Review: Brendon Burns & Craig Quartermaine in Race Off, Fringe 2017

No one goes into a Brendon Burns gig expecting a safe, light hearted chuckle so having him pair up with “charming ball of rage” Craig Quartermaine on the premise of discussing race is certainly going to set off a few triggers. Before this show, I don’t think I’d ever heard what white guilt sounds like – it sounds like agitated silence, it turns out. An intake of breath, minor rustlings, but mostly overwhelming, oppressive silence. Well, when I say silence I mean Burns cackling away on stage as we all wriggle and collectively try to fold ourselves in half as a coping mechanism while our whiteness is put under siege.

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Review: Dane Baptiste – G.O.D. (Gold. Oil. Drugs.), Fringe 2017

Dane Baptiste only recently entered the orbit of my awareness after his appearance on Frankie Boyle’s New World Order. I found his style a perfect measure of articulate anger that made me laugh and take notice, leaving a lasting impression that prompted me to look him up on Twitter a few days later. It was a good decision as I have since been constantly amused and impressed by his crusades battling internet dickheads (of which there are many). 

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Review: Neil Delamere – Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Pensioner, Fringe 2017

Walking through the doors of the Gilded Balloon at the Museum and into the auditorium I was greeted with a decent-sized room packed with seating. The seats were filling up fast so I grabbed one in the middle, half way up the steep stairs, trying my best not to tip forward and tumble head first into the crowd in the lower rows. I had no idea what to expect as I awaited for the show to start and, as the audience grew, I realised that I was in the minority by not knowing who Delamere was.

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Review: The Cribs – 24-7 Rock Star Shit

In 1994 a computer game called Quarantine came out. It used the DOOM engine in an interesting new way by making the player a cab driver in a post-apocalyptic city. You would drive around picking up passengers and driving them about – the other pedestrians were infected with a disease that turned them into crazed killers and often walked in front of your car forcing you to mow them down, blood running down the windshield. I mention this because, most memorably, the car radio featured a host of songs by alternative rock bands who were never heard from again.

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Review: Romans

The IMDB synopsis for this film is “An adult victim of childhood sexual abuse confronts the horrors of his past” and having sat looking at blank screen for thirty or so minutes I’m damned if I can better it. Romans is directed by the Shammasian Brothers from a deeply personal Geoff Thompson script that wades through the wreckage left by abuse while exploring the ongoing damage caused by all who are touched by it.

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