Review by Julia Chamberlain

Wow, this was completely crackers. Greeted at the door by a portly little old man offering digestives (Win!), I had no idea what I was coming to.

The show began with energetic dancing from Little Old Man (actually small young woman Marny Godden in a bald wig, comedy belly padding and big trousers) high-fiving of every member of the audience. It made me want to crawl under a chair, but then two limber young men in wigs and too-small leggings leapt in.

The narrative was loose, the old man, Mr Wilmot Brown’s, story being told with a plummy voiceover which completely contrasted with the wriggling, barely contained mayhem before us.

I would normally despair confronted with men leaping around in bad women’s wigs and dresses (I've seen too many stag parties) but my initial hostility was reduced to nothing once I’d succumbed to the three-person-carnival atmosphere.

I’m not sure this sits right in the comedy section, as its strength was in clowning and physical theatre that used a very loose sketch format.

Story one involves a man with the killer shout, a machine for sucking up noise and a couple of pantomime villains; story two has grotesque teachers getting fired (there are an awful lot of Commedia dell'arte penisy noses, terrible joke teeth and shrill men pretending to be women); and story three, well, the rasta-ry inhabitant of a compost heap dispensing philosophy and wisdom to Annie from the musical, who is a bloke in a ginger wig was oddly touching.

To describe this show does it no favours, but it won me over, especially since wild horses wouldn’t have dragged me to it had I known what it was.

The performers were completely committed, hugely energetic, physically dexterous (but it’s not Cirque du Soleil) and the deliberate ropiness of the costumes and wigs just contributed to the gritty, proppy fun.

The performers complemented each other but Godden showed particular versatility and had a core of stillness in the mayhem that made her quite compelling, even disguised under various fright wigs, horror teeth and big, shapeless outer wear. The only problem was she can’t always be heard.

Lanky, handsome Tom Turner had a succession of alarming cross-dressing roles, and made a great villainous owl, at once comedic and beautifully observed, and Andrew Mudie took on various gormless parts with a charm that reminded me of old clips of Dudley Moore corpsing his way through Pete and Dud sketches.

It was a holiday for the brain. Don’t try and understand this, just allow yourself to be swept along and enjoy the madness.

Review date: 6 Aug 2014
Reviewed by: Julia Chamberlain
Reviewed at: Underbelly Cowgate