forward to how Beatlesjuice will look next year, but I’ve loved seeing these early ramshackle performances, what utter pleasure!! 💛
I’d just seen John-Luke Roberts: WIP that morning in the Monkey Barrel, another very busy show; really the man is so naturally hilarious, no one who’s seen him before would be put off by those initials W.I.P. it’s all a joy. No doubt he’ll show up at some point this evening at the ACMS.
Oo, maybe John Robertson will make an appearance tonight too! I saw him yesterday too, Playing with the Audience in the Counting House, manically gleeful as ever. It seems like having reached another of life’s milestones, he’s determined to show that he can still throw his body about and do dumb things – like climbing up onto narrow ledges, high ledges, next year it’ll be one of the chandeliers!! The picture – I know I’ve remarked how some Fringe stages are too low for anyone past the first couple of rows, but that’s a bit ridiculous!
Spot my little joke here? That’s what I thought it said on glancing through the Fringe programme without my reading glasses on! Couldn’t resist! An excellent show, Alex Berr was very engaging as she told us how she came to work in science and with mice in order to cure cancer, only to find out later her mother had the same cancer that she’d been working on. Berr balanced sombre subjects with great humour, kinda matter-of-fact but with a quirkiness.
Heading towards Bristo Square, I overheard two older gents behind me discussing where to go for a drink, Bristo Square?Too noisy and plastic. Teviot Row and the Library Bar? Much nicer. I did briefly consider not saying anything, no, no, come on now; so I turned round and mentioned it was closed for renovation, they thanked me and headed elsewhere to find a pint in a glass. Ah, good deed done for the day!
I was actually going to the Mosque Kitchen for a chicken bhuna and rice (rather nice!), then across to the Counting House for Stand-up Philosophy with the most genial of hosts Alex Farrow with guest stand-ups Omar Badawy and Daman Bamrah. An entertaining and interestingly informative hour.
I had already seen Alex Farrow: New Order and, as usual, thoroughly enjoyed myself (Stand-up Philosophy is like a diluted version of Farrow’s own show), as we were treated to a flowing stream of philosophical thoughts with babbles of hilarity. There’s always some cracking anecdote from Farrow’s teaching days, this one’s a real doozy! His broken vacuum cleaner story had me nodding in recognition, he is one of us. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
How happy was I to see Rob Kemp was back with a new show, Beatlesjuice? And how happy am I that he’s putting on a one-off performance of the Elvis Dead this afternoon at four thirty? Very, very happy! But Beatlesjuice, oh my heartses, it’s soooo good! Now I should clarify, this is very much a WIP (Work In Progress) but I loved it with all it’s flaws (I actually saw it last week when Kemp was still figuring a lot out, I expect by now it’s a lot smoother, but more fun? nah).
If you’ve seen The Elvis Dead, it’s a similar premis with Beetlejuice retold through Beatles music with Kemp’s lyrics and onscreen moments from the film. Kemp’s lyrics are so bang on, you’re laughing at the humour and marvelling at his genius wit at the same time. Yes, it has a way to go, but it was perfectly imperfect! Beatlesjuice had my face grinning and my soul singing ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Just time to mention another show, saw it last night, another bullseye for my Fringe-dar. Iago Speaks is Shakespeare Meets Meta. It has the wordplay of a Shakespeare play, wonderful comic acting and a tricksy meta-ness that kept me enthralled. The Jailer was a wonderful character, yin to Iago’s yang, and he does talk an awful lot, well, the play does start after Iago swore he’d never speak again, but like Gromit he doesn’t need words for us to know he’s thinking. Oh, Iago does eventually speak but definitely with a forked tongue. I knew how it would end, yes, the end and then the very end, but the journey there was amazing theatre ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Time for a spot of lunch, methinks. Should I cook or go out?
When I saw the puffin on the poster I knew I’d go see Stuart Laws Is Stuck, yes, I’m a sucker for a puffin, and a comedy/murder/mystery with a puffin? I immediately thought, the puffin did it, why? Did you see Dr Dolittle Kills a Man last year? The puffin turned out to be the big bad, so this time round I’d be ready.
Our guy is the only human on an island inhabited by 1004 puffins, he took the job of caretaker after a bad break-up; but one of the puffins is missing, Titus. Oh yeah, they all have names, and he can talk to them, and they talk back (Kate Hammer is hilarious as puffins Milo, Angie and D’Angelo). Missing becomes possibly murdered as Stuart investigates and soon things start to unravel…. And if you’re not 100% paying attention you may get lost in it all!
The show swaps between the story on Puffin Island and stand-up in the Fringe Venue; there are prompts to know the swaps, not always obvious to folk sat further back (another time when a slightly higher stage would help!) As the puffin mystery is being solved we start to become aware that there’s something else behind it all, the clues are in the stand-up. Oh, there’s more levels here than first meet the eye, all well constructed and well written, and Laws and Hammer are great together. If you do see this, don’t just put aside the cards on some seats, it’s excellent artwork depicting the characters, Milo is adorable! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
From puffins to potatoes, Batisfera are back with another short play Tale of a Potato to enchant, bemuse and leave us mulling over our own human nature. The stage is a square wooden table with just one light, Valentina Fadda presides over all as narrator, voices, puppeteer and knife-wielder (some of those veg are trouble!), oh, and bringer of sight (nails for eyes! ironic for a potato). She had the audience spell-bound as she told the story of a potato called Protagonist.
We follow Protagonist’s through his life, loves, trials and tribulations, and by god, we feel for that little fellow before the end. There’s a supporting cast of a variety of vegetables, including an antagonistic aubergine. The show may only be half an hour long but there’s a lot packed in there; Fadda’s voice and this little table-top world, take us through a gamut of emotions. It’s profound and whimsical and will dwell with you long after ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
Batisfera are also performing The Gummy Bears’ Great War again – and you thought vegetables were small to perform with! I loved it, but be warned, if you felt for Protagonist, those little bears may leave you floored.
Time for one more before I head out to Binkies for some late night sounds. A fish called Swimothy, no, it’s not called that, mind his role has gotten rather bigger than it was in Moon Team IIIV at the start of the Edinburgh Fringe in 2024, he even has a song this year (I’m pretty certain that wasn’t there last time!?). Will BF has said that this is a fully finished copy, hmmm, we’ll see. Moon Team IIIV has been tweaked, rejigged, upgraded, but it’s still as silly and bonkers as it was, still with the talking head mockumentary parts intertwining with the action on stage. Will Will ever truly settle on a completed version? Will Swimothy become tyrannical and take over the whole film? It’s funny, it’s highly entertaining and totally Fringe ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
Next time, a little philosophy and a guy into a black and white striped suit. Toodle pip!
It’s the start of the third week, the final Monday for some, as the majority of shows will finish sometime this weekend with only a few going through to the bitter end that is the English bank holiday Monday. I have one show definitely lined up for it (if you’ve been paying attention you’ll know the one) and that might actually be it for the last day. The day after the end Thom Tuck has proposed an unrehearsed read-through of the second half of The Princess Bride (it was started the end of last year’s Fringe and halfway was as far as it got). The first half was an hilarious hotch-potch, so I may well meander along (the triangle bit of seating across from the Pleasance Dome).
If you’re thinking I haven’t been mentioning many shows recently, sorry, my bad, it’s a strange balancing act, enjoying time Fringing and making time to write about it, the last couple of years seem to have dunted my Fringe focus and stamina, or maybe I’m just getting old and jaded, haha. I’ve also been slightly overwhelmed by emails popping up from Fringe shows inviting me along to review them, like, huh? It is flattering to be asked, but as I keep reiterating, I’m not a professional reviewer, I’d hate for someone to expect a fancy highfalutin review and then read my musings. Of course, that would kind of point out that they’d not actually read my blog, haha.
As I received more emails, I realised that there’s a good chance that it’s a standard invite with my name at the top (well, that would explain some stuff), phew, relief. A friend told me that those emails aren’t particularly expecting replies unless it’s yes, please. So I’m very sorry to anyone who has taken the time to email me, but hasn’t heard back, yet. And who’s to say my musings would have put any more bums on seats, anyway?
I had to go out at that time. Carl Marah was playing at the St James Quarter Sessions, excellent as usual. An intimate setting in the top foyer/bar area with a small but very attentive audience. Now it’s time for the Moanin’ Bones at Stramash followed by Carl (again!) at the Cow Shed. A rather fine evening there!
I had no tickets booked for yesterday, just as well, seeing as the night before I was in Whistlebinkies right until the bouncers started herding everyone towards the exits. The Louis Crosland Trio were playing from midnight, three sets, I couldn’t bring myself to leave! Yeah, Friday morning didn’t happen much apart from the absolutely necessary stuff. Some washing up was done, well I needed a few clean mugs and a clean wok for another stir-fry tea. It really wasn’t a fringey sort of day….
Late afternoon I spotted the marvellous Carl Marah playing in the latest incarnation under George IV Bridge so, naturally, I had to pop in. It’s back to being called the Cow Shed and I must say I like what they’ve done, and there’s a couple of Stewart’s ales on tap (a tad pricey, but hey). Surprisingly Carl didn’t have another gig to get to until much later in the evening, so we caught up a while, and saw a wonderful wee band Andrea Carlson & the Love Police, like wow, gorgeous sounds! Sitting there in a pop-up bar, good company and a band playing retro swing tunes, mmm, a pure Fringe moment. I stayed for their full set (I’ll definitely be paying more attention to the board listing the acts, as I go past) then headed out on to Cowgate.
Bless my cotton socks! What in the Fringe did I see? That master of spooky storytelling, Will Seaward, yays! Big hugs! One of the loveliest humans who ever played the Fringe (we first met twelve years ago when he flyered me and my friends on the last night of the Fringe for a midnight show – we went!) What a lovely catch-up, Will always did have a highly infectious joie de vivre! Then, not two minutes later below South Bridge was Will BF putting up posters for Moon Team IIIV (just recently started, on until Sunday 24th). Another catch-up with another of my Fringe favourites, a mighty fine day. It was well after nine before I started on my stir fry (then crashed asleep on the couch).
A mention back to the marvellously talented Carl Marah, he’s playing a set of his own tunes at the St James Quarter Sessions on Monday 18th afternoon. It’s free but ticketed, tickets can be got through the St James Quarter app, I’ve got mine! It says he’s playing at the Everyman cinema, so that’ll be me in there for the first time. Oh, and this evening I’m going to check out a free Fringe act that Carl really likes, unlike his friends who he’s taken along in past Fringes! I’ll let you know how it goes.
Must pop out to buy some nice bread, nice bread because I bought some scallops at the Farmers Market this morning, only nice bread goes with scallops.
Finally yesterday morning there were only the lightest of breezes, so I took myself off to the Park and up Moose Ridge. There was a wildfire up over the other side of Arthur’s Seat on Crow Hill a few days ago, great plumes of smoke could be seen for miles! Of course, the most popular joke was that the volcano had come back to life (Arthur’s Seat is a very old very extinct volcano), I had intended to go and check out the damage. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten my water so at the top of Moose Ridge (I’m gonna keep calling it that until it catches on), I took Pipers Walk back down, and home via Old WoodCafe at St Leonard’s to try their Eggs Benedict, not bad.
The afternoon saw me stepping into the darkness of the Banshee Labyrinth Cinema Room to bear witness to The Night Mouth. I had no idea what to expect, certainly not the Childcatcher! Ye gods, the stuff of nightmares, oh, and two school dinner ladies from hell (Lady Bolognese) popped in. Silly, and comically disturbing, mind, it was Pittman and Hughes behind it; and as you can’t have too much of a good thing, I later popped into Carbon to see God’s Longest again (it was the last of three shows, and being impro it’s always different). Hmmm, some folk’s deepest, darkest secrets really should remain secret!
My childhood trauma came a-knocking!
Evening time found me at that fine old institution the Bedlam Theatre to see Eelmageddon by Intrepid Fools. Yes, it’s as it sounds, the imminent end of the world as we know it, brought about by eels (some days looking at the news, would it be that surprising?!). Only a mad scientist and his assistant stand in their way, one wants to understand them, the other wants to eat them; but they’re running out of time and the super secret underwater science bunker is developing cracks.
Eelmageddon is a laugh-out-loud comedy with a great plotline running through the silliness, and oh, Mother Eel is a fine big bad with a voice to send chills through her enemies (it had me back to watching Dr Who as a young calf). For a small theatre company, they’ve put together a great show, just one thing grated by the end (and if they’re reading this, I bet they know what I’m going to say) – the professor’s voice, obviously a well-travelled scientist as the accent went everywhere and beyond, which, yes does have comedy value, but for me it tipped over into grating. Sorry, that’s just me, but I did love the creativity of Intrepid Fools, their comedy, the sound and lighting (a lot more important to making a production well-rounded than many realise, but then, if you don’t notice, then job well done!), and a cracking song to end on, what great voices! This is grassroots theatre, I look forward to whatever they do next. ⭐️⭐️⭐️½
That’s enough from me for now, I have another show to see. Toodle pip!
I pondered lonely as a moose
[Edit. It helps if I press the Publish button twice as instructed!]
Today is the day that many Fringe shows with full runs take off, and it’s not bad at all out there. It is rather cloudy but the winds have abated down to breezes, and it’s a nice 20°ish. Pretty good for a scottish summer! I did a proper big shop earlier, think I’m still buoyed up from last night at the Jazz Bar. I had a grand time enjoying some quality blues and rock’n’roll from The Blueswater, always a blast! A little sad though, as it reminded me how much I miss seeing Nicole and the Back-up Crew and The Buccaneers playing in Stramash, ah well, times move on. But back to the present, and the near future, there’s just two more chances to catch The Blueswater this Fringe, that’s on Thursday 14th and Sunday 24th (see the Fringe out with a bang, why not?) at eleven o’clock in the Jazz Bar.
One chap who’s not resting up at all this Fringe is the lovely Alex Farrow (in fact in the absence of Mr Goatley, Alex may be the loveliest person on the Fringe now, hmmm, I’ll have to recalibrate). He’s back with a new show Alex Farrow: New Order, as well as his two usual, hosting Stand-up Philosophy and featuring in Stand-up Science; he’s also directing a play at the Pleasance Courtyard! Busy, busy! He did tell me it’s name when I ran into him last week, but no, it’s gone (there’ll probably be an edit here later!).
Oops, just popped out a while there! I noticed one of my post-it notes had a mention of a free Fringe show starting very shortly, so I legged it up to Carbon on the Cowgate to see God’s Longest, I didn’t actually remember anything about it, but I’d written it down, so I obviously wanted to see it. Ah ha, it’s Aidan Pittman and Hudson Hughes (Dr Dolittle Kills a Man) along with Anand Sankar and Alex Berr doing improv, very surreal improv; this is improv that runs down rabbit holes with manic glee. They’re all very funny and watching them bouncing off each other, wow, pure joy, the situations and characters they conjured up were brilliantly bonkers ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
And on bonkers, (hmm, does that need re-wording?! nope, it stays) I tootled along to see Will & Noah: Too Much Time on Their Phones at the Underbelly, Bristo Square. Oh, they had me at the opening sketch of skimming stones; as someone who cannot pass by any stretch of water without looking down to find a flat stone, this was hilarious (and please can I borrow that sound effect to make myself feel better about my own attempts?). Will BF has a silly streak a mile long, and sharing a stage with Noah Geelan, well, the pair take silly to new levels, I would give the finding things on the floor of a nightclub sketch as prime evidence, it went there and beyond! Audience participation is plentiful and the day I went the audience were very game. The Where’s Wally sketch was an absolute hoot; and when they started on the final furlong, it was like a mad dash of the callbacks to reach the finish line. Just bonkers! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
So far Edinburgh has had pretty good temperatures this Fringe (touch wood!), but I do wish all the crazy winds would calm down. See, I like to have my windows open a smidgen in summer, but even only having the top sash down a wee bit will result in all my Fringe cuttings being strewn everywhere whenever I’m out awhile. No, I can’t put them away, really. Back home from the Farmer’s Market, I picked the latest windfalls, oh, the picture of James Barr looked reproachfully back at me, oops. It had been right at the front to remind me, yeah, let’s do it….
James Barr: Sorry I Hurt Your Son (Said My Ex to My Mum) was at the Fringe last year, I remember pondering on seeing it, but never went. Time to give it a shot, and yes, another success for my Fringe-dar! James Barr opens up to the audience about his life and the domestic abuse he suffered in a four year relationship; it sounds like quite a personal and harrowing subject for a Fringe comedy show, but Barr injects plenty of quips and wit into his narrative. This is his story and he tells it well; he would take us down into the darkness, then neatly bring us back up with a deliciously funny quip, a roller-coaster of a show! I walked out feeling quite buoyed up, and I got a badge too! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
How times change, in years past the Pleasance Courtyard and Dome were regular features on my Fringe Calendar, especially during the previews, but last year I saw nothing at all at the Pleasance Dome and this year there’s been one (I’d say, so far, but that could well be the only one). Mind, that one was great fun! Up the stairs in the King Dome is Alasdair Beckett-King: King of Crumbs, oo, three kings there! Wow, an hour packed full of laugh-out-loud one liners, surreal silliness, a dollop of whimsy, and, as he called them, some “sad jokes”. There were plenty of nice little call-backs and a continuing phone gag that just kept on giving! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
It’s late, again, but I mentioned last time that I’d report on Scaramouche Jones – it’s brilliant! And it’s on until the very last day of the Fringe (excluding Monday 11th), I may well be back, ‘twould be a great way to round off my Fringe. The part could have almost been written for Thom Tuck, he inhabits it so well; and the Big Yurt, with it’s makeshift nature, is the perfect setting for this picaresque tale. It’s a story that spans the twentieth century, an old clown has just come off stage from his final performance and speaks for the first time in fifty years as the time ticks towards the final midnight of 1999, the first stroke of which will be exactly a hundred years since Scaramouche’s birth on a fishmonger’s slab in Port of Spain.
The script is full of vibrant descriptions of the places and people in Scaramouche’s life, and Tuck’s lustrous tones paint them even more vividly, his talent for accents comes in as Scaramouche journeys around the world meeting all manner of people. When Tuck expresses young Scaramouche’s delight in knowing his father was an Englishman, his youthful pomposity is sweetly hilarious. There’s so much to love about this production – I’m already looking forward to seeing Scaramouche Jones in ten years time! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Bruce on the Fringe 