Well, that’s 2017. At times I feel that I spent a lot of this year preparing for the next, yet I look back and there’s still so much there. Barbecues on St Cath’s Hill nearly burning all the food, the nights where alcohol cancels out that dancing’s a bad idea, rolling about with laughter whilst rehearsing shows that had all the odds against them, laughing just the same with your family in an obscure part of Crete reliving the warmth you feared to lose, getting lost in Edinburgh Old-town with a good mate to watch seven shows in a single day, waving goodbye to familiar faces, the incredible surprises brought by new faces, standing at the top of a small unspoilt Devonshire village descending down a hill towards the sea.. But, most importantly, those nights stuck indoors with your favourite twats either watching mediocre 00’s films with Sainsbury’s SFC chicken bucket or staying up until 3am trying to finish the extended Return of the King with the greatest bastard of them all! Yeah, I’d say that’s a year well-lived. It hasn’t been perfect, but it’s healthy to both celebrate and feel a sensitivity towards the good times you’ve had. In many contexts, I think it’s important to remember that there’s no such thing as ‘just being sensitive’. Happy New Year!
Modern Christmas cynicism isn’t something I’ve ever bought into. Particularly in the UK, whilst our increasingly secularised society has opened the door to a long overdue freedom of thinking, there also seems to be an undercurrent of Christmas-shaming; those who feel superior for disliking the celebration Christmas over those who do.
Whilst I can appreciate the atheist and counter-spiritualistic positions of disliking many aspects of the Christian faith, as well as the anti-capitalistic stance on how corporations abuse the season for that sweet dollar, I cannot help the emotional value Christmas has for me.
As I grow further into the depths of adulthood, with every exciting and terrifying development that it brings, I have always had this safe-place in the year that I get to come back to and be with the family I see increasingly less and less of. Life should be about change, and it should be something that challenges you. However, ‘safe’ is not an ugly feeling and Christmas really is that annual fireplace; a familiar warmth that will always be waiting for me at the end of yet another 365-day journey. I know this will not be Christmas for everyone, but I do not feel bad that this is what it is for me.
In recent years, there has been a growth in intellectual hierarchy of perceiving those who enjoy Christmas as inferior. Because we are the societal slaves to ritual who just go through with the festivities because we have to: we’ve been institutionalised by an ugly marriage of religious doctrine and western capitalistic practice and values. Well, if that’s what makes you celebrate Christmas, then you should definitely stop. But I celebrate Christmas because I genuinely enjoy it.
My argument has always been that, despite whether our prior purpose in life was to simply survive like every other species or not, the human race has now reached a point where it has evolved an improved perception of what the meaning of life is. That purpose? To enjoy it; to experience happiness.
We have evolved the concept of enjoyment, so let’s use it! These cynics spend their lives thinking ‘what’s the logical gain in just living for happiness?’. Well, what’s the point in being a slave to logic when happiness is far more gratifying a life experience? Who’s the real slave here?
As an agnostic, my whole approach to life is to not worry too much about the bigger existential picture; to simply try to be nice to one another and have fun, no matter how successfully that often goes. What’s the point in choosing to dislike one another to simply relish in conflict, hatred and superiority when that gets us nowhere? As some are aware, I struggle with an anxiety that frequently subjects me to a whole host of negative emotions – I don’t have the time to experience negativity when I don’t need to. For me, Christmas is my time to get away from these petty and ugly attitudes that I have to see others express every other waking day and simply enjoy the warmth of what life should be.
Sat in the living room with your family, view from the front window blocked out by the tree, watching tales of optimism with familiar snacks and treats, playing games that bring chuckles of arguments, waiting in anticipation for each other’s facial expressions as they open that present you were so gratified to find, then watching your stupid little dog trying to open said present, before everyone huddles round the table to enjoy a warm dinner that tastes better than any other meal you’ll have that year. In life, your family changes and evolves, but my experience and reliance on Christmas is something I never wish to see the end of. More so this year than ever before, I’ve learnt how much that really means to me.
Honestly, I’m sick of our ‘betters’ pointing to what they consider ‘below’ in an attempt to enforce what should or shouldn’t define us. It’s the individual’s choice what defines them. The fact that there’s two arguments from those supposedly superior to us, just because they got some time on a newspaper’s click-bait by the way, surely suggests that they have as much of a clue as we do; shit all!
There’s no right answer. You can fail school and still accomplish an impressively evil corporation or you can find success through the doors qualifications open; there’s no one path and not everyone is programmed for the same one path. I mean, I’m studying Creative Writing so, if anything, I may find less opportunities from my £21,000+ burden than someone who didn’t bother with uni in the first place, but my poor educational decisions are another story!
Bottom-line is that the older and more experienced need to stop being so dictatorial over what the young should feel they need to define themselves by, just because they happened to come out of a vagina twenty years earlier than us.
comedy review, double acts, edinburgh, edinburgh fringe, fringe, fringe comedy, fringe review, lucy pearman, maid of cabbage, monkey barrel comedy, review, rik carranza, sketch shows, sleeping trees, star trek vs star wars, sugar coma fever nightmare, the canon, the canon a literary sketch show, underbelly
Thursday 10th August
After a traffic jam that turned a twenty-minute bus into forty, we missed the show we’d booked tickets for. However, the guy at the box office said that we could use our tickets for tomorrow’s show and, following a pint of cider and a very persuasive flyerer, we ended up at a nerd-fest upstairs instead:
Rik Carranza Presents: ST vs. SW
(13.10, Monkey Barrel Comedy)
At the end of the day, this show was just an hour of shameless fun, as we watched three geeks rant on a stage. However, Rik Carranza did an excellent job at giving that fun a structure and format that allows him to comfortably change the two guests debating either side every show. With the subjects and questions of debate as well; nothing in the show was too specific or alienating (ha!) for a more casual viewer such as myself. The guy defending Star Trek may have seemed to know as much about it as me, but that didn’t really matter and, even if it had been distracting, you’re never going to have it perfect when bringing in random comedians. The atmosphere was warm and the show was an unexpected bonus to our Fringe.
The Canon: A Literary Sketch Show
(14.40, Underbelly Cowgate)
Three years after I last saw this show, I returned to find that they had boldly refreshed their entire roster of material. It’s always hard to let go of a working formula but, whilst I did miss middle-aged Charlie being depressed under the burden of running the chocolate factory, I was glad to see what else this thematically unique sketch troupe could do. Probably the only show that can identify the holes in my university education, few authors, poets or indeed illustrators (unless ‘Where’s Wally?’ is the height of contemporary metafiction) are left unscathed by the quill that quipped this script together.
Yet, the material is equalled and sometimes excelled by the calibre of the performances in the show which, at one point, left myself and Alex wanting slide onto the floor and die pissing ourselves. Some shows are self-confessed hit-or-miss; this is more like laugh-or-learn, much like what you get from the more intellectual end of Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
If you want a sketch show that diversifies a market so saturated by the straightforward revue, then let The Canon sort you out. Though, make sure you’ve read a book or two first. If you’re a literature student, this should be an absolute liberation!
Sleeping Trees at the Movies – Sci-fi?
(17.30, Pleasance Dome)
Our second time seeing the Trees this Fringe (if you have the time to watch the whole trilogy, do! They alternate everyday), ‘Sci-fi’ may well have upped it for me from ‘Mafia’ (read Part 2 of my Fringe blog for that!). When you’re a group who creates all the characters, story and imagery through voice, body and music, science-fiction must be the hardest genre to execute. But yeah, they did it. Whether it was someone doing a hand stand to form the front and handles of a bike-speeder or a perfectly synchronised robot army, it is easy to overlook what the quality of physical theatre that lies at the backbone of the Sleeping Trees’ work. It’s brings a whole other layer to their comedy and their storytelling, celebrating the fact that they’re in a theatre and not confined to what works on a screen.
Not missing the opportunity to pull in even more obscure jokes through the sci-fi premise, whilst once again working with a fully cohesive story that was easy for the audience to follow, the Trees continue to solidify the ‘narrative comedy’ genre as their domain. Glad we got to see them twice.
Siân and Zoë’s Sugar Coma Fever Nightmare
(18.45, Just the Tonic @The Community Project)
Another gem that proves it’s definitely worth seeing what you find on the flyers down the Royal Mile, this show provided the absurdity that ‘alternative comedy’ is really meant to be about; not just avoiding offensive words. After seeing so many classically-structured sketch shows, it was great to see a double-act completely break those conventions apart and just do their own thing. An organised stream of consciousness, the strange and unusual sketch conceits gave a really enticing blast of imagination and fearlessness. The audience was small, yet laughed with the decibels of double the people there, with myself and Alex certainly contributing to that.
There was also an unconventional level of audience participation in this sketch show, with provided a very engaging blend of sketch and character stand-up. A highlight would be a section where Siân and Zoë fished for dreams in the audience: his typical self, Alex revealed his dream about drowning in Tennent’s beer. Yet, I have little to criticise when I recall my response to thinking of a famous historical building; let’s just say, the building’s not there anymore. I think I need some kind of psychological analysis after that one. Though, to her (Siân’s) credit, she took the diabolical thing I said and managed to run with it.
Regardless, this show was one of my favourites on the Fringe this year and it deserves far more of an audience so please don’t miss them out if you’re going and somehow found yourself reading this!
True to its title, this show’s a mishmash of what’s on at the Fringe, each act getting a ten-minute set to provide a sample of their main show. I always love this event as it exposes you to performers you would’ve otherwise missed. Leading out with a strong compere, we got a strong variety of stand-ups, double acts and a musical comedy group to finish off. Great time, excellent show, no more to be said…
…and that has nothing to do with the double-act Next Best Things. I mean, I’m constructive in my opinions, not another male swayed by the slightest bit of female attention; you can’t just flirt with me in the middle of your act and, there you go, you’re hilarious. What am I saying? As soon as what was happening made itself clear, it took one turn to Alex next to me for him to burst into an absolute fit, as he genuinely laid himself across the next three seats, pissing himself. And I.. Well, I had a great time. I’m sorry, but if you ask “can I call you ‘Sexy James’?” I’m going to enjoy the act! Honestly though, they had some brilliantly surreal ideas and are another act who seamlessly fuse audience interaction into sketch comedy with hilarious effect. If anyone has the chance, their actual show is 16.45 at Pleasance Courtyard. If I wasn’t on the train back the next day by then, I certainly know I would’ve gone.
*may contain traces of bias and bad maths.
Friday 11th August
Lucy Pearman: Maid of Cabbage
(12.30, Monkey Barrel Comedy)
To end our time in Edinburgh, we got to see a true show of the Fringe; an absurdist solo character comedy. Despite solo character comedy being one of the most difficult things to pull off, Lucy Pearman made it look as easy as putting on another set of clothes. When the focus is on a singular character, every slight action or mannerism counts and Pearman had a strong command of this. That was what impressed me the most about this show: how well she immersed herself and held onto that character for the duration of the show. Some would assume that’s not as important in comedy as drama; it bloody-well is. You need to believe in the character before you can invest enough to laugh at it.
The audience interaction is also very prominent: I mean, just from the fact she gave the entire front row a cabbage, you should get a feel from the tone without me spoiling too much. I wasn’t left out either, though I think she may have regretted that. You see, she placed a tall black soldier’s hat on my head and, failing to turn my performer side off for a second, I decided to respond ‘in-character’. Looking back now, that was probably a bit unhelpful but it was a laugh all the same and she ran with it very well.
Through well-conceived and executed characterisation, Pearman managed to keep us under her hilarious, often endearing but even more often sinister trance for an entire hour. Usually, with character comedy, that can feel like an awful long time. With Lucy Pearman, we wanted it to be longer.
Thank you for ending our time at the Edinburgh Fringe 2017 with such an A-class show.
I’ll have my concluding thoughts up in the next few days or so, but that is now all seventeen shows we saw that I have reviewed. Going back through them all was a great way to reaffirm them in my memory, and sure they’ll be there for some time. I hope to learn from all the excellence I saw at this year’s Fringe and carry it over when we perform there next year. Let’s hope!
art festival, comedy review, edinburgh, edinburgh fringe, frankie boyle, fringe 2017, fringe reviews, late 'n' live, latenight comedy, leeds tealights, review, show reviews, sketch revue, stand up comedy, the warwick revue
Slash Theatre: The Room in the Elephant
(14.15, Heroes @The Hive)
To the credit of the three performers, they’d already been handed a poor turnout of about five people and still persevered through the whole show. Unfortunately, the show itself was quite a tough watch. It was clear that a lot of thought had been put into homing in the metaphysical concept of the show being about itself: three characters in a room trying to come up with a show. However, there is only so many times you can rely on “so I’ll be saying these very words in the play right now… and those words.. and those ones.” When it looked like this bit was only the opening of the show, it was okay; then I realised that was the show. Whilst I appreciate the efforts that this group put into selling us this angle, this show needed more to it. When your show is essentially like a version of The Muppet Show where it’s only the in-between backstage sections, only set three-months before when the show hasn’t even been written yet, it’s really difficult to hold an audience’s attention for an entire hour. Occasionally they had more abstract moments to evoke the absurdist genre they were labelled with, but even they didn’t sit well with the rest of the show.
The jokes themselves never really clicked with the near-silent audience either, with one of the often-repeated lines being “I just think the audience will just find this bit really boring:” I’m not saying it was, it’s just that putting those words into the audience’s heads isn’t the greatest thing to do in any show. There was one woman enjoying herself behind us, but when it was revealed she was a plant the whole time to pay-off a joke at the end, I’m afraid that was the final nail in the coffin for me.
The Warwick Revue Presents: Night Shift
(17.15, Black Market)
Like our previous show, this one had a small, though slightly larger, turnout. Yet, it deserved far more; precisely why people shouldn’t be afraid of trying the Free Fringe. As you’ll see below, we saw three sketch revues in a row. This free one was on-par with the two paid ones and quite possibly contained the cleverest writing. Whilst they are evidently still feeling the waters with what does and doesn’t work – I mean I can’t relate to that at all – the show we got just kept getting stronger and stronger as it went on. There were some true moments of brilliance peppered across the show, which I will not ruin, and all of the sketches were very different and diverse. One of my favourite sketches may have not even been one that gets you roaring with laughter, but the discipline behind the sheer speed of the performances had both myself and Alex in awe.
Please do not overlook The Warwick Revue.
Leeds Tealights: Fix Us
(18.35, Just the Tonic @The Caves)
In terms of performance, this was the strongest sketch revue I saw. Immediately displaying an electric sense of confidence, The Tealights were evidently very well-versed in working a Fringe audience. The sketch-writing was strong, but the execution was the real star. For sketch comedy, it is well-known that have to be able to convincingly pull off a variety of characters and that was certainly no issue for these guys. One sketch got laughs purely out of the excellence of the accents, and that’s not in a bad way at all. For me, it was inspiring to see this group of truly comedically gifted performers in-action. Excellent show and, thanks to one sketch, I now know what sort of service I expect in Subway.
Bristol Revunions: Glass
(19.55, Just the Tonic @The Caves)
Another solid sketch show, with plenty of creative and wonderfully bizarre ideas throughout – the best probably being the Monopoly sketch which I won’t spoil. The only critique I’d have of this show is the murder-mystery arc used to hold the show together, which sometimes left me waiting for the next sketch to start. However, this issue is minor at best and I really enjoyed this revue as well.
One thing I did notice with all three sketch revues was their similarity in structure. Whilst there needs to be a main ‘tentpole’ sketch that can be returned to throughout the show, as I learnt myself the hard way, all three went for playing themselves in the same ‘behind-the-scenes’ Muppet-type premise. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with it; just something I picked up on.
Frankie Boyle: Prometheus Volume 1
Going into the venue, it was strange to walk into such a large theatre for a show at the Fringe. Whilst this may have meant the show didn’t have the same intimacy as others we’ve seen had, there wasn’t much quarrel that this particular show needed one; it’s Frankie Boyle. A man who certainly lived up to the reputation he’s built, we were provided with an hour of gloriously explicit and specific filth, which Boyle managed to apply pretty much everything he spoke about. Observation, satire, Scotland, the Royals; nothing was safe from the tyranny of those unbeatable and unforgiving similes and tangents that he is so well-known for.
However, as ashamed as I am to say it, the moment that really exposed what force of nature was on the stage came about when one unknowing idiot attempted to heckle. The moment you heard the words “what about Brexit?” sound with illy-prepared drunken English confidence, you saw the lion turn and lurch towards the prey that had just fallen into his den. The inaudible slurs of the man were like that of a pathetic little scavenger scrambling against the side, desperately trying to claw their way out. It was no good: the almighty predator tore them apart and left them to rot.. outside because the guy got kicked out in the end.
Once again, Frankie Boyle puts class into the unclassy.
Late ‘n’ Live
(1.00, Gilded Balloon Teviot)
Now, whilst level of professionalism that a Frankie Boyle-type is something to behold at, it’s Late ‘n’ Live where the truly raw stand-up comedy comes in. Now, I am aware that this notorious early-morning drinks-fest.. has allegedly become ‘tamer’ over the years.. apparently that’s a thing. However, as a first-time audience member, it would appear that the event’s reputation is now attracting some really great rising talent. Perhaps the time of night, atmosphere and cocktails we’d had before helped a bit, but I laughed at every act that came on.
Yet, it was definitely compere John Hastings who owned the show, who held the whole audience of people under alcohol or worse (yes, they were there) so seamlessly. A true off-the-cuff comedian, practically all his material came off of audience interaction. Also, I’d recommend checking out Larry Dean’s solo show, which will most likely be anything close to gold if his L’n’L set was anything to go by.
More tomorrow, which will have reviews for Thursday 10th and Friday 11th (though, we did only see one show on the Friday!
Cambridge, cambridge footlights, edinburgh fringe, footlights, fringe, fringe 2017, fringe reviews, fringe shows, improv, improverts, shit-faced shakespeare, shitfaced showtime, sleeping trees, sleeping trees at the movies, wizard of oz
(12.00, Pleasance Dome)
The only show we saw outside of the comedy bracket, this being a physical theatre piece, Form is a self-evident result of the performers devising and playing around. With entertaining results, the title ‘Form’ reflects the fact that the show doesn’t have any specific form or structure. Set in a typically systematic office space, the characters’ ever-increasing digression into inventively fooling around with work supplies and such creates a fascinating correlation between the fiction and the working atmosphere in which the fiction was created. Whilst this fluid structure does slow down a bit in the latter half, it makes for a refreshingly creative use of a ‘imagination restricted to environment’ premise. The show leaves you with provocative ideas of having your potential trapped in a box of staplers and window blinds; something that the performers themselves are most likely attempting to escape with this very show. For the best sequence using the ‘going down the stairs’ illusion I’ve ever seen alone, this is worth the watch.
The Cambridge Footlights International Tour 2017: Dream Sequence
(16.00, Pleasance Dome)
Obviously, the Footlights has had its place as the podium for tomorrow’s talent for almost as long as the Fringe itself. Consequently, whilst you expect a stellar and hilarious show, you also unfairly carry the stigma that these performers will have a cold awareness of their brilliance. However, as I watched my first Footlights revue, that never came across at all. Like the rest of the best, they were just a phenomenally talented group of performers wanting to put on a good show.
The hit-and-miss ratio leaning far closer to the former, there were so many sparks of genius throughout the show. If it wasn’t the spot-on writing, it was how the performers took from and worked off the writing and, if it wasn’t that, it was how these performers worked with the audience: watch out for an absolutely killer sketch with two teachers trying to crowd control a school coach. Whilst the show would have worked fine without the more politically-heavy sketches, they are still very funny and the show is by no means lesser with their inclusion. An A-class revue and, in a time where the world begins to speed up, it is a credit to the Footlights for keeping to their classic structure of largely three-minute-long sketches and fully relish the ideas in the material.
Sleeping Trees at the Movies: Mafia?
(17.30, Pleasance Dome)
They are the best. This may have already been my stance, prior to this year, but seeing the show again simply reaffirmed the Sleeping Trees as my favourite group at the Fringe. They are the full package: fully-developed narratives with a large cast of characters and changing environments clearly defined and realised through the physical and vocal talents of three performs and one musician: how do they do it? With this show being ‘Mafia’, the conventions of this genre are also excellently observed and executed, as is said conventions in ‘Sci-fi’, but I’ll be reviewing that one later! Having now done these shows for the past couple of years, the Trees’ comfort within these shows are very much their gain: being able to identify the precise moments to stick to the story or to improvise and attempt to crack each other up without any risk of deterring the audience and losing the story. It is a remarkable balance that is kept and controlled by the trio’s firm chemistry and understanding of one another. I was glad to return to the unbeatable escapism they provide and to see Alex experience Sleeping Trees for the first time.
Shit-faced Showtime: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
(22.00, Underbelly Med Quad)
Very much what it says on the empty can, this is basically an unaltered adaptation of Wizard of Oz with a drunken cast member thrown into it and, whilst I was hoping for a more inventive comedic retelling, what we got was entertaining enough. Seeing these trained musical theatre performers having to work around this piss-head mucking up everything was truly something to behold. In our performance, the drunkard was the Tin Man whose decision to instead seek Oz for a new personality was definitely the highlight. However, it has to be said, the moments when the drunk wasn’t on stage and the musical was just being performed straight did seem to drag along a bit and this is when a more comedic script could have been brought in to great effect. Also, during the songs, it was unfortunate that these talented musical theatre performers’ voices were at the mercy of a faulty microphone system. Overall, though, we came out of this show having had a great time.
(00.30, Bedlam Theatre)
Any apprehensions that improvisation’s an easy scapegoat will be challenged by The Improverts. Whilst pre-written material is inevitably more polished, watching what a performer is capable of when working off-the-cuff is truly something to behold and, in this case, that was a recklessly entertaining hour-long show. Though many of the stimulant games were not too dissimilar to what we play at the Winchester drama society, through sheer wit and general eye for comedy, this group were able to seamlessly use said games to generate entire five-minute sketches.
The Improverts also have a clear understanding that the best way to show improvisation in-action is to let the audience make a lot of the decisions, when it came to choosing the premise/character/setting of a game. Not only this but, in the final game, they open the stage up to the audience to join in at any time; an offer which Lucie, Alex and myself were, of course, eager to take up. In fact, once I’d come up and done a bit, they made me and another fella bow with them, much to our amused embarrassment. Thank you so much to The Improverts for such an upbeat and fun end to our first day at the Fringe. 4.5/5
That’s all for now, I’ll have what we saw last Wednesday written up for tomorrow.
Between Tuesday 8th August and Friday 11th August, myself and Mr Alexander Denley Spencer III saw seventeen shows at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe Festival because we forgot how bank accounts work. We labelled the whole thing as a ‘research trip’ for our own Fringe campaign, which we are doing as the Biscuit Barrel next year, but blatantly that’s just a misleading professional term for ‘watching lots of stuff and pissing about’. Through shows, chips, Tennent’s beer and a couple escapades with the brilliant Miss Lucie Strannack and co, we really enjoyed our fleeting time in Edinburgh – the best city in August (who needs the sun?).
Despite the prior three times I’d gone – though this time I did remove Alex’s Fringe chastity belt – this year definitely felt different; if it were ever possible to stand on a horizon, that was what this year felt like. The excitement of channelling through the flyer-wavers and street performers down the thriving current of the Royal Mile evoked daring thoughts of ‘this could be us next year’ like they’d never done before. Since I was fifteen-years-old, I’ve wanted to perform on the Fringe, but it wasn’t until this year that the idea had real a weight of reality to it.
Of course, this weight carries a pound of angst in it too: this dream project is a gamble and, like any big gamble, a lot of dollar’s involved. A Fringe performer puts the best they can do out to the public, just to see if it can do anything and that is terrifying stuff. With this in mind, as I do my reviews of what I’ve seen this year, and whilst I do not expect any of these performers to ever come across what I have just dribbled onto my blog, I will not forget the effort that has been put behind these shows and will try to be as respectful as I can, whilst still giving an honest opinion of how I felt about them. With sketch shows, improv shows, character comedians, late-night stand-ups, awkward self-aware shows and physical theatre to cover, I better get cracking.
But, as a general comment, thank you to this year’s festival for giving me the most well-rounded Fringe I’ve ever had and next year, with a bit of luck, we too will be on a makeshift stage in a converted workhouse.
Thanks to the – as of today – sadly departed Peter Sallis, what could have been portrayed as an obnoxious character – someone who gets his dog to do everything for him, before sussing that he did it all himself – was instead played with a charming and welcoming sense of naivety. Through his career-defining vocal performance, all that Wallace did never felt mean or unfriendly; just innocent and oblivious. It was the whimsical and gentle politeness of his voice that made many see the character to represent the best kind of British.
Sitcom may possibly be my favourite medium, but I’m not going to pretend I’ve ever watched Last of the Summer Wine. For me, Peter Sallis was Wallace – a character that has been part of my life since the first few years of it. I may not have watched when I was a baby, but I could hear and, by the time I was a toddler, Wallace’s voice already brought a warming sense of familiarity. Even in the pair’s feature outing – The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (2005) – performances from Ralph Fiennes and Helena Bonham-Carter were overshadowed by the then already 85-year-old Sallis.
In the early 80s, when student animator Nick Park first cast and paid Sallis £50 for A Grand Day Out (not finished until 1989), he unwittingly paired a cultural icon.
Hilarious to adults and friendly to children, I would like to thank the man whose voice brought a smile to all.
“Goodbye, Chuck.” Peter Sallis: 1921-2017.
“If Anyone Kills A Person It Would Be As If He Killed All Mankind.”
When you exclaim “this is for Allah” and proceed to commit blasphemy against the very words of his supposed faith. A story can sound very different between individual storytellers, especially when said storyteller doesn’t read it very well. Last night, these ideological illiterates exposed their idiocy and took seven lives in the process.
Writing this short story went south and I’ve scrapped it for now, but I was pretty happy with this passage all the same, so here ya go…
At its most piercing, alienation spawns from attention. One force causing the complete opposite. I know that sounds rather odd, considering the whole idea is to feel isolated from everyone else. Those moments stuck beside a group in an exclusive world, whilst you’re no more than a mute moon orbiting it. They happen and they hurt. Yet, what worsens these woes is when these walled-off worlds decide to look up. And catch us floating.