One sure way to keep a critic sweet

out by publicity-mad thesps. PR supremo Mark Bukowski still holds the

record for Greatest Gimmick for the Archaos stunt involving a

decapitated head in a jack-in-the-box package which left most critics in

a state of quasi-cardiac arrest a few years ago.

This year has so far seen gifts of a handkerchief from Austria's

Theatre YBY for The Pool, their surreal reworking of Othello and

Desdemona; an Oxo cube for Livestock at Theatre Workshop a can of beer

from Alex and Rod's Drinking Games Workshop; a ping-pong ball and a tube

of KY Jelly, nicely wrapped in a ribbon, from Suzy Wong, Human

Cannonball and the self-explanatory Bobby Baker's Shopping Bag.

Japes like this guarantee that the sender will be noticed, if not

rewarded by judicious reviews. After all, critics on this organ are

notoriously impervious to inducements although the Arts Diary can reveal

that the way to a critic's heart is undoubtedly through his/her stomach,

preferably via a sweet tooth.

Complimentary swedgers will invariably merit at least a mention, if

not fawning appreciation. The gift of a bar of French nougat from

Theatre Cryptic, who are staging an adaptation of Francoise Sagan's

Bonjour Tristesse at Theatre Workshop, Bonjour went down a treat, merci

beaucoup, while I'm still a ghastly shade of green over a colleague's

parcel from the Natural Theatre Company. They sent some chocolate

figures of Henry VIII and his wives -- 'Anne Boleyn was particularly

tasty' I am assured -- to publicise . . . but as they neglected to send

the Arts Diary their scrumptious box of chocs I shall neglect to mention

the play and its venue.

Incidentally, my personal integrity will not be offended by such

offerings. I don't see them as blatant bribes but rather thoughtful, nay

necessary, provisions to lighten the load of the weary critic, who will

spend three weeks trotting from show to show, feeding soul but not body

and in desperate need of a life-saving sugar fix.

Companies with any tenuous connection to foodstuffs, e.g., Urban

Strawberry Lunch (hint, hint,) are more than welcome to test their

ingenuity by sending associated gimmicks to the Arts Diary Garret . . .

except the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School, which is staging Three Turds.

Critics are not the only recipients of nourishing extras. The public

can also indulge in a spot of ligging, courtesy of a variety of shows at

the Fringe which include some free nosh in the ticket price, combining

cultural and culinary feasts which could keep you going from dawn to

dusk.

These include; coffee and croissants with Shakespeare for Breakfast at

the Over-Seas House and also with Back In Time for Breakfast at the

Gilded Balloon, coffee and Belgian buns at Continental Brechfest, The B

& B Show at Greyfriars Kirk House, fried ice-cream (sic) at the Honkin'

Hep Cats Breakast at the Pleasance, ice lollies at Incidental Theatre's

children's show Dogman! (not to be confused with Sightlines Theatre

Company's Dogman!, a 'sick and twisted' experiment in terror), hot soup

at The Naked Brunch at the Gilded Balloon, and cucumber sandwiches at

The Importance of Being 2:Earnest at Southside Community Centre.

Alcoholic refreshment is also complementary at the Flip Webster

Ensemble -- whisky -- Alex and Rod's Drinking Games Workshop at

Smugglers bar -- a pint -- and at the storytelling evening of the Scotch

Malt Society's Spirit of Scotland, where, at #12.50 per ticket, the

promise of two drams of a fine Scotch malt, seems only to be expected.

Festival hotspot

* EDINBURGH'S latest hotspot is apparently the Festival Theatre's Cafe

Lucia, with patrons no doubt drawn by the dazzling decor and the

licensed patisserie menu, purveying cask-conditioned ales, fine wines

and luscious tarts.

However the real lure for the city's culture vultures is the cafe's

video wall, comprising nine large screens which monitor any action

taking place onstage. Hard-up but enterprising musos who cannot afford

ticket prices for popular events, such as the Kronos concert of two

weeks ago, are instead shelling out #1.10 for a cappucino and watching

from the comfort of the cafe, courtesy of video techology.

Festival theatre staff are quite equable about this, happy to welcome

the public to use the facility, as long as they observe the theatre's

straight-faced golden rule: No Spitting.

Over the top

* DESPITE the damning reviews for Follow Follow, this entertaining

history of Rangers Football Club continues to pack 'em in, with the

punters making up for the critics' lack of enthusiasm in the most vocal

of ways, the appearance of the Lex McLean character calling Hello,

Hello! invariably rousing a deafening chorus from the audience.

On Saturday evening one group of blue-noses, in the presence of this

paean to their club, became a trifle overexcited.

Having shown up and draped a Union Jack over the balcony they seemed

to be in state of some confusion, with rowdy singsongs more suited to

the terraces than a theatre. This was finally decreed intolerable when

they began gooseing the usherettes, whereupon they were politely

requested to follow, follow the stewards to the front door.