From sex education to a female, Doric Elvis … Four shows at Edinburgh's Fringe

Sex Education Xplorers (S.E.X), Summerhall

NOTHING says “Edinburgh Fringe 2021” more emphatically than the show Sex Education Xplorers (S.E.X) (Summerhall, until August 29). The piece, by the extraordinary theatre-maker Mamoru Iriguchi, bounds humorously and confidently into social, moral and political territory (namely, the transgender debate) that is both extremely topical and, sometimes toxically, contentious.

Iriguchi’s production, which is presented as part of the Made in Scotland showcase, and which he performs with Edinburgh-based actor Afton Moran, is entirely of the zeitgeist. This is down not only to its fearless exploration of the subject of transexuality, but also because it is played in the outdoor (but covered), Covid-safe auditorium at the heart of the Summerhall venue.

As with Iriguchi’s previous show Eaten (a madcap, but brilliantly educational, consideration of the food chain, aimed primarily at young children), S.E.X reflects its creator’s background in zoology. The development of human sex and sexuality is put in the evolutionary context of creatures that are hermaphrodites or, as in the case of the delightful clown fish (of Finding Nemo fame), are able to change their biological sex.

Wearing lab coats and shirts emblazoned with the letters “S.E.X”, Iriguchi and Moran make clear the crucial distinctions between biological sex, the ever-changing social construct that we call “gender” and the fluid spectrum of sexual orientation. If this makes the show sound like a worthy, “woke” lecture, nothing could be further from the truth.

There are few theatre-makers working in Scotland today who have the creative imagination, the gloriously eccentric sense of humour and the brilliant comic delivery of Iriguchi. If this is a lecture, it is one told by means of witty dialogue, funny animations, fabulous physical comedy and hilariously improbable dancing (to a selection of music that ranges from Irene Cara’s What a Feeling, from the 1983 movie Flashdance, to the contemplative, sitar-infused music of The Beatles).

As with Eaten, Iriguchi is undaunted by the massive scale of the subject he is tackling. Indeed, with S.E.X, he and Moran are diving into subject that is as socially contentious as it is scientifically vast.

The courage of the piece is exemplified by a segment towards the end of the show, in which Iriguchi (who is gay) and Moran (who self-defines as non-binary) reflect on human sexuality and the future. Human evolution let us down, it is suggested, by placing us into binary categories for reproductive purposes, rather than making us hermaphrodites.

The next (technologically assisted) step in human evolution, Iriguchi suggests, will be the erasure of sexual categories. There are, in this, shades of some of the more technologically-inclined, radical feminist thinking about reproduction in the 1960s and 1970s.

Fascinatingly, although it is premiering at the Fringe (Iriguchi greets us as 14-year-old pupils at “Summerhall Secondary School”), the show is being developed for touring to Scottish high schools. Such is Iriguchi’s talent to simultaneously inform and entertain that one can easily imagine his show being a debate-generating hit among the nation’s teenagers.

Aye, Elvis, Traverse @ MultiStory

FROM an emerging hit show to an established one in Morna Young’s Aye, Elvis (Traverse @ MultiStory, until August 29). The venue’s open air auditorium in the Castle Terrace car park, with Edinburgh Castle towering above the stage, is somewhat different from the basement theatre at Oran Mor in Glasgow, where this production began its life at the lunchtime theatre A Play, A Pie And A Pint.

Starring the superb Joyce Falconer as Joan, an Aberdonian supermarket worker, turned Elvis impersonator, who lives with her mother, the piece is a beautifully wrought hour of comic theatre. Joan goes from karaoke nights in an Aberdeen pub to the subterranean world of Elvis impersonating.

As she does so, she barely thinks about just how challenging her female, Doric-speaking Elvis will be to this almost exclusively male subculture. From Joan singing Are Ye Lonely the Nicht? to her mum (the ever-excellent Carol Ann Crawford) fretting about Joan possibly losing her “jobby” at the supermarket, Young puts a delightful emphasis on her native Doric.

The comedy is interlaced with pathos in two smartly intertwined subplots. Joan’s mother, who is a wheelchair user, is housebound thanks to the Council’s failure to fix her access ramp.

Meanwhile, Joan buys a second-hand computer in order to seek love online. She thinks she’s found it in Robert, aka “TheKing1977”.

Granny Smith, French Institute

THE play takes on a genuinely moving dimension as Young unveils the backstory to Joan’s mum’s disability. The sadness and anger are leavened by Joan’s interactions with DJ “Fat Bob” (who isn’t fat, and is played with appropriate understatement by David McGowan) during her magnificently-costumed Elvis performances at her local pub.

This nicely written piece, staged by veteran director Ken Alexander, is close to perfect Fringe theatre. Not since I was walking down a street in Madrid and spotted posters advertising a show by “El Vez” has the world of Elvis impersonating made me laugh so much.

There’s impersonating of a very different kind in Granny Smith (French Institute, until August 30), a cleverly bilingual (English and French) production for children aged five and over by Parisian Company Theatre Transformations. In this solo show, the multitalented English actor, dramatist and mask maker Tracey Boot (below) dons a superb half-face mask, thereby taking on the wonderfully idiosyncratic titular character.

The piece is played on a simple, yet utterly “charmante” set comprised of backdrops on which black and white drawings depict Granny Smith’s humble abode. The monochrome design contrasts splendidly with the very colourful furniture and props in Granny’s home.

The excellent design, from the mask and costume to the set, is typical of Boot’s exceptional attention to detail. Every aspect of the show, including Granny’s occasional forgetting of English words (she, like Boot herself, is an Englishwoman who has long been living in France), is calculated carefully to engage young audiences (and their attendant adults).

Granny introduces herself as a woman who, among other activities, does karate on Tuesdays. Then she puts us through a gentle workout, complete with a Francophone rendering of the classic children’s exercise song Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.

After that, it’s onto some pretty chaotic baking, with a little help from children in the audience.

There were, in truth, more adults than children at the performance I attended on a wet Wednesday morning. However, what the target audience lacked in quantity it more than made up for in quality.

Granny’s young, bilingual helpers Arthur and Iona were so accomplished in translation that they put monolingual adults (such as myself) to shame. Their educational and entertaining interactions with Granny were testament, not only to their own undoubted talents, but also to Boot’s tremendous ability in relating to her audience.

We, in Scotland, see too little of the kind of mask theatre in which Theatre Transformations specialises. However, the excellent movement (including hilarious slapstick) that Boot learned as a student at L’ecole Jacques Lecoq in Paris will be familiar to aficionados of the great, but, sadly, currently inactive Scottish theatre company Communicado.

Finally, we turn from a marvellous piece of children’s Fringe theatre to an Edinburgh International Festival piece that addresses an urgent and harrowing subject. Niqabi Ninja (promenade from the Lyceum Theatre, until August 28) is Egyptian dramatist Sara Shaarawi’s response, both to a shocking incident in her country’s recent history and to misogynistic violence and rape culture in general.

Niqabi Ninja, Promenade from the Lyceum Theatre

IN the ferment of the Egyptian Revolution, following the ousting of the dictator Hosni Mubarak in 2011, protests continued in Cairo in 2012 against the elected, Islamist government of Mohamed Morsi. These protests were marred appallingly by instances of organised sexual assaults and rapes of women.

The response from Shaarawi (below) to those horrific events is a piece that combines audio drama (provided by way of MP3 players and headphones), promenade theatre (a gentle walk around a route on the west side of Edinburgh city centre) and the art of comic book superheroes.

As we walk the route, the incisively written script brings us a conversation between Hana (a young, female, Egyptian activist) and a strident, avenging creation of her imagination (the titular Niqabi Ninja). Hana’s feminist superhero (a righteously outraged Egyptian woman who wears the niqab face veil) is in a state of constant tension with her creator, constantly urging Hana to go further in the writing of both her character and her revenge narrative.

The promenade route is illustrated by six, large scale, comic-style artworks by illustrator Gehan Mounir. As the audio drama takes us deeper into the harrowing events in Cairo in 2012, the pictures become increasingly resonant.

Rebecca Banatvala (Hana) and Juliana Yazbeck (Niqabi Ninja) give compelling performances. Nevertheless, one can’t help but wonder if the piece would have been even more effective had it taken another artistic form, whether as a stage play or an animated cartoon.

That said, following the promenade route on Thursday evening, as the streets filled with people heading to the local nightspots, gave director Catrin Evans’s production a powerful sharpness. Niqabi Ninja is not a comfortable experience, but it is a deeply important one.