Provided.

Japanese Samurai Don Quixote Challenging Against Giant English Windmills

By Clarissa Fortin

“If you don’t come to my show I will stay in your room and be your friend forever!”

This is what Hiroshi Shimizu claims he told people on the street while trying to promote his very first English comedy act at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. While it’s supposed to be a threat, the prospect of his friendship doesn’t seem all that bad. Shimizu is exuberant, hilarious, and not shy about declaring his love for everyone in the room.

Being a “Japanese comedian working on his English” is his main shtick, but Shimizu mines an entire hour of strangely inspiring comedy from that simple
premise.

Japanese as a language simply isn’t compatible with stand-up comedy, Shimizu says.

Frustrated with the “quite quite terrible, fucking terrible,” English education in Japan and the lack of stand-up opportunities, Shimizu travelled alone to
Edinburgh to try his hand at being a stand-up comedian. He regales the audience with tales of routines performed under a “shower of boos and fuck yous,” racist encounters with border guards, and maybe the most painstaking interview imaginable with a Times journalist.

He might be only one man, but Shimizu fills the room both literally and figuratively as he tells these stories. He leaps around onstage wearing a bright orange and purple jumpsuit, sweating profusely and using various groans, moans, and pained facial expressions to bemoan the difference between Japanese and English, which is “too logical.”

Shimizu might joke constantly about being unable to convey what he wants to in English, but by the time the light goes down for his final poignant treatise about “comedy boats,” the entire audience understands.

EFT-up: Just Like You

By Clarissa Fortin

“Just Like You” opens with a series of disarmingly insecure and desperate people demanding audience attention.

“Do you like me?” they ask. “Does it matter when I talk?”

By the end of the show the answer is most likely a “yes.”

“Just Like You” is a brand new show from Ottawa group Experimental Farm Theatre. The energetic seven-actor ensemble performs a series of sketches that range from surreal to reality-grounded satire. These include a harrowing bus ride with the ultimate manspreader, a disturbingly paranormal game of “Cards Against Humanity,” and a wildly unpredictable Tinder date.

The cast displays a skill for capturing absurdity and a knack for physical comedy, especially during the bus scene. The musical interludes with Allison Harris and Kristen Shahid are also a highlight—Harris garners huge laughs when she performs an ode to a boyfriend with a delightfully subversive twist.

I won’t spoil it here, though. It’s a twist that should really be seen in person.

Magical Mystery Tour

By Craig Lord

Veteran of the stage Gemma Wilcox takes the audience through a carousel of characters in her “Magical Mystery Detour,” a one-woman show that feels like anything but.

The playwright, producer, and performer of the show guides Sandra (and 22 other unique personalities) around a near-empty stage, taking the character on a meaningful trip to accept the losses of both her mother and boyfriend.

Wilcox brings to the stage the grace and presence you might expect from a 16-time “Best of Fest” winner. Her personalities—ranging from the anxious Sandra to a cheeky fly on the wall—are simple, yet made distinct in her seamless shifts in physicality. Each character lingers onstage after she leaves them, leaving the impression of a full, even crowded stage while she performs alone.

One may be tempted to rely heavily on technical crutches to carry a solo performance like this, but Wilcox’s show is fairly minimalist. The quick pace of her character swaps are only enhanced by the occasional shift in the lights. “Magical Mystery Detour” is a one-woman show that can be quite honestly billed as such.

From the set to her props, Wilcox brings everything in the show to life. A small stumble leads to an encounter with a perverse tree, while her questionable sense of direction is narrated by her old beater’s Scottish brogue. Fully-formed characters in their own right, this supporting cast provides playful vignettes to keep the audience laughing as the mystery detour progresses.

There is a sense throughout the show that Wilcox is challenging the assumed limitations of working alone. Intimate scenes between two characters are not only possible, but beautifully achieved. Games of tennis proceed with a natural rhythm, as does a scene of two dogs humping. It sounds awkward, but I’ll dare you to control your laughter at her commitment to such expert physical humour.

Opening night for the “Magical Mystery Detour” was hindered mainly by an unresponsive audience. The few chances Wilcox had for direct engagement fell flat with lacklustre responses from the crowd. Such is the risk of live theatre.

The show’s story offers a universal theme of feeling lost in life, but brings an uplifting finale and message. “You shouldn’t be following other people’s maps,” suggests one character.

What might be overlooked by many in the audience is the demanding toll of sustaining so many characters for an entire hour with never a breath to herself. She was like an athlete, pushing herself beyond obstacle after obstacle, running a marathon rather than performing a play.

If you’re looking for directions at Fringe Fest this year, take this one as a tip: “Magical Mystery Detour” is a trip any theatre-lover should take.