Review by Michael Bonnet

Anyone who has ever had the misfortune to stray into the one part shambolic to two parts self-aggrandising world of student politics will find the setting for this satirical offering from Tom Basden embarrassingly familiar. But a political party with no name, five members and a meeting room that doubles-up as a garden shed proves rich enough a concept to comfortably provide an hour’s worth of laughs.

Self-styled leader Jared (Joseph Banks) chairs the assembly, much to the dismay of cynical mocker Jonsey (Owen Petty), ditsy feminist Phoebe (Harriet Layhe) and “passionately, passionately liberal” Mel (Lauren Orrock). While permanently bemused Duncan (Sam Prior), only invited to prevent a voting stalemate and whose father conveniently owns a printers for promotional material, is just disappointed that this isn’t a party in the conventional sense.

Not that there would be time for such frivolous activities with the serious business of adding to a manifesto that currently consists solely of the word “democracy” and money permitting, a space program. These would-be world leaders decide that they have to bravely take an opinion on everything. No matter if it’s patently obvious: “I’m very much against terror”, or more often than not a topic which they have no knowledge of whatsoever: how paint is made, what Armenia is famous for, the origins of the rainbow flag, or simply, China.

Basden’s lampooning of the idealism and naiveté of youth is both cutting, sympathetic and, one can only suspect, nostalgic. The pretentiousness of a group of middle-class students who see the employed and the working class as exotic is undeniable. But the debates that go off on every conceivable tangent and cultural reference points which include a Thomas the Tank Engine moneybox as the party’s treasury, remind us that this is just children playing at politics. It’s not their ignorance which we should hold against them, but their earnestness. As Duncan, who develops from class idiot to the sole voice of reason, muses “do we not need any real adults to form a party?”

The jokes are undeniably slick and confusion between what constitutes sex-trafficking and dogging draws one of the biggest laughs of the evening. It could be said that Party tells us more about students than it does about politics. And whilst it’s certainly true that this isn’t a political satire in the vein of say The Thick of It, there are lines that transcend the play’s light-hearted setting. Early on for instance there is a discussion of whether the politically correct pronoun to refer to Muslims is “them”, “they” or “those”, whilst by the end the party’s preferred method of voting has evolved from “weakest link style” to the single transferable vote, culminating in a most satisfying finale.

Tom Basden’s Party by Stone Fox Productions runs at Etcetera Theatre until 13th January

Last Friday we had a rather special lunch here in Spoonfed Towers. Instead of the usual bland and overpriced supermarket sandwich, gobbled down at our desks, the editorial team were instead treated to some rather fine burritos courtesy of the generous folks at Benito’s Hat.

With Chilango’s and Tortilla both within walking distance of the office, we like to think we know our burritos. But Benito’s Hat certainly impressed. Not only did they deliver – so we could stay where we belong, hunched over our crumb-strewn keyboards – but they delivered bloody good burritos.

One editor moaned that his wasn’t spicy enough, and one had never had a burrito before (yeah, we know) but the overall impression was an impressive one, with Felipe’s tender chicken thighs receiving some particularly high praise. Keep it up Felipe!

Here’s what each of our editors had to say:

“If I ever taste a better burrito, I’ll eat my hat – actually make that Benito’s Hat!” *****

“Top-notch eats!” ****

“My first ever burrito – an emotional experience” ***

“My armpits are spicier.” **

“Send my regards to Felipe. His tender chicken thighs were quite spectacular.” *****

“Banging Friday buritto – made my day.” ****

I blame whoever let me watch Titanic when I was 12 for the association I make between classical music and impending doom. A memory of the cheerful quartet who provide a soundtrack to the sinking comes to mind at The Barbican as David Attenborough’s voice gently booms an explanation of why Earth is known as The Lucky Planet thanks to the precious tilt that keeps us the perfect distance from the sun. It’s not so much the ominous, stunning images of our planet from space but the Overture performed by the BBC Concert Orchestra that conjures goosepimply trepidation as Planet Earth Live begins.

For the next two hours the musicians hold us in this emotional grip, gently releasing us now and again into the care of conductor George Fenton who comments on the footage, the music and the blizzards that held Attenborough captive in a tent. He talks us through gyroscopic camera mounts that allow steady filming of birds in flight and the difference between the funny anecdotes we see unfolding before us, and the epic stories that the animals tell.

The personality of the sociable Dolphins he soberly calls “well-adjusted” are case in point, as are the adorable images of polar bear cubs sliding down snowy slopes as they see sun for the first time. During these moments the footage conveys the short stories the crew were fortunate enough to bear witness to and the lighthearted music provides a soundtrack to the simultaneous “aaahhh” of hundreds of viewers.

But when the images depict the epic journeys undertaken by elephants and birds across harsh terrain, it feels like more than an observation. Here, the music provides our interpretation of their great feats. As birds ascend Everest, music that feels like a war song welcomes them to their landing spots, exhausted after battle. Elephants cross the desert with the calm, majestic vocal accompaniment of soprano Haley Glennie-Smith whose voice is as rich as the colours of the land they trample through.

But such heavy material is balanced with a performance of Gershwin’s Nice Work If You Can Get It, which bounces along to behind the scenes footage of locals laughing at fearless cameramen and curious, gargantuan animals exploring piddly human huts. The only criticism you could make of the evening is perhaps the screen which is slightly on the small side. But the music more than makes up for it by veering away from the trepidation it greets us with and rightly glorifying our “lucky planet” earth.

The next series, Human Planet Live, will come to London’s O2 Arena on 29th March 2012 with a score by Nitin Sawhney

Israeli director Shlomi Eldar -often doubling as cameraman- follows Palestinian parents Raida and Fauzi Abu Mustafa as they take their four month-old son Muhammed back and forth from Gaza to Tel Hashomer Hospital to have him treated for an immunodeficiency disorder. A broadcast on Channel 10, the news station where Shlomi works soon has hundreds of Israeli’s donating money, including one anonymous donor who contributes the entire $55,000 needed to save Muhammed’s life.

Off-camera he explains he has lost a son to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and now sanctifies all life, a point which at first appears to be assumed. But with Shlomi blurring the boundaries of journalism, giving himself, his doubts, his reasoning and his anger over to the film, we are drawn a picture of unchanging human instinct and kindness that pushes against generations of history, politics and religion, the things we are taught are right.

Shlomi’s conversations with Raida in the hospital soon turn to talk of war and when the ever-grateful mother admits that she’d be happy for her son to die a martyr, we see the director’s faith take a sudden hit. But Shlomi’s scene selection is wise. “Don’t blame the director,” he says during the Q&A afterwards, “I included it because it happened. She said it.” And it’s these scenes that have Shlomi accused of creating Israeli propaganda, but he matches them by including Raida’s explanation as she points at the difference between dying for what you believe in, and killing others for what you believe in. Charting his own issues with the perceived Palestinian readiness to die, he also shows us Raida’s ups and downs as she presents them: careful and controlled but regularly  overwhelmingly honest. So while she speaks frankly about Jerusalem, territory, and conflict, she defends the human kindness she sees in Israel to the Palestinian community that now question her loyalty.  Despite what becomes what Shlomi calls “an ambassador for peace.”

Raida and Fauzi face checkpoints for their son, the staff at the hospital work to save one life while war carries on around them and the donations in response to one family’s plight all point at life as something precious and politics (including religion) as the pragmatic, ideological  force that cheapens it.

Ruaridh Arrow’s documentary, How to Start a Revolution is a fascinating introduction to the ideas of Gene Sharp; the man behind the strategies that many claim were key in bringing down dictatorships from Serbia to Egypt. At under an hour it provides a curious, look at Sharp’s humble office, his appreciation for orchids and the people who have employed his ideas. Its downfall is its cursory structure and occasional sentimentality that makes it feel like little more than an abstract to a remarkable thesis.

The most riveting parts of Arrow’s fluid visual essay introduce us to the people who practised his theories in countries where peaceful protest had its desired effect (disappointingly, we hear little about where it failed). Srdjan Popovic of Otpor champions Sharp and footage paired with his interview demonstrates how protesters turned the police and the army before toppling Milosevic – a marked point that address the difficulties experienced by the Egyptians when they came up against Murbarak’s forces. Although here Sharp’s influence is overstated, it does what documentaries should and raises a multitude of questions.

Popovic’s contribution also highlights the lack of specificity to Sharp’s ideas, something that is both inspirational and potentially very dangerous. The documentary focuses on his book From Dictatorship to Democracy, written in response to the actions of Burmese military forces. But Sharp’s lack of knowledge about Burma pushed him to write something hypothetical and generic which, it turns out, is highly applicable across the world (though evidently not Burma).

People as well as publishers have translated his book into approximately 30 languages. As Sharp points out, tracking how this work spread from continent to continent would be a mammoth research task; nonetheless, it has spread, as is evident from the photocopied pages that made the rounds in Tahrir square.

In an article for the BBC, Ruaridh Arrow writes about sleeping alongside protesters in Tahrir in the shadow of a tank as they read Sharp’s work. But such visuals are never made a feature of in his documentary. Instead we see the same images we see on the news, people in matching colours marching under an emblem, a reflection of one of Sharp’s points about presenting an organised, united front in the face of oppressors. And though these images are so very common, like banners in the Middle East written in English, Arrow prompts his viewers to think a little deeper about the strategy and the global perception of such liberation.

Towards the end, he strays into sentimental observations of the fragile, elderly man that Sharp has become. It ties into Arrow’s fascination with who Sharp is as well as the results of his work but feels like an unnecessary glaze on an already light film.

How to Start a Revolution won Best Documentary at Raindance and though Arrow is not the first to look into Sharp’s influence (see Steve York’s documentary A Force More Powerful), he may well succeeded in getting every one of his viewers to reconsider what it takes to effectively seek freedom from oppression.

The days of shooting Tequila between barrels of lager and splicing them with sambucas are over. Tequila Chamucos have set their raison d’etre to improving the reputation of the Mexican drink from being the late night turbo-charge to obliteration into something of a delicacy. We popped into their promotion evening and discovered that, much like champagne, Tequila can only be so called if it is made from 100% agave and manufactured in the Tequila region of Mexico. The consideration and consumate attention of the brewing process is equal to that of any bottle of wine. Barrels are aged for varying durations for fuller flavour, and if sipped (yes, SIPPED) it can awaken the palete with aromas of butterscotch, caramel, vanilla and chocolate. Unlike wine, Tequila does not improve with age so the bottle will need to be finished, but finished SLOWLY (preferrably in an El Coco cocktail!).

If you’d like to know where to try Tequila Chamucos, click here

by Danny Byrne (SuperDanvillain)

The debut solo stand-up show from Matthew Crosby is a somewhat lightweight affair. Barely checking in at 45 minutes long, Crosby doesn’t seem to have been aiming that high in terms of themes or subject matter.

What we get instead is a consistently funny if somewhat forgettable show about being a nerd, his changing physical appearance and Nandos. There are some decent original touches, such as the opening B feature (a filmed sketch) and the way Crosby structures the show around a PowerPoint presentation. He is quite inventive in his use of this device, successfully exploiting its potential for some good visual gags.

Crosby’s also a likable presence on stage with a very clear comic persona: he’s a nerd. This might not be the most original premise to base a show around, but it would be pointless him pretending to be anything other than that, especially after he shows us some pictures of himself as a youngster looking geekier than Bill Gates in Star Trek fancy dress.

It also allows for some fun audience interaction as he attempts to discover his fellow nerds, and tries to establish the difference between nerds and geeks. I’m surprised how natural Crosby proves to be in this role considering this is his debut, and he comes across as charming and quick-witted when bantering with the crowd.

All this made for a very entertaining performance, but there’s really not a great deal more to say about a 45 minute show with some embarrassing pictures and stories about Nandos in it. As a debut, it’s probably quite a success. In future, let’s hope Crosby spreads his wings a bit more and tries for something a bit more ambitious.

Rupert Uzzell

Matthew Crosby – Adventure Party is at the Pleasance Cellar at 4.45pm until August 29.

2/5 stars

Mistaking anal pedantry for wit is a common problem in a lot of stand-up comedy at the moment. I think it’s this that annoys me so much about Josh Widdicombe’s new Edinburgh show.

On and on he goes, nasally whining about everything under the sun, making these supposedly clever and incisive observations, when really all he’s doing is pointing out the bleeding obvious. One typical example of his approach is to tell us about something someone said to him that is obviously quite stupid, and then he’ll ingeniously point out where they went wrong. For example, he mentions a friend of his who claimed that laser quest was what war would be like in the future. Cue Josh for two minutes of sarcasm, saying, “I don’t think it is what war will be like in the future.” Well, give yourself a pat on the back sir, and a gold star for effort. Such incredible powers of mighty deduction and lofty reasoning cannot possibly go unrewarded.

As you might be able to tell, I usually quite like sarcasm, but Widdicombe relies on it way too much. He uses it to highlight lunacy that is already perfectly apparent and obvious to anyone with a few functioning brain cells. Take the ending of this show for instance. Bringing out some objects that are clearly designed in a manner unsuitable for their intended purpose, Widdicombe then stands there pointing this out to us. Is this what observational comedy has come to? Because, as much as I hate to deliver the old cliche, anyone can do that!

It should be mentioned here that I am in the minority with this view, as most of the audience are really enjoying the show. I can see why in certain respects. He’s a very competent operator, and there are the odd moments of good material that do actually crack me up. However, I hope in future he learns to demonstrate far greater levels of true wit and creativity rather than relying on the easy laughs of lowest common denominator observational comedy.

Rupert Uzzell

Josh Widdicombe: If This Show Saves One Life... is at the Pleasance Courtyard at 7:15pm until the 28th August.

4/5 stars

It’s an interesting prospect seeing Tim Vine as a chat show host. He’s primarily known as a scripted comic who specialises in puns, so I’m not sure how this is going to translate into milking humour out of an off-the-cuff interview scenario. However, any concerns I may have had soon evaporate, as he proves to be excellent at quick-witted badinage with his various guests.

He’s helped in this regard by the inventive format of the show.  Instead of interviewing tedious, self-promoting celeb folk,  he talks to us, the ordinary scummy general public. As we arrive, on our seats are little forms to fill in with information about ourselves, should we wish to do so. Vine then collects these and selects from them the people who will be interviewed. Before this we are treated to a selection of his latest gags, featuring his trademark delightful silliness. He enters singing a horrifically cheesy (and all the funnier for it) intro song, immediately energising the crowd with his typical lively old-school showmanship.

The jokes are the usual mixture of ridiculous puns, prop gags and cheesy one-liners. It’s easy to dismiss this type of humour as simplistic, but as anyone whose seen inferior stand-ups try and do the same sort of thing will know, it is a deceptively difficult approach to pull off, and no-one does it better than Vine. After about ten minutes of top quality material, the interviews begin as he starts bringing his guests up from the audience.

Often, the problem with a comedy chat show depends on the interviewee and how funny they are, but this is not the case here. Vine’s quick wit and natural comedic instinct immediately kicks in, seeing him furrow the humour out of the most mundane of conversations. This includes discussing his first guest’s career working in the manufacture of concrete, an avenue most interviewers would avoid like the plague but one which Vine is happy to stroll along. Particularly impressive is his ability to come up with one-liners on the spot. “Well, I think we’re on solid ground here…” and so on.

Equally entertaining is the silly parlour game Vine plays with an audience member where they compete to see who can speak certain words quickest and quietest. This again has it’s own stupid theme tune which he revels in performing, and which further adds to the overwhelming aura of silliness pervading the entire performance.

All in all, it’s a very funny show that the audience appear to really enjoy. As is always the case with Vine, it’s one of the few genuinely family friendly comedy shows at the Fringe, and people of all ages were in attendance and loving it. Definitely one to try and catch.

Rupert Uzzell

The Tim Vine Chat Show is at the Pleasance Courtyard at 3:45 and 5:20pm until 28th August

2/5 stars

There’s a moment in Phil Nichol’s show where he asks if there are any reviewers in. I cowardly choose to keep my mouth shut, mainly out of guilt, as Nichol comes across as a really nice guy and there are a few funny moments in this show. Unfortunately though, it’s nowhere near enough.

It’s all just a bit chaotic, and not in a good way. Routines don’t really go anywhere, jokes and songs fall flat, and more often than not Nichol resorts to making funny noises and over-the-top play acting to mine laughs from the reluctant crowd. It’s never good when an unintentional air of desperation creeps in to the performance, and I definitely start to sense this during the show.

His career seems to have stalled somewhat since his big Edinburgh award win back in 2006. This new show is billed as a ’simple hour’ of stand-up and songs, ditching the big concepts and themes of his last few shows, in order to get back to what he does best i.e. being funny. This would be all well and good except that he seems woefully under-prepared. Much more effort needs to go into the writing in order to produce some reliably funny routines around which he can then be more spontaneous and playful. As it is, he seems to be just turning up and hoping for the best in a way that really doesn’t pay off. One particularly embarrassing moment sees him interrogate an audience member about whether he has ever masturbated about Jordan’s cleavage, which gives you an idea of the level that Nichol works on throughout most of the show.

To be completely fair to him, he does describe the performance as a ‘work in progress.’ However, if you’re going to play that card, it’s best to put it in the title of the show rather than announce it on the night. Overall, it’s a bit of a disappointment, as Nichol’s a talented comic performer, and could produce something a lot better than this if he put a bit more preparation in.

Rupert Uzzell