The play is a clusterfuck of ideas, and perhaps the acting was a little sub par because the performers had to unload so much other garbage (yoga, tai chi, awkward lesbian kisses, wordy monologues…) in addition to the galumphing (lack of) plot points.
Uncorseted is a winding, wildly hilarious ride from lights up to lights down, and all the characters and conflicts are flung to the fore from the get go—after all, the show’s only got 30 minutes to climax. But I would not have protested to spending all night with “nipple consultant” Jetta Bra-man’s handiwork (I’ll never again look at my flesh-colored bras in the same way) and Carriage and Cemetery’s perfect, stiff-as-a-strap-on delivery.
Looking at the Fringe guide, I wondered how C.S. Lewis’ best known work could be condensed into 42 minutes. Well, the production was actually 30 minutes. And it felt long. But I’m about 15 years older than the target audience and I left my stunt children at home. With no ability to gauge the play’s success on my own, I inferred from the sporadic giggles behind me that the Adventure Theater production had achieved its goal: to entertain the kiddies.
Nothing else I’ve sampled at Fringe can touch IAHH’s the trifecta of lacerating wit, flawless delivery, and superb performances from the entire cast (Morogiello’s recurring Yeats was a highlight, as was Lori Boyd’s turn as Lady Gregory). You haven’t Fringed until you’ve seen Wilde clutch his chest at the sight of a “dark, rugged” jihadist bent over in prayer.
Still. I don’t know if it was her glitz-tastic club shirt or the result of a play-dream (which occurs when brains clock out mid-performance due to boredom), but I think Oktem’s capable of more than she lets on. Perhaps by next Fringe she’ll have gathered enough constructive criticism and convincing self-confidence for something bigger and better than this Elephant.
It’s Not Easy Being Green
Redrum at Fort Fringe
Remaining Performances:
Saturday, July 11 at 2 p.m.
Saturday, July 18 at 10 pm.
Wednesday, July 22 at 7 p.m.
Friday, July 24 at 7:30 p.m.
They say: “Lock five playwrights in oversized compost bins, and demand plays about the expanding ‘green’ movement. What do you get? Mountains of compost, five smelly playwrights, [...]
In which your trusty Fringe bloggers disclose sundrie facts — some of which may prove revealing — about their sensibilities. And their sordid pasts. In this installment: guest blogger Hilary Crowe.
