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THE BLOODY BALLAD Foot-stompin’ gig with dramatic interludes ●●●●● HOW TO BE A MODERN MARVEL A vintage Tupperware party ●●●●●

THE EVENTS A look at the aftermath of an atrocity ●●●●●

A redneck, rockabilly gig-cum-musical, The Bloody Ballad tells the story of Mary (Lucy Rivers), a Southern gal whose upbringing has left her with scars both physical and emotional. Salvation seems to arrive in the form of Connor, a swaggering young chap whose family have just moved into the neighbourhood, but just as the couple’s happiness seems assured, a series of events drenched in blood and moonshine put paid to their plans. Rivers and her band are fantastic musical

performers, and while their acting skills are perhaps less refined, the format of the production almost a straight-up gig, with dramatic interludes lends itself well to their skill set. The plot hares along for the most part, and despite some close-to-the-bone songs such as ‘What My Daddy Done (in A Minor)’, you’ll sometimes find yourself wishing for something that lives up to the high standard set by Nick Cave, who pretty much cornered the market on murder ballads. Still, these are minor quibbles in a show that abounds with verve and character.

Bear in mind though despite its foot-stompin’ soundtrack, some scenes make for uncomfortable viewing. You’ve been warned. (Niki Boyle) Assembly Roxy, 623 3030, until 25 Aug (not 12, 19), 7.45pm, £12–£14 (£10–£12).

There’s something rather charming about How To Be a Modern Marvel. On the surface, the audience are treated to a sales pitch that could have escaped from a 1960s time capsule, complete with three beautifully mannered, idealised women. Things aren’t quite as they appear, with status turmoil between the three women who begin to come across more like sisters of The Stepford Wives. If the play lacks plot, all three women are a pleasure

to spend time with. Technically, the audience are watching a 45-minute live advert for imaginary ‘Marvel’ products, while the aspects of the women’s true characters only emerge in occasional fragments. But their beautiful outfits and overly sincere manners take the audience back into a nostalgic mist that only slowly evaporates with slight discussions about the conflict between the old and the new.

Maybe the production would have benefited from a sharper script that explored women’s place in political and working society after the second world war, especially in the light of feminism’s advances in subsequent decades. However, what’s on show is a pleasant enough experience with three delightful performances. (Michael Cox) Institut francais d’Ecosse, 225 5366, until Aug 26 (not 12, 19), 4.30pm, £10 (£8).

Claire is a priest who leads a choir that welcomes vulnerable individuals. One eventful day a gunman bursts in during practice and kills several of the group. In the aftermath Claire attempts to understand what has happened.

In David Greig’s latest work for the stage he deftly brings a local choir into the performance, weaving their songs between scenes which explore Claire’s anger, confusion and grief. The Events is technically accomplished, with excellent performances from its two leads. Rudi Dharmalingham, in particular, is convincing playing the culprit, Claire’s psychologist and a local politician to name a few, opposite Neve McIntosh’s traumatised priest.

The choir, whose repertoire ranges from traditional hymns to a rendition of Dizzee Rascal’s ‘Bonkers’, adds emotion and at times a much-needed delicacy to the play. But overall Greig finds little new ground here, posing the same questions so many artists and writers have explored before, yet struggling to find new emotional or intellectual insight. This isn’t helped by the tragicomic tone which, instead of adding poignancy, here appears to prevent the piece ever reaching it. (Gail Tolley) Traverse, 228 1404, until 25 Aug (not 12, 19), times vary, £18–£20 (£6–£15).

THE EPICENE BUTCHER AND OTHER STORIES FOR CONSENTING ADULTS Lo-fi, high-concept Japanese storytelling ●●●●●

‘Before Pokemon, before Manga, before Hentai, there was . . .’ are the words written up on a blackboard at the start of this unusual show, correctly described in its press release as an ‘oddity’. Kamishibai is a form of lo-fi 1930s street entertainment from Japan; the word means ‘paper play’. Alongside her comely schoolgirl assistant, the colourful figure of Jemma Khan arrives on stage armed with a set of simple cardboard images which she displays through a wooden box, entertaining the audience with a frame-by-frame comic strip.

And entertaining it certainly is, but not for kids: cannibalism is the subject of the titular story The Epicene Butcher, which is about a chef whose taste for the finest choices of meat drives him to seek out cuisine involving human flesh.

Unfortunately, the chef falls for the girl he hopes to cook,

leading to a grisly but satisfying finale. The other stories deal with pornography, what cats dream about when they’re in heat, the devastation after the nuclear explosion at Fukushima and all number of other surprising subjects. One is billed as ‘for perverts’ and has highly explicit content, but the show doesn’t rely on sex as a selling point, instead conveying an off-kilter energy in a Twilight Zone-meets-Studio Ghibli fashion. The final story is related in Japanese, yet somehow still gets the message across. The stories, by Gwydion Beynon, often have a classical feel, like Zen master parables but interpreted through the mind of a teenager hopped-up on Manga cartoons. The result is weird, but also rather wonderful to behold. Not for everyone, but a fresh and decidedly original addition to the Fringe’s outer-limits. (Eddie Harrison) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 26 Aug, (not 12) 7.20pm, £12–£13 (£11–£12).

8–15 Aug 2013 THE LIST FESTIVAL 81