The Old Fart's festival guide: Last chances

Time marches on: with just two days to go, Chris Bratt continutes his oldies’ guide to the Fringe as he stumbles upon Baden Powell, Caravaggio and some frankly mystifying comedy

‘Pleased to say that several of our favourite shows have been awarded four or five star ratings’ (Chris Bratt)

It’s pretty much the end of the Fringe, with only two official days to go. The stars are very prominent on the posters of the successful. Pleased to say that several of our best shows have also been awarded four or five star ratings. It is also apparent that everyone – actors, flyerers and visitors – is getting a little tired, although many are still out there trying to mop up those who still have slots in their diaries. The past week in our own book was pretty well filled by Monday. It has tended to be somewhat calmer than the previous weeks. This is almost another Cardinal Rule: don’t leave everything to the last week and go home exhausted. It’s supposed to be fun and a holiday.

Many shows will finish on Saturday so the trains south on Sunday will be rammed. I presume this is so performers can enjoy the English bank holiday at home rather than spend it travelling. And it is likely that the bank holiday trains will be diverted or delayed because of “emergency engineering works at Retford” or the dreaded “essential planned engineering works at Doncaster”. Quite why using the word “planned” is supposed to make the delays and replacement buses more palatable, I know not. But I digress.

Cardinal Rule No 1 (never book a morning show if you’ve had a late show the night before) has been broken several times this month. It has to be said that I am not a morning person at the best of times. My mantra, if forced into early consciousness, is, “Look, I’m up and dressed; do not expect speech until 9.30.” Stand up comedian, Stuart Goldsmith (Free Fringe 5 stars) too hates mornings and goes one further: “It takes time for me to build up my personality.” I shall now adopt that sentence too.

Seeking more gentle shows as the week draws to an end (Chris Bratt)

Readers Sand and Pamela (both from Cumbria) think that breaking Cardinal Rule No 1 is akin to burning the candle at both ends and as such have no sympathy. Of course it is, but that is the essence of the Fringe.

Seeking more gentle shows as the week draws to an end. Be Prepared is must-see show for anyone who was a Girl Guide or Boy Scout; Brown Owl and Snowy Owl’s relationship is explored in this cheeky, saucy, musical romp.

And we had to rebook to see an old favourite Tom Allen after his venue was evacuated two weeks ago, apparently due to a technician, in another venue, forgetting to disable the smoke alarm before switching on a smoke machine. Oops! Probably now an ex-technician.

Having been to the Caravaggio exhibition at the National Gallery, a favourite painter of ours, it was natural that we would go to see Between the Darkness (TheSpace on the Mile) which is an unflinching look at the artist’s final years. Another painter, Francis Bacon, is brought to vivid life by Pip Utton (also playing Churchill, Hitler and Mrs Thatcher in separate shows at Pleasance Courtyard and we remember his superb portrayal of the hunchback of Notre Dame at least eight years ago). So powerful is his portrayal that you can believe Bacon is actually there in the room with you. The painter was, famously, a member of Soho’s Colony Club – founded by Muriel Belcher in 1948, and Bacon, Pip reminds us was a founder member. Muriel apparently described her club as "a concentration of camp". Bacon believed that “je me fais jeune”. Maybe a suitable motto for we oldies?

Stuart Maconie tells the story of his retracing the journey of the Jarrow Marchers and tells how many of the towns and cities they passed through have kept the same outlook on life and attitudes to those marchers. And I bought his book!

Are we the only people in Edinburgh who had not seen BBC 3’s Fleabag? Perhaps not, as the original play at the Udderbelly was sold out. There was a goodly sprinkling of old farts in the audience, presumably, like us, there to see what all the fuss was about. Apparently, according to the young person next to me, it was not the TV actress playing the central character but it was a demanding monologue, delivered faultlessly, even if the morality described was not that we were brought up to follow. It’s also on iPlayer so we could catch the full series back at home, if only we had a 10-year-old able to press the right buttons to download it for us. Whatever happened to the VHS?

A catholic selection of shows, I think you’ll agree, and all within a short stroll of each other.

Similarly, we must be the only people in the world not to have seen one single episode of Game of Thrones, so the idea of paying good money to see Thrones! The Musical seemed pointless. In the same way, we have found that many of the comedians’ modern references go over our heads, with mention of bands, drugs, TV shows and films that are not on our elderly radar. We rarely go to see big name comedians – we have seen them on the television after all – and some, we find are somewhat too laid back and lacking in drive to appeal.

Everyone is getting a little tired after a month of mirth and madness (Chris Bratt)

So the question now on everyone’s lips is, “Have you had a good Festival?”

Two overheard comments.

“Did you enjoy the show?” “Well I followed it and kept awake, so I must have done.”

In a very well modulated Morningside accent, one lady of, shall we say, mature years, passing a large poster (of a show that will have to remain undisclosed) to another, “Ooooohh, will you look at that! Well, we’ll not be going to that, Moira.”

We have noticed this year that there is a possible increase in number of seniors around the Fringe. Although I’d like to be able to take some credit for this through these articles, I don’t think I can. Maybe because we oldies are the only ones able to afford it?

Last night, we were invited to go along to a very late night singalong of Rocky Horror – one of my favourite shows, at the Frankenstein Pub. If you were to go in costume, you’d be able to dance of the bar. Unfortunately, we passed up the opportunity, mainly because the last things I think about packing for Edinburgh are my red velvet basque and fishnet stockings.