Far-out festival
The Psychedelic Fringe feeds your head
Jeanne Fronda, Staff
Photo courtesy of Uncalled For.
There was a Winnipeg love-in during late July. Thousands of hipsters broke out their bellbottoms, tie-dyed shirts and bandanas to celebrate the 18th annual Winnipeg Fringe Theatre Festival. With a ’70s-inspired theme entitled the Psychedelic Fringe, the 11-day festival featured over 130 companies and was held at 21 venues in downtown Winnipeg — that’s a lot of groovy theatre. A lone hippie couldn’t see all the performances in such a short time frame, but here’s a sextet of reviews that should be enough to feed your head if you missed this year’s Fringe Festival.
Gags 4 the Masses
Benjamin Crellin
This show could offend a lot of people. New Zealand stand up comic Benjamin Crellin pokes fun at religion, capitalism and current events. He even takes a dig at the gay community, mentioning that Africa has had so many AIDS cases that the African version of Sesame Street didn’t need a character with AIDS: “Burt and Ernie would’ve gotten it.” But he tries to be a good sport by poking fun at himself and his non-existent love life. Clueless that his non-P.C. jokes were in poor taste, Crellin delivers a lackluster show that’s more suited for a lounge than the stage.
Confessions of a Class Clown
Ryan Gladstone (Monster Theatre)
Overhead projectors, fart machines and spitballs. Gladstone knows that if we can’t relate to being a smart-ass, at least we can laugh at one. This show is a merry romp through the life of a jester, starting from the fourth grade up until secondary school. He even explores whether or not he should restrain his insatiable desire to be a joker, but accepts that it’s his lifelong duty as a wise-ass to make fun of situations. Confident and lively, Gladstone gives a boisterous peek into the mind of the perpetual joker.
The Drunken Finger Reveals Himself
Derek Kroeker (the Holy Kroeker Archives)
Living in a daydream where you can moan about your life is the focus of this one-man show. Kroeker plays the middle finger of a severed right hand, a pariah who is forever giving the finger at everyone around him. Unable to hold a girlfriend or a job, the Drunken Finger takes us through a rant about his unfulfilling life. With his “Winnipeg cocktail” in hand — a mixture of Slurpee and Jack Daniels — the finger takes us through the mind of a narcissist who likes to sing the theme song from the animated series Jem, as well as songs about cigarette box warning labels (in both English and French, mind you). This isn’t Shakespearean theatre, but hey, seeing a seven-foot-high middle finger costume is a hilarious sight.
Photo courtesy of Agua Luna Productions.
Angelheaded Hipsters
Agua Luna Productions
Angelheaded Hipsters is like Reality Bites taken to the stage. Four friends who are part of the Twixter Generation — 20 to 29-year-olds who just won’t grow up — try to figure out their lives as they sit in a karaoke bar. Sure, everyone struggles to find out who they are, and finding ways to make that story engaging is a tall order for any writer. Unfortunately, writer Teri Stevens does not come through. The highlight of the show is the convincing performance by Sarah Granke, who seems natural and comfortable on stage. Other than that, however, Angelheaded Hipsters ends up being a run-of-the-mill “what should I do with my life?” story that lacks unique and engrossing circumstances or obstacles.
Call Me Kirk: The Star Trek Adventure
Chicken for Supper Productions
TV episodes were meant to be seen in a specific sequence. That’s why Call Me Kirk is a messy amalgamation of several Star Trek episodes and of scenes from the film The Wrath of Khan. Michael Schaldemose tackles too much in this one-man show as he bounces among a huge cast of characters, ultimately confusing and then annoying those in the audience who are unfamiliar with the original Star Trek series. Schaldemose’s impersonation of William Shatner as Captain Kirk is dead-on as he mimics Shatner’s unusual need to pause between words when he speaks, but that’s about all that is noteworthy. Anyone who can’t tell the difference between a Tribble and a Vulcan will just end up baffled and irked at the end of this hodgepodge of episodic TV.
This is Uncalled For
Uncalled For
A persimmon, a crypt and a dog collar. Just add Uncalled For. This 5-person improv troupe from Montreal knows how to blend anything together. Their comedic timing is evident, as the players know exactly when to finish each other’s sentences. And improv isn’t improv without flaws, but when these actors point out and laugh off their own mistakes, the show just gets better. Whether it’s strange fruit or catacombs full of dead people and ghosts, Uncalled For can transform any subject into a loud and glorious event. This show is uproarious, guaranteed fun.
