Kath Mainland – Farewell for Now

In many ways it feels like just yesterday we were celebrating the launch of the 2009 Fringe and yet in other ways it feels like months ago. What an amazing adventure it’s been. Over the last three and a half weeks I have seen some amazing work, sometimes perfectly trivial and enormously entertaining, sometimes incredibly challenging and often hugely moving. I have been blown away by the creative energy, artistic vision and drive of the people taking part, from performers and directors, to venue producers and promoters. There are many reasons why you would chose to bring a show to the Fringe, but this year it seems as though the process of making art is as important as ever We’ve made many new friends as well been reunited with some of our dearest ones, we’ve seen surprise hit shows and stars born; but like all good things, the Fringe has to come an end for one more year. As we wipe a collective tear and imagine what 2010 has in store, please join me in congratulating all of the performers, venues, staff and of course, the Fringe audiences, who make the Fringe what it is. Without the hard work, talent and dedication of so many thousands of people over many months the Fringe would not be the great institution it is today. I am very proud to be involved in this unique celebration of the arts and can wholeheartedly say that this year has been one of the best Festivals in my twenty years in and around Edinburgh. If, like me, you are wondering where the time went and cannot wait for next year’s festivities then remember this quote. “One way to get the most out of life is to look upon it as an adventure.” Thank you for this year’s great adventure and I look forward to seeing you all next year for the next amazing adventure.

Hayley Shillitoe – ‘Sex, drugs and Mariliyn Monroe’

This is my fourth time at the Edinburgh Festival and I have to say this has been my best experience yet. The show has had an extremely successful run and has received some fantastic reviews from critics and audiences alike. I have thoroughly enjoyed performing to sell out audiences, the sun has been shining and everyone is smiling on the Royal Mile – What more could you ask for? Half of the Edinburgh experience is about meeting other performers and comparing your flyer techniques, one interesting one that I’ve heard is ‘free flyers’ and one that our lead character uses is ‘scratch and sniff flyers’ it seems to get the passers by attention! We have also given out wristbands this year and they have gone down a storm, its great to meet someone who is wearing one and realising that they ‘want Heroin(e) for Breakfast’. The highlight of the festival so far was when we received an award from Fringe Review for outstanding theatre – That really was a shock when they asked for the cast to come back out on stage after the show to present us with our teapot! We were absolutely made up with it and still are. The award is currently sitting on our mantelpiece in our rented accommodation… We’ve avoided the chat about who’s going to take it home, it would be awful if it somehow ‘fell’ into my suitcase!! I’m sad that its all nearly over, but our last shows will be the best yet… Even the extra show added at 00.30 on Friday 28th of August. Come and see Heroin(e) for Breakfast… Sex, drugs and Marilyn Monroe! Heroin(e) for breakfast is on at the Underbelly but hurry today is the last performance. For future touring dates visit their website.

Harry Michell – ‘Relocation, Relocation, Relocation!’

It has been a hell of a week for us boys from Still Waiting for Godot. Upon arriving on Monday for the last week of the Fringe, chins up and ready to perform, we were informed that our original performance space (St. James’ Toilets) was not able to be used due to confusion with performance licences. We initially began by trying to apply for a fast-track licence with a show due to begin in less than 24 hours but, try as we might, the fastest the council were able to attain one was within ‘hmm…I’d say earliest four weeks’. It seemed all was lost and our debut was set to wait another year. With fading enthusiasm, and help from the lovely people at Fringe Central, we began calling round some fringe venues despairingly searching for a new toilet to use. Hours rolled by and I was ready to curl up in a corner, rocking and singing old show tunes, when I received a call from ‘C Venues’ informing us that they may indeed have a vacant bog. ‘Hallelujahs’ could be heard from the rafters as we confirmed our new venue at C Central and, as it turns out, the new toilets are bigger, better located and generally more pleasant to roll around in. So every cloud… As well as a sudden change of venue, there’s also been high drama mid-performance…not just referring to play. During our evening production an audience member collapsed onto the tiled flooring. By sheer coincidence it was at the exact moment that two of the actors also collapse to the floor, thus leaving everybody (including the cast) in deliberation as to whether the bloke was genuinely insentient or merely playing along. Luckily the man’s girlfriend knew differently and swiftly helped him out of the loos and the production continued. I’m pleased to say that after a glass of water and some fresh air everybody left well and healthy. The Metro has dubbed us ‘the unluckiest show on the fringe’ and perhaps they could be right, but we are getting some fantastic feedback and waiting for some reviews to come through so, unless we are struck by some sort of lav-specific apocalypse, the show must and will go on! ‘Still waiting for Godot’ is on twice a day at C Central until the 31st of August. Tickets cost only £5.

Stefan Golaszewski – ‘He made more noises, which I laughed at, and went to hospital’

So I’ve been worried about my friend Fletch. The other night he was making all types of noises over a toilet. It was funny, because he sounded like an animal, but also frightening, because he sounded like an animal. He’s a tiny little man so the thought of there actually being anything in his body to come out is itself surprising. He’s the width of one of my arms. At about 3am I went for a wee. He was white and miserable on the sofa. His little beak pointed up at God. His girlfriend, Anna, was dithering in the living room, moving things and panicking. He made more noises, which I laughed at, and went to hospital. In the hospital, I wasn’t there, but I imagine him grabbing his stomach and staggering. Fletch is an excellent human. He’s kind and concerned and thoughtful. He’s lovely to his girlfriend and has the same coat as me. I wish I was more like him. He’s been working on three shows at the festival and drinking and staying out until eventually his body went ping. I’m probably not the first person to say this, but there should be a system where the people I don’t like get iller than the people I do. Nothing would please me more than to read an article about Huntley catching a bug. But not Fletch. Not warm, caring, tiny Fletch, with his glasses as big as his smile and that stylish, brilliant coat. He’s fine now. He’s milking it a bit, I think, and makes his girlfriend get things for him. It’s nice to see him back to his old self. This morning, as I cleaned my teeth, he sat by me on the floor to put his socks on. ‘Stefan Golaszewski is a widower’ is playing at the Traverse until Sunday 30th August.

Jane Bussman – ‘I’m feeling recklessly giddy’

I’m feeling recklessly giddy on the train to Waverley: Bussmann’s Holiday / The Worst Date Ever has turned into a book, and despite the fact it’s filled with filthy jokes about war criminals and celebrities, people get the joke. Doing the show again at the Assembly Rooms? What could possibly go wrong? I arrive in Edinburgh to alarming news. The critics are coming to the first show – no chance to get the feel for an Edinburgh audience instead of soft Southern shite. No chance to nobble the critics, get them drunk, tell them the show is AWESOME. I call a very nice man from Roar With Laughter to panic. He very kindly calls a very nice friend Sajeela Kershi of Spirits of the Fringe: would I like to come down and do a bit of my show at her Counting Rooms prestigious show-sampler evening? Perfect, I blather, brilliant, yes please: that’ll fix critics’ night nerves. Maybe some of them’ll be there. Three things didn’t occur to me. One, Bussmann’s Holiday / The Worst Date Ever is a technical show like Dave Gorman, lots of jokes based around video clips and there’s no time to organise a projector. No problem, I figure; I’ll read a chunk out of the book, the crazy bit everyone likes about the Ugandan policemen. JANE: “Someone’s stolen my computer.” COP: “Where is he? I’ll shoot him in the head!” JANE: “Could I just get a police report?” COP: “Do you have one?” JANE: “I… hoped you might have…” COP: (STERN) “Madam. We’ve only got one police report, and we need it.” The policeman then asked me on a date, giving me his number on the back of an old police questionnaire. A rape questionnaire. The second thing that didn’t occur to me is I don’t have a copy of the book. The third thing is I was on my way to a retro 30th birthday party dressed apparently as Tammy Wynette in cowboy boots and lace frock. I career across Edinburgh in cabs, get the book, run onstage, read it out. The crowd stares: why is this Tammy Wynette drag queen doing a rape-themed Jackanory? They chuckle and tell the drag queen they’ll see his show. But I stumble out traumatized and can’t find a cab. It starts raining. I finally find a taxi rank and ask if anyone wants to share. A nice Scottish lady joins me. “What are you up here for?” she says. I almost climb on her knee for comfort. “I’m doing a show at Assembly,” I whimper, “Oh God, I’ve just done a test, I’ve got critics coming in on Monday and I was so bad I think it’s doomed. Honestly I was awful. I mean awful.” The nice Scottish lady says, “Are you Jane Bussmann?” A pause. “Who are you?” I venture. “I’m a critic for the Scotsman,” she replies. As luck would have it, she was a critic with a sense of humour. Jane Busman performs in Bussman’s Holiday: The Worst Date Ever until 30 August. To book tickets click here.

Johnny McKnight – ‘Little Johnny’s Big Gay Pakora Diet?’

It’s official. Glaswegians can’t negotiate their way around the ‘burgh and that is why taxi drivers love us.Yesterday I caught a taxi to a bridge of King George-The-Something. The total cost was £2.80. It turned out my destination was, quite literally, round the corner.  Nice money for the shortest ride since the days of drinking Peach Concorde. I’m a Fringe Virgin and, boy, are my eyes opening up quick. It’s the only place in the world where you can find yourself at midnight in a pub singing about your man-boobs or dressed up in a nappy straddling a stranger all in the name of selling tickets and getting noticed. It is nothing short of mental. And that is why people come here every year. So far I’ve found myself giving dating tips to mind-readers, waking up in hotel rooms where I’ve no idea how I got there, surviving on a staple diet of naan bread and pakora and discovering that it now only takes two pints of cider to have me asking for Kylie at an Indie club. It’s a different world.  And we’re all invited. The show is going fabulously, despite initial fears – will people turn up?  Will the reviews be okay?  What if my mum hates it?  And me, well I am shattered… people tell you the Fringe is all about drinking?  Not when you’ve a 10pm show.  It’s all about sleeping, and feeling out-of-sorts when it’s daytime, and looking forward to the show at night.  Also, still on the bright side, it’s dropped me a waist size…. Hmmm, 2010: Little Johnny’s Big Gay Pakora Diet? There might be something in that. Johnny McKnight stars in ‘Little Johnny’s Big Gay Musical’ until August 30. To book tickets click here.

Renato Ciaravino- ‘We are going to end our life selling fish on solitary street corners’

6.00pm Ahhhh!!! There are no tickets sold for our show! It’s terrible! It’s the end! We are going to end our life selling fish on solitary street corners in the cities and towns of northern Italy …We want to go home, to the sea, the sun… We didn’t understand it would be so difficult working here! 7.00pm Someone shouts: “Ok, no problem, I have an idea, I know what we must do: we must go to the Royal Mile and do something special… something more special than all the others companies… Yeah! We must do something crazy… something that nobody else has thought … 7.15 pm Here we are in the Royal Mile but what’s happening… there are 50 other companies … They are crazy people… and they have the same idea as us… Nobody sees us! Half an hour of crazy things and still not a ticket sold… it starts to rain… and we have a cold coming on… maybe we will die of pneumonia 8.00pm But wait, something is happening! We are surrounded by people, they like us, they will come to our show… but no, they only want to take a photo with us… exotic italians! Berlusconi! Berlucconi! The cheerful Scottish girl, she says she is under 18 and we should send her photo to Berlusconi… They leave laughing… We have no audience tonight. IT’S A FAILURE!… Slowly we go back to our flat… our heads are down… tonight, carrot soup take away… from Scotmid… OUR ESCAPE! We have dinner… one hour to rest… and then off to C Venue… where we have no audience… 11.00pm “Hey guys – there are four tickets sold! We have an audience! Incredible!” Tonight – four people. Tomorrow – 5 stars! We’ll be an overnight success! Interviews with the Scotsman, Guardian, the Herald… “Oh thanks! We are pleased you loved the show. Yes, it’s very exhausting. We are worried. Burlesconi is a very powerful man, maybe he will report us… But it’s ok… it’s a struggle…” 11.05pm We have a problem… In our audience of four, three are Italian… one is French… We usually perform in English… and the three Italians don’t speak English! So the show is only for our dear French person… So if somebody wants to see the show tonight… WE HAVE SPARE SEATS! Serate Bastarde shows at C Venues until 31st . To book tixkets click here.