Amelia Jane Hunter is Keith Flipp (the Girl from Belkondowns Flat) is a darkly comic show bording on drama or Fringe theatre, and while containing elements of character-based stand-up, was clearly confrontational for some audience members the night I saw it, who didn't quite seem to know how to handle either the show or Hunter's larger than life character.
At first glance Keith Flipp is a drag queen, but we soon learn he's not a man pretending to be a woman (or to be precise, a woman playing a man pretending to be a woman); he really is a man, trapped in a woman's body - his sister's body to be precise. Amelia was an 8 pound baby girl who grew into a 7yr old boy. In scientific terms, she's a chimera - also known as vanishing twin syndrome - a person whose body contains two different sets of genetic material as a result of one fetus being absorbed into the other in utero. In this instance though, the two personalities have survived in the one body, with startling results.
Keith is only let out for one week every three months by his sister, during which time he takes drugs, fucks around, and moonlights as a drag queen in a grungy queer bar. What happens, though, when Keith decides he no longer wants to play by his conservative sister's rules?
Hunter, a trained actor, brings real pathos and intensity to this Lynchian scenario, as well as confronting humour and some truly delightful and memorable scenes. Not a show for the easily offended, but defintely one to see if you're at all interested in catching a remarkable performer in a complex and well-rounded production. Three and a half knowing laughs out of five. (Town Hall til April 29)
Next was Adam Rozenbachs in Wrong Way, Keeping Going, whose show is aptly named. While a charismatic performer with some genuininely funny material, this was Rozenbachs' debut solo performance at the festival, and quite frankly, he doesn't seem ready. His material was too patchy and sporadic, lacking a connecting narrative or means of smoothly seguing from topic to topic, and also was too blokey for my tastes, bordering on outrightly offensive in places (such as joking that Indosnesian customs officers must have been surprised to discover that Bali Nine member Renae Lawrence had a vagina when they strip-searched her; - congratulations, Adam, you managed to be crass, misogynistic, borderline homophobic and just plain wrong simultaneously). Given that I was sitting near the front, I get the feeling my body language conveyed my disapproval, because he pretty much stopped making eye contact with me from that point on. Two occasional chuckles out of five. (Portland Hotel until April 29)
I ended my weekend by catching up with Josh and heading off to see UK performer Daniel Kitson in It's the Fireworks Talking at the Athenaeum Theatre. You won't be surprised to know that this was a great show - by turns surreal, whimsical, delightful, hilarious and touching. In a rambling, wide-ranging show that embraced childhood memories, staying up all night, friendships, relationships with parents, nostalgia, death-bed memories and much more, Kitson kept the majority of the audience in the palm of his indeed. Not everyone though - when two people walked out having complained that they hadn't laughed once, he seemed to thrive on the challenge, lifting the intensity of his performance up another notch despite his jetlag.The show ran for two hours - half an hour over its alloted time - and save for the first 15-20 minutes when Kitson seemed to be underwhelmed by his own material, this show was an utter delight. Four wiping the tears from your eyes laughs out of five. (Athenaeum til April 29)
Then Monday I had to go to work 'cause I have a newspaper to put out. Bah humbug.
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