As life goes on, it is becoming clearer that society is becoming lonelier, mental health is on the downward track, and its affecting the young and the queer community in a disastrous way.

Sweet Beef, with their show, Crying Shame, aims to bring this epidemic to light, using verbatim interviews mixed in an unreal cabaret, where we are reminded that, while we may be suffering, we are not alone.

While this sounds intense and deep, there are elements of comedy within, in a little bit of a bittersweet way. The characters are all clowns of some sort, with clown-like names, make up and crossed cabaret/circus outfits. They start out engaging us as any cabaret show: we have the compare, the introduction to different acts, they interact with us like friends and welcomed guests… but as time ticks on, it becomes more unhinged, the characters break down, it all goes wrong. There’s this philosophical approach to the production, almost starting with “putting on a smile” to engage us, but pushing us away as soon as things become too much and too real – it resonates, if not ambiguously.

The characters are each fully formed and so when they break, it is very clear that their clown facade has disappeared. However, some moments of chaos were almost too chaotic. Each breakdown seems to draw the other characters out and it becomes a little overwhelming, with competing voices and faces engaging you. The compare continues to keep peace until they themselves break and we get this beautiful moment of their reflection, of a slower and calmer analysis of loneliness. If there were more peppering of this, it would feel more poignant and not at a high energy level that felt a little hard to keep up with.

Crying Shame is visually beautiful, with a socio-political approach that is needed since the pandemic and in an ever downward spiral in our mental health system. It is an important and clever production, but needed a occasional change of pace to allow us to sit in our thoughts on the topic.

(4 / 5)

Who would have thought that if you combined pigeons and circus, you’d have a brilliant time?

Lucky Pigeons is Brainfools Ed Fringe debut, and what a debut it is. This is a highly interactive, family friendly show. Before any action even takes place, our main “human” character is out in the audience, introducing herself to each member of the audience, interacting with the children and ensuring that they are comfortable with the next hour.

A boy called Oscar becomes an unbeknownst star when he is called upon regularly to come straight onto the stage and help. The grin on this boy’s face is infectious and his excitement to take part is electric. Lucky Pigeons has really provided an opportunity to make a core memory for this kid.

Our main character loses her job and becomes lost on a street where she meets a group of pigeons who magically become human size and teach her the ways of the pigeon life which is… circus. There’s a sense of learning from them and improving of her mood from these simple yet talented figures. Their costumes border human with suit-like outfits but bright feathers and colourful face paint, pigeon style hats and movement like a bird. It is engaging, and fun, cute and adorable.

The tricks are of course impressive, acrobatics from the built staging in front of us, tricks with no support at all and team balancing acts. There are the occasional mistake but these are picked up quickly and moved on with little notice. There is silly comedy and slapstick, which, from the sounds of the children, tickles them and therefore achieves what it sets out to do.

Lucky Pigeons is engaging, fun, comical and ticks all the boxes for a family friendly show. It may be catered for this demographic, but anyone can find it enjoyable and hugely endearing.

(4 / 5)

There is something very powerful about theatre being built around you. Even more so when it’s circus, around, in front and above your head.

Walking into the space, we are faced with only a lonely deflated tent, that we are asked to stand around and watch as it comes alive. We start from the outside until we are welcomed in and under the tent. In front of us, the tent grows and grows and is built before us. There’s a sense of consent – that we are only allowed into this magical world when we are invited.

This reminds me a lot of No Fit State, Bianco, where the staging is ever changing and we see the build before us. However, with Brave Space, we are brought in close to one another, in an intimate and close encounter – the space is safe, the space is brave.

My only criticism with this is that we are such a large audience, that this becomes slightly uncomfortable, with the pressure of the tent on your head if you’re at the back. When we are asked to lie down and watch acrobatics above us, again, it feels compact, little awkward and some couldn’t quite find the space to do this so miss out on the impact. If you’re lucky enough to lie down, it’s magical and a new and relaxed perspective.

The actual circus tricks are of course brilliant and awe-inspiring. There’s the occasional mistake but this is picked up quickly and effortlessly, with very little impact on the smooth transitions.

Brave Space is a tranquil and intimate circus show, bringing us together and creating a new world, built before our eyes.