Year: 2005

Brian Malow’s Not Available in Stores is aptly titled, but only because it’s really a workshop for a show that isn’t ready for prime time. He’s got a good family reminiscence to tell, some funny observations (belying his standup roots) and a few interesting points to make about politics, consumerism and other topics, but there’s no real thread to tie them together. If you’re expecting the Brian Malow who performs his own brand of intelligent, science-flavored stand up you’ll be disappointed; you’re going to see a work in progress that’s currently unfocused, changing from night to night as he rewrites and edits on the fly.

This is a cute, funny snack of a show that’s also sort of touching at times. It’s one of the shortest performances in the Fringe, but that’s because it’s just the right length. Jen Frankel is immediately believable and endearing in the title (and only) role. The flashback and fantasy scenes are cleverly written and performed, particularly the job montage and—not a spoiler, given the title—stripping routines. (Kudos on the non-nudity nudity, which is saucy yet tasteful.) The music is well-chosen, and edited better than most of the other productions I’ve seen that use it incidentally. I’ve only two quibbles:

• The music and sound cues this evening were a little too loud; Frankel’s character is enthusiastic by nature (as is the actress herself) but she seemed to be on the verge of shouting her lines just to be heard.
• Being one, I take (mock) offense at the portrayal of the geek. 🙂

Even though I knew what to expect from The Body from seeing it earlier in the Fringe, catching the nuances and details I’d missed the first time—a lighting cue here, a sentence there—made it even better the second time around. My previous glowing review (mistakenly posted to the Fringe forums as “Guest”) doesn’t come close to being a sufficient appreciation of Lydia Zadel’s performance or Andrew Zadel’s writing.

The highlight of this mock musical is, of course, the music. Since I saw Pish Posh extracted at last Friday’s showcase it’s been a real earworm, popping into my head at the most random times (like during a blackout in Yes, We Have No Bananas tonight). It’s the strangest thing to see Jeff Culbert blond and pyjamaed and singing and dancing around the stage, but you know, it works. Amber Cunningham is just cartoony enough as the very blond, almost-squeaky Cindy, and breaks your heart with her expressive, crystal voice. Playwright/songsmith/star Joshua Richardson plays the angry young man in short pants right to the edge. Tyson Bree’s a handsome yet geeky sidekick with the voice of a villain, and Kara Evelyn is entertaining tellin’ things like they are when her friends get caught up in their P&J predicament.

The nuances of the plot haven’t really stuck with me, and the recorded music was a little overpowering at points, but both are minor quibbles in an otherwise nicely done parody.

I was asked after the show tonight if I’d recommend it… and my answer was (and is) a qualified “yes”. (The person who asked, a director and producer, didn’t seem amused by that response.) For better or for worse, it’s not a performance for everyone, and that I’m selective about who I’d suggest it to probably says more about me than the show itself. But for me, tonight, it was the sort of high-calibre, high-energy, highly abstract thing I was in the mood for.

To Craig Scorgie’s review from this evening’s show I’ll add that I was one of those (mostly) silent audience members, but just because I wasn’t hungry doesn’t mean I didn’t have fun. 🙂

Others have said most of what I would about Forbidden Fruits, so I’ll just highlight the excellent performances of Leah Walsh and Megan Donahue in “Losing It” and Leah again in “Camera Magic”. (“Losing It” also makes the most effective use of the Wolf stage that I’ve seen during the Fringe.)

The Body is one of two standout one-person shows I’ve seen at this year’s Fringe (the other being Jekyll & Hyde, of course). Andrew Zadel has written a story that takes several characters on both literal and figurative journeys, and the audience on yet another: pay attention. Lydia Zadel in turn does a great job of portraying the individual strengths and vulnerabilities of each of those characters; she makes it her show from start to finish, somehow even giving life and personalities to her characters’ unseen companions (and tormentors, past and present). When she stares into the audience at crucial moments there’s the unsettling sense that she’s looking right into your soul… and perhaps she is.

This one’s high on my list of performances to see again.

Murders (apparent)

4

Murders (actual)

2

Suicides

1

Rapes (including attempted)

4

Incarcerations

2

Births (offstage)

1

Demons

1

Angels

1

Songs performed (excluding musicals)

6

Musicals

1

Dancers

8

Women’s undergarments

5

Men’s undergarments

0

Transvestites

1

Days of Fringe finished

3

Days of Fringe remaining

7

Shows seen

12

Standing ovations

3

This is a well-written, well-acted and well-sung one-man show; but for some reason it left me cold (and that’s not a pun on the name). I really want to like it, and I’m sure everyone else will.

On a non-show topic, it’s nice to see one of the big draws promoting another Fringe performance. As for the bike crook, I hope you get two flat tires and a black eye as big as the one you gave the festival and the city.