FestivalNoticeboard NewsGossipOpinion

Visit list.co.uk/festival for daily arts & entertainment news THE LIST AWARDS, FESTIVAL 2009

Festival insider Comedian Jeff Kreisler offers some tips to help you survive and thrive in Edinburgh

convincing. You don’t actually have to attend, but you’ll have shone a little light into an otherwise dark vacuum of despair and self-loathing. If you can help one person make it through another hour on the Royal Mile without stabbing a pensioner, well, you’ve certainly done more for your country than Fred Goodwin. Walk in a straight line at a reasonable pace. Or, if you prefer to

assimilate to August

Edinburgh culture,

Look both ways before you cross the street. True, many of the crossings in this town of dragons and wizards are cluttered with the impenetrable detritus of road works for a tram system that might get you to the airport five minutes faster than the buses you already have (money well spent!) but, on the off chance you do want to cross, look before you leap! Don’t be fooled by the peripheral visions of other people moving next to or across from you. These are professional street-crossers from New York City. You cannot do what they do. Be safe, get off your mobile, and look both ways. (This doesn’t seem to apply if you’re pushing baby carriages). Take a flyer from someone and say you’re definitely going to his or her show. Be

meander in a wide group on a narrow sidewalk, stopping randomly to look around, wonder where you’re going, or knock someone carrying props for his one-man-Shakespeare-meets- Star-Trek-mime-revue into the street. It’s a game oblivious people play called ‘Piss Off Everyone.’ Hug a comedian. By this time, about 20% of us are genuinely happy (those who came here without ambition, a PR, or an agent’s assistant who insists on wearing lanyards everywhere). The rest have either a) enjoyed critical and economic success (‘delusional’ 8%), b) have just realized it’ll take 20 sellouts in the last 9 shows to break even (‘desperate’ - 60%) or c) are spiritually and artistically satisfied (‘delusional again’ 12%). Seriously, we give you laughter; please return the love. Take a nap in the park below the Castle. Eat lunch at the Mussel Inn. Sit outside and share a table and some nibbles with strangers. Go see something at the Traverse. Comedy has unfortunately sort of taken over this Fringe Festival (boo. Seriously, boo). The most reliable theatre gems are at the Traverse. Go see something you would never see in your life. Sketch comedy, dance, puppetry. Embrace your fear and open you mind. Free Fringe shows. Try out two. Won’t cost nothing, might be an inspiration. Jeff Kreisler’s Get Rich Cheating, The Stand, until 30 Aug, 4.55pm at His book is available in paperback from HarperCollins. Show most likely to help you bond with fellow audience members: Internal, Mercule Point Hotel, whether you make new friends or need a support group. Best comedic guilt trip involving an Irishman in a penguin outfit: A Betrayal of Penguins, Sweet ECA. Most exciting depiction of chicken sex: Chauntecleer and Pertelotte, Zoo Southside. We’re taking our theatre editor’s word for it. Most heartbreaking use of a father’s predilection for dressing up like a lady: Everything Must Go, Augustines. One woman’s lovely tribute to her deceased dad. In drag. Room where comedy critics feel least welcome: Underbelly’s Delhi Belly. One of Susan Harrison’s characters is an embittered and hateful reviewer, while the sound guy for Tiernan Douieb announced (with a reviewer present) that reviews meant far less than word of mouth. We’re coping. Sniff. Most wince-inducing use of a scarlet stiletto: The S&M number in C!rca, Assembly@Assembly Hall. Yeouch. Prop most likely to impart salmonella: One Up One Down, Zoo. Where a raw chicken deputises for a toddling baby. Most gratuitous nudity on the part of a puppet: Puppet Grinder Cabaret at Assembly. We didn’t need to see that. Most-spotted celebrity: It’s a toss up between Amanda Palmer (pictured, who’s been deliberately courting stalkers as she moves around Edinburgh) and Lionel Blair (we don’t think he’s doing it deliberately, but the boy is everywhere).

TAKE 5 We salute five groups preserving the original spirit of the Fringe, off the Fringe

Serenade street parade At 9.59pm on Friday night last, from a location revealed 24 hours earlier, a renegade parade set out to paint the town red. The word on the street and on the net was to bring hula hoops, stilts, noise- makers, bedecked umbrellas, discreet refreshments . . . and to play nicely. Were you there?

tePooka Somewhere in Edinburgh is a Big Red Door with a festival going on behind it. You won’t find tePooka in the Fringe program, but they’ve got performances and events running throughout the month, and a ‘shadowy hall of broken-mirror dreams’. Intrigued? Visit www.tepooka.org/festival.htm. West Port Book Festival A far cry from the pushy old ladies currently thronging Charlotte Square in hope of a photo op with Carol Ann Duffy, the second annual West Port Book Festival offered four days of free events from a series of second hand bookshops and bars in ‘Edinburgh’s Soho’.

Forest Fringe A true fairy godmother of risk and innovation. Not only does it provide free performance space, but it even gives free accommodation to its artists. And rather than demanding finished shows, it invites them to go out on a limb and deliver works in progress. Tickets are free, and some of the acts are brilliant. Street Crash On Saturday afternoon, youth culture went live on West Bowling Green Street with Street Crash, a graffiti event organised by Urban Studios. If you felt pretty groovy looking at street art on the walls of the Scottish National Portrait Gallery, get down to Leith and see the real thing.

62 THE LIST FESTIVAL MAGAZINE 27 Aug–10 Sep 2009