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Fringe binge minefield.

January 7, 2017

Yes folks. It’s that time of year again. When your Tiser lands on your driveway with an ominously loud thud and you realise that…

It’s “FRINGE” time.

Which means that you are faced with the formidable (read impossible) task of trying to stretch you entertainment budget over a bewildering cornucopia of talent and crap.

Burnt into my memory box over the past decade or so are the good, the bad, and the unfortunate.

The complete works of Shakespeare in 45 minutes (or was it 50?). A tour de force which, coincidentally, demonstrated just how small the world is. Some months after being in the audience I was in the queue at a confectionery stall at the re-created town of Williamstown in the US of A when the man in front of me commented on my accent.  Adelaide?  I was there for your wonderful arts festival with a condensed tribute to the Bard.

That was my “Good”.

The “Bad”. Another condensed piece of history. This time about wartime Britain. The audience of five watched mesmerised as a Cockney couple farewelled their soldier son…whose accent and skin tone was pure Calcutta!

The unfortunate? Getting inextricably hemmed in at a bistro-sized venue near the Central Market… the only straight couple in the audience.

Have a GREAT Fringe…


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