Adelaide Fringe 2017 reviews: Tom Bowden’s hits and misses
TOM Bowden loves this magic time of year, when the city really comes to life and embraces Mad March. So much so, he’s reviewed 35 Fringe shows. Here are his picks — and the big misses he also had to endure.
SWEATING in what feels like a cleaning supplies cupboard someone’s lined with black fabric, I sit with just a handful of others and watch a comedian fight to be heard over a rattly airconditioner trying desperately to not give up the ghost.
The air is thick with the smell of old beer and B.O. and the chair feels like a medieval torture device.
Just a short walk away, a crowd cheers for a breathtaking fusion of acrobatics and pyrotechnics, while in a nearby tent a cabaret performer tells a tragic tale of love and loss.
Roll up, roll up! Welcome to the Fringe.
It’s a magic time of year, when the city really comes to life and embraces all the madness that the festival season brings.
So enchanting is the madness of the Adelaide Fringe, I selfishly shafted my family for a month, spending countless late nights away from my loved ones down the festival rabbit hole to review a total of 35 shows.
Despite being the Real Estate Editor for The Advertiser, I have a real passion for the arts, and each Fringe put my hand up to see as much as I can.
To me the Fringe is really about discovery — it’s about finding that elusive diamond in the coalmine.
That might be a no-name act you took a chance on that blew you away, a fan favourite that lived up to expectations, or a show you bought tickets to hoping it would be good that ended up being incredible.
Going into An Evening With Amanda Palmer, I had no idea what to expect. I knew nothing of her work. All I knew was I wasn’t in the mood for a two-and-a-half hour show.
It turned out to be probably the most honest and gut-wrenching show I’ve seen, and had me wiping away tears on more than one occasion. I didn’t want it to end.
Tom Ballard’s Problematic, blew me away as well. I wasn’t a huge fan going in, but couldn’t fault his perfect balance of sharp political analysis and solid gutter humour.
The same goes for Peter Goers is Smoked Ham. I expected to be bored out of my skull by someone people of my Nanna’s era listen to religiously, but he was delightfully entertaining, beautifully sentimental and disarmingly sincere. Oh, and he had a massive cucumber down the front of his bike shorts and I love me a good d*ck joke!
That’s the other great thing about the Fringe, there’s something here for everyone — every interest, every age.
I’ve got two daughters, aged four and almost two, and I’ve loved introducing them to the arts through some quality children’s performances.
Seeing the look of sheer bewilderment on their tiny faces as they watch people defy gravity and perform unfathomable acts of strength, balance and flexibility is about the best thing in the world.
My eldest asked me after the impressive acrobatic displays of Le Petit Circus: “Will I be able to do that one day?”
Kid, if you grow up to be anything like your dad, just walking will be a challenge ...
Having a bit of an artistic bent myself, one of the highlights of the Fringe for me is meeting the performers and learning how they develop their characters, hone their act and adapt it to Adelaide’s audience and conditions, adding and dropping material on the fly.
Chatting late one night to Canadian Daniel Wurr who plays the hunchbacked DADO in A Frayed Knot and Prohibition — two cracker shows — I learnt he didn’t find the hunchbacked character so much as the character found him — in a thrift store through the chance discovery of an oversized trench coat. It’s fascinating and inspiring stuff.
As a reviewer, I get given two tickets to each show I review, meaning I can share the experience with a friend, or if I can’t get someone to join me on the night, gift a ticket to a random I find on the street or wandering the Garden.
“Hey!”, I say. “I’ve got a free ticket for this show. There’s no obligation to take it, I can’t guarantee it will be any good and you don’t even have to sit with me, but if you’d like to see a show, this is all yours.” That’s cool.
With free access to shows other people have to pay for, I admit I am in an amazingly privileged position. Of course I am.
Had I been required to pay for tickets, with a family to feed and a mortgage to pay, there’s no way I would have seen anywhere near this many shows.
But I could afford to see some, and I think that’s what’s great about the Fringe — you can do it on a budget.
There are free acts, cheap Tuesday tickets and I heard artists offering ‘buy one get one free’ deals on International Women’s Day — that’s pretty awesome.
I admit, I’ve just painted a fairly glowing overview of the Fringe Festival — that’s just based on my experience.
There are obviously questions that can be asked of the Fringe.
What is its identity anymore?
Has it outgrown itself?
Are household names like Wil Anderson and Dave Hughes even ‘fringe’?
Are larger venues like the Garden of Unearthly Delights and the Royal Croquet Club making it difficult for smaller venues to find an audience?
Rather than having our festival season largely done and dusted within a month, would it be better for the state if our large events were spread out?
These are issues to be discussed by people far more qualified than myself.
Like the thousands who attend each year, I’m just here to enjoy it.
And now I’m done.
Thirty-five Fringe shows is a fair effort, and, coming home on Thursday night to tell my four-year-old ‘that was the last one’, and having her hug me like I had just returned from war, it’s clear my family have missed me.
But that’s nothing compared to the thousands of performers who have left their families at home in other states and other countries to entertain us for a month.
I love the Fringe.
One day I’ll grow a pair and have a crack at putting on a stand-up show of my own, but until then, I’ll wait for the madness to return next year and do it all again.
At least I have the Cabaret Festival to look forward to.
And really, although 35 shows seems like a fair effort, it is after all only 35 out of the 1100 shows on offer.
TOM’S PICKS
THE BEST
An Evening With Amanda Palmer *****
“Painfully raw, wickedly naughty, deeply moving and disconcertingly honest, An Evening With Amanda Palmer is a solid two and a half hours of enchantment that only scratches the surface of what this astonishing talent has to offer.”
Tom Ballard — Problematic *****
“Irreverent but respectful (for the most part), Ballard explores the double edged sword that is political correctness and unpacks issues of sexuality, disability, ethnicity, fame and privilege. Bold, daring and delightfully offensive, this is political comedy — no, scratch that — comedy at its very best.”
Faulty Towers The Dining Experience *****
“The most wonderfully ridiculous pantomime that doesn’t border on, but dives headfirst into insanity. A solid two hours of non-stop madness that will leave you crying with laughter and begging for another serving.”
THE WEIRDEST
Butt Kapinski ****
“In this adults-only show, we follow Butt Kapinski, a private dick investigating a series of horrific murders in a tale of mystery and perversion brought to life by Kapinski’s audience.
This isn’t simply audience participation — this is a totally immersive comedy experience.
Not for the easily offended but an absolute joy for those already perverted.”
Sam Simmons — A-K *****
“It’s not traditional stand-up and there’s plenty of material here to offend, but the audience lapped it up. Hilarious from start to finish, not too many comedians can get the entire audience literally doubled over with laughter. A fantastic offering from one of Australia’s weirdest comic talents.”
Dave Callan: Every Video Clip Ever ****1/2
“If the idea of watching a big Viking-looking bloke sweat for an hour while energetically recreating some of the greatest music videos of all time excites you, then strap yourself in ‘cos you’re in for a hell of a show. Take the red pill. See how deep Dave’s rabbit hole goes. Gleefully stupid fun.”
The WORST
Damien and Ross in Safari Psychosis ½ star
“Art is meant to confront and challenge. But this is not art. This is crap. A trainwreck from start to finish.”