The Pleasance
****
White, Traverse @ Scottish BookTrust
****
The Terrible Tales of the Midnight Chorus, Bedlam Theatre
***
SOAP, Assembly Hall on the Mound
***
Tabu, NoFit State Circus@ ShrubPlace, Leithwalk
****
Even the queue was entertaining. Moppets sporting Charlie and Lola merchandise -- back-packs, T-shirts, lovingly clutched cloth dollies -- were blithely demonstrating their loyalty to Lauren Child’s globally adored creations for all to see (and hear). Adult fans, myself included, who delight in the books and the spin-off TV cartoon series might have wondered if the bouncy anticipation of these little ’uns could possibly be matched by any staged version of the stories. So, absolutely ever so well done to everyone connected with Charlie and Lola’s Best Bestest Play for caring enough to get it spot on, and in such blissfully accurate detail.
Maybe the bestest bit is that young Charlie and his little sister Lola aren’t played by actors pretending to be seven- and four-years-old respectively. Instead, there are life-size puppets -- essentially cut-outs of the familiar drawings -- with recorded voices that catch the genial patience of Charlie’s nature and the irrepressible certainty that powers Lola’s attitude to completely everything.
The four puppeteers, who articulate the movement so meticulously throughout, enter into the quirky spirit of stories that show us a world through the eyes, the imagination and the idiosyncratic logic of Lola.
Adults can smile and nod recognition at the messy bedroom situation that so gets on Charlie’s wick, just like when Lola breaks his prize-winning rocket, and won’t own up, until her imaginary friend Soren Lorenson appears and acts as her inner conscience.
The aged three-and-over fanbase, however, giggle and point in recognition at the extremely possible event of whales taking over the bathtub or tigers demanding to have pink milk -- all reasons why Lola won’t go to bed, and all brought into play with seamless dexterity by the breezy team of four.
As for the scary Ogre who comes out of the bedtime storybook and looks hungry enough to eat little girls -- a combination of shadow work and puppetry ensure squeaks of alarm on all sides.
“I can do magic,” says a happy Lola when, as ever, aided by Charlie, her conjuring trick succeeds. Actually, this show is magic from start to finish, not just when the clouds of butterflies float over us or when the stage is alive with Lola’s vivid fantasies.
Lola might well declare White, the new Catherine Wheels production for two to four-year-olds, to be her “favourite and her best” Fringe show. She’d probably want to live in the delectable all-white set designed by Shona Reppe, a forest of little birdhouses, even a wee tepee for Cotton (Andy Manley) and Wrinkle (Ian Cameron), all in a medley of fabrics and textures with not a smidgeon of colour in sight. When a scrap of green appears, Wrinkle is adamant: “Bin it!” Then it’s back to work, collecting and looking after the white eggs that fall from the sky.
The advent of a red egg unstitches everything, of course. And for a genuinely challenging moment for the early years audience, it looks as if the red egg will be binned. One little lad was appalled and wanted to know “why???” -- proving that even tiddlers can do joined-up ethics and visual metaphors if guided by inspired art.
This truly beautiful show crafts its ideas with a light, but sophisticated touch -- you really can’t suss how the all-white world suddenly blooms into vibrant technicolour, but you can, whatever your age, engage with the joy and wonderment as bird-houses open up in a new-found radiance of rainbow brightness.
Last year, the River People tugged at everyone’s heart strings with Lilly Through the Dark, a young girl’s grief-stricken, and memorably macabre, pursuit of her dead father’s shade in which puppets brilliantly expressed a painful degree of emotional turmoil. The Terrible Tales of the Midnight Chorus, currently at Bedlam, also ventures into nightmare territory but without Lilly’s edge of harrowing sorrow or, indeed, the intricate, innovative staging. It’s cabaret storytelling -- you might think, in passing, Tim Burton crossed with Tiger Lilies, but River People manage to put their own stamp on the bizarre episodes of ghastly horrors and cruelty.
There’s definitely something neatly creepy (and clever) about having one faceless puppet who -- in the turn of a head -- plays most of the characters. The live music is a scene- setting treat that allows the company to keep an impromptu, pared-back feel to the puppet play. And the roister-doister swagger of the performers has a definite charm, probably at its best on the mobile gypsy wagon they now use at outdoor events.
Bathtime may never be the same after energetic kids see Soap! in which some nonchalantly slick acrobats use bathtubs as platforms for balancing acts, juggling and ditsy clowning while an operatic diva trills the heights of kitsch -- without ever getting wet. Unlike some of the other performers.
This is where the “don’t try this at home” phrase kicks in, for this good-natured entertainment turns risky when water makes every surface slippery to the touch.
Risk, and the fear of risk, is what NoFitState Circus embrace, usually at a dizzying height, in Tabu. All kinds of aerial work -- on trapeze, silks, bungee ropes, even a mid-air Chinese Pole -- are delivered at a rapid rate of turnarounds that are matched by the pile-driving rhythms of a rorty live band. And it all flies by, over our heads folks. No, honestly. This is promenade circus where audiences mill around as the action shifts location from one spot to another. Wheee!
Bodies dive-bomb with seemingly carefree abandon. Hurtle and bounce of suspended trampolines. A woman walks her tightrope in high heels, a man drops, like a human stone, down an overhead pole. And it’s all happening beside, behind and above you. No need to run away to join the circus: walk into the fantastic high-flying world of Tabu and you’re already in on the act.
