Camille O'Sullivan - Feel

Although the light reflecting off a mirrored fascinator half-obscuring her face dances across the walls and ceiling during the number, the singer’s presence flits and soars throughout the venue during the whole of this powerful and immensely enjoyable performance.

Like a bumper version of her much-loved and acclaimed Fringe shows, tonight’s show – part of her UK ‘Feel’ tour – lasts over two hours. This allows Camille to air tracks from her new LP Changeling; as well as a host of past favourites from previous shows: an opportunity she seems to relish as much as the audience.

We therefore get the raw unaccompanied power of Amsterdam and the glittering glamour of In These Shoes; sharing Camille’s songbook with the pounding bitterness of Hurt and the fatalistic romanticism of Brompton Oratory.

Camille makes the cover versions very much her own, wringing the emotion from each song: whether lust and passion; or – more usually – heartbreaking sorrow. Yet, even though the songs edge towards the dark edge of the spectrum, her stage presence and between-song interaction with the crowd avoid the risk of things getting oppressive.

It’s testament to the talent of Camille and her trio of musicians that the show contains no filler; nor does it lag for a moment, with a well-balanced and varied set holding attention throughout. Musically, her band demonstrate a range and versatility to equal the singer’s own: able to drop things down to a barely-audible beat, then ramp things up to a more raucous rhythm with ease.

As the place where she first began to taste her deserved success, Edinburgh holds a special place in Camille’s heart. On the basis of the standing ovation she receives after tonight’s extended encore, that love – like the light from the mirrors during True Love Waits – is reflected straight back at her.

Caught amidst the conflicts of the 1980s Cold War and his own personal relationships, dreamer Craig (Matt Robertson) has a vision: to build a monument of modern-day megaliths to rival Stonehenge on a patch of disused land near Dundee.

Used to his schemes and deals, long-suffering fiancee Kim (LaVerne Hawthorne) is at first sceptical. Then, as Craig’s plan looks set to turn from dreams into reality, she too is caught up in his excitement: until the things he has to do to convince the politicians, bureaucrats and landowners to endorse his plan begin to threaten their relationship.

Standing Stanes is the latest production from Leith-based theatre company Siege Perilous, and the first to be staged in their new home at Malmaison. Director Andy Corelli takes Robert Ballantine’s never-performed absurdist romp and has a great deal of fun with it, using a sparse set and an intimate venue to recreate all the booms and busts of the 80s, to a cleverly woven scene-specific soundtrack.

Thus we see Derek Banner’s deranged government boffin arranging the set to the sounds of Thomas Dolby’s She Blinded Me With Science; and Robertson, Banner and fourth cast member Mark Kydd dancing a perfectly-choreographed punchup to the strains of Cameo’s Word Up.

The cast appear to be having an equal amount of fun with the piece: Kydd and Banner in particular as they slip on a variety of metaphorical masks in a number of comic supporting roles. Robertson is a likable lead, and portrays Craig’s impossible-to-dampen enthusiasm with aplomb. Hawthorne is excellent in both of her main roles: as Kim, a surprisingly well-rounded character amidst the rest of Standing Stanes’ caricatures; and as the hippy femme fatale Penelope, who slinkily makes Craig a fateful offer he can’t refuse.

As the piece gathers an increasingly absurd momentum, revolving around the plot device of an anti-Communist sterilising ray, Corelli’s direction (aided by technical assistance from Kirstin Rodger, Dave Moffat and Caitlin McBride) comes into its own. Somehow, he manages to pull off scenes which flit from the dark corridors of Whitehall power to open-air rock concerts without causing confusion; and instead of lagging, the piece romps along at a satisfying pace throughout its 75-minute length.

Though it may not have the permanence of the monument of its title, Standing Stones is an effortlessly enjoyable and playful piece that consistently entertains. And, despite being set in unemployment-ridden Britain in the 80s, it has little in the way of political message or heavy-handed satire. Instead, its central themes are more the stuff of fairytales: how a hero’s determination will always succeed; and, of course, how love can conquer all.

Standing Stanes runs until 8 May at Malmaison, Leith at 8pm (with a 4pm performance on 5 May). Tickets are available online here, or can be purchased at the venue.

The plotting and scheming of 18th century Spanish aristocracy are willingly dragged through the ages and into the present-day boardrooms of the Scottish financial sector in this sparkling and witty adaptation of Beaumarchais’ original by DC Jackson, directed by the Lyceum’s Mark Thomson.

Figaro (Mark Prendergast) and his bride-to-be Suzanne (Nicola Roy) are poised to clinch two major deals: a merger with a major financial institution run by Stuart Bowman’s predatory Chief and Briony McRoberts world-weary Chair; and their impending marriage, to be conducted as a civil ceremony on the office’s 7th floor after the board meeting.

Needless to say, the course of true love (and back-stabbing business deals) doesn’t run smooth: with both Figaro and Suzanne being the subject of unwanted attentions that threaten to scupper their futures. As the farcical elements of the production play out, an agenda of misunderstandings, schemes and subterfuge is followed, before any other business has an opportunity to unfold.

The Marriage of Figaro is an enjoyable and bawdy romp, perfectly set amidst the power and sex struggles of the corporate machine, well-realised by Alex Lowde’s satirically soulless sets. Prendergast is an effective lynchpin as the orphan who has pulled himself up by his braces, displaying strong comic timing – and an impressive singing voice during the nods to the operatic version of the original which take place during the scene changes.

Stuart Bowman excels as the lascivious leader, creating a topical cartoon portrait of a bete noire banker – his pelvis-thrusting efforts to clinch his own deal with Suzanne are hilarious to watch, and his lines drip heaviest with Jackson’s satirical jibes. Molly Innes as sex-starved PA Margery is also hugely enjoyable, with her hemline rising in ratio to her increasing but unreflected desire for Figaro as she chases him around the boardroom table. Jamie Quinn’s ‘hormonal deposit’ Pavlo also raises laughter as the office boy unable to keep his desires in check.

An enjoyable brew of satire, farce and sex comedy, The Marriage of Figaro is a comic highlight of the Lyceum’s 11/12 season: gleefully picking up the respectable boulder of the corporate world and taking mischievous delight in exposing the wriggling, lust-driven creatures scuttling underneath.

The Marriage of Figaro runs until 14 April. Ticket information is available on the Lyceum website.

Even the gigantic figure of Lennie (Steve Jackson) is dwarfed by the huge wooden sets of John Dove’s production of John Steinbeck’s Of Mice And Men. The ramshackle bunk beds and stable walls soar with the mood of post-depression America, where men eke out whatever living they can, protecting both their earnings and their hopes by remaining insular and alone.

Lennie and George (William Ash) are the exception. They travel together, with George taking on a parental role for his simple-minded companion. With dreams of owning their own farm where they can live off the ‘fat of the land’, their fates are set when they take on jobs as ranch hands. Here, Lennie’s love for ‘soft things’ leads the pair down a different road: one where dreams and relationships are under constant and inevitable threat.

The leads are strong: Jackson succeeds in depicting Lennie without caricature, evoking sympathy for the lumbering soul who wishes only for happiness but doesn’t know his own strength. Ash’s portrayal as the caring idealist George is a little less well-defined, although their scenes together as inseparable companions convince.

Peter Kelly shows the best characterisation as the aged one-handed Candy; Liam Brennan’s Slim is the stoical, strong & measured cowboy-type, who also proves to be the most sympathetic. Melody Grove is the only female cast member: her role as Curley’s wife starts as one treated with contempt; by her character’s end, Grove succeeds in evoking pity for this caged bird with dashed dreams.

With its theme of hopes & dreams endangered by gripping onto them too tightly, Of Mice and Men is a classic examination of the human condition. Dove’s production under Colin Richmond’s towering set is a traditional and at times powerful version of the Steinbeck original, but its intimacy and subtlety is at times overshadowed by the expanse of the staging and direction.

Of Mice And Men runs until 17 March at The Royal Lyceum Theatre. More details are on the Lyceum website.

Acoustic #1 by Titus Pullo

The name of the EP’s a bit of a giveaway: Titus Pullo present four gently romantic acoustic numbers, with Robson’s distinctive sugar-coated sandpaper vocals giving them the feel of ripped up love letters pieced back together with tape.

Live By The Sword is a standout, with acoustic guitar, piano and strings embracing each other warmly in an emotional and affecting number. “You don’t have to make it alone,” sings Robson, and the song’s melancholic theme of undying devotion packs quite a punch: and ably demonstrates Robson’s considerable songwriting skills.

Pieces of Me follows a similar musical path, yet this time one walked by a spurned lover. And by the time the spine-tingling chorus has played for a third time, the song has lodged inside somewhere between your heart and the pit of your stomach.

Whilst it’s difficult to imagine the first two songs delivered other than acoustically, the more upbeat So Wonderful sounds as though it could stand its ground fully amped rather than unplugged; though the strums and picks of the acoustic treatment and the female backing harmonies give it a shine which still appeals.

In another example of appropriate naming, the EP closes with The End, a slow burner which adds in the strings, keys and harmonies as it progresses, with Richard Beeby and Garry Boyle’s understated production & mixing helping it build into a musical swell capable of sweeping you away.

Titus Pullo make music which will appeal to the romantic in anyone. Lush strings, gently lapping guitar and vocals which sound as though they’ve been up all night: these are excellently-penned star-crossed tunes which only the hardest of hearts will be unmoved by.

Acoustic #1 is available for free download now.

Smoothiesforme - New Beginnings

Smoothiesforme is a talented 17 year-old singer songwriter from Edinburgh. In 2010, she made it through to the finals of The Forth One To Watch Awards, and her self-penned and produced songs have gone on to win her acclaim and fans alike.

New Beginnings is a free-to-download EP, serving as a taster for her full Road To Happiness album – but also as an appetising product in its own right.

Smoothiesforme’s vocals have a vulnerable delicacy to them; a breathiness and tremulous quality which is both distinctive and mature. This is ably demonstrated on EP opener Forbidden, a deep and enveloping production spun with plucked arpeggio guitar wrapped warmly in sweeping strings, creating a subtle track which swells and ebbs like the ocean on a moonlit night.

“There is a road to happiness, we just haven’t found it yet,” she sings, summing up the melancholic lyrical themes on offer on New Beginnings: tales of love lost all too quickly, yet with a sense of optimism and self-belief driving them forward.

Will This Ever End? Is poppier and more upbeat, featuring a keyboard refrain which shoots through the track, giving it an energy and mood completely different to Forbidden. Smoothiesforme’s vocal delivery is the same however: understated and fragile, yet with an undertone of strength which results in a unique and compelling whole. An ambient remix of the song is also included, giving the original much more space to move, like a dancer alone in an empty ballroom just after midnight.

Like A Fool is perhaps the standout track on offer here: with its haunting guitar and moody, claustrophobic production, it begins in atmospheric style before slipping into a shuffling rhythm as it builds in intensity like a slow-burning flame. By the end, only the ashes of Like A Fool are left, but its powerful imprint remains, seared into your memory.

Into His Arms wears its beautiful melancholic heart on its sleeve, the guitar and strings underscoring a mesmerising song of broken-hearted loss and betrayal.

“You are nothing without me,” she sings on the final song Wreckage, which sums up this talented singer’s attitude perfectly: a new, independent voice which will make you sit up and take notice with its confidence and strength as much as for its youth.

Smoothiesforme is most definitely One To Watch: but above all, one to listen to and follow as she journeys from these new beginnings into a future which looks set to be bright for her indeed.

You can keep up with Smoothiesforme’s news and latest songs on her Facebook page and YouTube channel. Road To Happiness is available to download now.

Something’s slightly askew in the Barony this evening. Instead of daily menus, the blackboards are chalked with quotations by Charles Bukowski; instead of the usual fare behind the bar, the drinks on offer tonight include Screw Lager and Man In A Boat beer. Appropriately, it’s like viewing the traditional bar through a drunken, reality-altering haze.

The space is dressed to provide the stage for Grid Iron‘s reprise of their 2009 Fringe hit, Barflies. Directed by Ben Harrison and based on the writings of Bukowski, it staggers a path through the semi-autobiographical tales of Henry (Keith Fleming) and the three loves of his life: women (played by Charlene Boyd), writing and drinking.

The drunken artist archetype is a little passé these days: the life of the tortured barfly more likely to evoke pity than the awe it perhaps used to command. Barflies is aware of this, neither romanticising nor glamourising things; not shying away from the messy chaos of the alcoholic’s life: broken glass, fumbling sexual encounters, unsightly stains and all.

Fleming and Boyd are compelling as Henry and the series of women he collides with. The heightened performances required to portray the drunk at first verge a little close to histrionics: but things soon find their own pace and flow, ending up believable. David Paul Jones (last seen as the murderous conservatoire headmaster of What Remains) plays barman Silent Dave, and also provides musical accompaniment, mixing hymns to drink from the likes of Cave and Burns into the piece.

Grid Iron choose to transport Henry and his muses from LA to Scotland, with some regional vernacular and a few local references in the script. As the alleyways of Scotland are just as soaked as the LA backstreets, this gives the piece a subtle taste of social commentary amongst the slaps and spills of the drunken drama which plays out in front of, behind and on top of the bar.

Barflies comes with no salvation and no solution. By the time Henry and his latest companion stumble from the Barony in another hopeless cycle of self-destruction, Grid Iron’s deliriously raw and excellently-staged production hasn’t left us with any great message or lesson: but neither – thankfully – has it preached.

Barflies runs at The Barony in Broughton Street until 9 Feb, then again from 27 Feb – 1 March. Details are on the Traverse website.

“If you can’t go to Africa, Africa comes to you.”

So says Samba Sene, speaking between numbers during his support slot at the Voodoo Rooms. And he’s right.

Tonight we’re treated to the rhythms, emotion and joy of some top quality world music in Edinburgh, courtesy of Senegalese Samba and main act Vieux Farka Touré from Mali.

More normally fronting his full band Diwan, tonight Samba Sene sits on the stage with an acoustic guitar, accompanied by a single musician on an African mandolin. Together, they perform a set of low-key, personal numbers, dealing with Samba’s loves & losses. Samba’s playing and singing is emotive and subtle, as his rich voice effortlessly fills the Ballroom to an appreciative audience.

Proving he’s as comfortable in an intimate and personal setting as he is when leading Diwan through their gloriously upbeat numbers, Samba is a pleasure to watch and listen to, particularly when he wins over the crowd with his song devoted to his now hometown of Edinburgh.

Vieux Farka Touré is recognised as one of the finest guitarists on the world music scene today, and on the strength of tonight’s performance it’s easy to see why. Backed by a bassist and percussionist, his songs are long, hypnotic affairs, weaving their rhythms between the dancing feet of the packed crowd.

The length of the numbers allows Vieux’s musicianship to shine: whether adeptly blurring his fingers in a series of impressive solos; or bouncing his playing off his fellow band members, trading rhythmical snippets of music as if passing a ball between them.

Throughout, Vieux’s obvious passion for the music beams out, as his infectious and joyful stage presence spreads waves of warmth around the room.

Back outside in the cold air of a February evening in Edinburgh, Samba and Vieux have indeed brought a little piece of Africa to us: more than enough to keep us warm all the way home.

Samba Sene and Vieux Farka Touré played at The Voodoo Rooms, Tue 7th Feb

Newhaven cafe

A warm welcome and excellent food at The Haven cafe

There’s nothing more than we like than trying out a new place for food and at lunchtime today, we visited the recently opened cafe, The Haven at Anchorfield (directly opposite the Chancelot Mill).

A warm welcome ensued as we tucked ourselves beside a radiator and started reading the papers and glossy magazines on offer for customers.

The menu has all the usual breakfast suspects with rolls starting at £1.80 (sit-in price) and £2.10 for a doubler. A bowl of porridge will set you back £1.90 and scrambled eggs on toast £2.40.

There are freshly made soups and sandwiches up for grabs, but we couldn’t see past the all-day full Scottish breakfast with tea (or coffee) included, for a bargain price of £5.95.

A steaming large mug of tea was served to the table followed by the wonderful sight of  bacon, black-pudding, sausage, haggis, free-range egg, mushrooms, beans, tattie scone and toast on a plate. We opted out of the tomato which is normally included and was impressed with both the quality and quantity that had been served.

Impressive full-Scottish breakfast

Other diners were tucking into bowls of soup and half a sandwich (£4.20 for the combo) and we also eyed up the blueberry pancakes (special of the day). All the food served is available in smaller portions for children and highchairs are available making this a family friendly place.

Despite eating more calories than we care to think about, we of course managed a slice of home-made cake. There’s lots to choose from including classics such as empire biscuits, chocolate cake and scones, but we plumped for a piece of Victoria sponge (£2.50).

We were served a door-stop sized wedge of the light and fluffy sponge which caused the neighbouring tables to comment in envy and ask if it would be finished. Of course the answer was yes.

Other warming drinks are available such as the usual coffees (£1.70 for an americano and £1.80 for a latte) and hot chocolate (£2.20) and fruit shoots for little ones (70p).

By the end of our visit (1pm ish) the majority of tables were full with lunchtime workers and pensioners as well as the local school kids coming in for a takeaway lunch.

We really can’t fault any aspect of this cafe. The prices are very reasonable, the surroundings comfortable and the food excellent.

Recommended from us.

Impressive Victoria sponge

Information

The Haven Cafe - 9 Anchorfield, Edinburgh.

Free wi fi.

Opening hours – Monday to Friday 0730 – 1700 hrs and Saturday and Sunday 0900 – 1700 hrs

The Haven are on facebook and on twitter @thehavencafe

Suitable for disabled? Yes the door and cafe is on ground level, but the bathrooms are located up a set of four steps.

The Haven features on our Edinburgh Cake Trail.

This picture courtesy of The Haven

Inside the cafe

Edinburgh-based grunge rockers Art of Privilege unleash four minutes of piledriving rock with new single The Crawler, a no-nonsense, no-apologies blast along the metal motorway at a million times over the speed limit.

The single has a raw and relentless feel which suits its theme of nights in sleazy bars with easy women. Drums and bass keep the engine running behind some blistering and accomplished guitar licks which rev things up nicely between choruses which kick like double JDs on the rocks.

The Crawler shows Art of Privilege are a band who’ve studied hard at the School of Rock – but manage to make things sound effortless as they speed past with a track which makes you want to hit repeat as soon as it’s over.

The Crawler is out now on iTunes

Creation & Play gives the chance for three leading Scottish puppeteers to be paired with a trio of theatre directors: and given free reign to create whatever form of visual theatre they wished. With the emphasis very much on the ‘play’ aspect, the pieces give an opportunity for their creators to experiment in a low-risk environment, allowing them to flex their creative muscles in a sandbox environment – quite literally in the case of one of the performances.

Pac A Mac by Shona Reppe and the Lyceum’s Mark Thomson is the most avant-garde of the slices of playfulness on offer, with a surreal mood-piece featuring Reppe as a bewildered balloon modeller haunted by a disembodied voice in a cardboard box. Like a lost scene from Eraserhead, Reppe danced amidst the balloon animals, trying in vain to ignore the sense of foreboding and claustrophobia which closes in around her.

A visually interesting piece with Reppe’s performance emphasising the sense of the absurd, the theme is a little too sleight to make it anything other than a diverting performance as fragile as one of the balloon figures she pops beneath her shoes.

Easter Island: It’s A Rapanui by Ailie Cohen and Communicado Artistic Director Gerry Mulgrew is at the other extreme of the spectrum, being a humourous spoof scientific presentation about the mysteries of the giant stone heads on the tiny island. Cohen and fellow Puppet State Theatre Company collaborator Rick Conte have fun mugging their way through proceedings, aided and abetted by some effective shadow and small-figure puppetry.

It’s a likeable and light-hearted sketch: though whether it develops into something larger and more long-lasting remains to be seen.

A showing of Anna Ginsburg’s stop-motion animation video to Bombay Bicycle Club’s How Can You Swallow So Much Sleep? follows: a delightful and appropriately dream-like film with echoes of Le Petit Prince, well suited to the band’s indie folk style.

Grit by Tortoise In A Nutshell and Citizen Theatre’s Dominic Hill is the most traditional of the performances this evening, as the puppeteers bring a small, vulnerable male figure to life on a sand-strewn table.

His short journey is a rite of passage from innocent wonder to the misplaced bravado and futility of conflict, and Tortoise’s puppeteers succeed in portraying the tale with pathos and emotion, particularly in the poignant opening and closing scenes which frame the piece.

Creation & Play is an encapsulation of everything the manipulate Festival sets out to achieve: bold experimentation in an environment where freedom of expression can flourish. And whilst the pieces on show tonight are variable, they are united by those common goals, showing what creativity and playfulness can produce when given space to breathe.

Creation & Play – part of manipulate’s Snapshots – played at The Traverse Theatre on Feb 3 2012

England’s Invisible Thread give us a glimpse into a playful and at times disturbing world with Liz Walker’s Plucked…A True Fairy Tale, part of the manipulate Visual Theatre Festival at the Traverse.

Taking inspiration from myth and legend – most notably the maiden, mother, crone archetype – two almost life-size puppets interact in an abstract and expressive style, operated by three onstage puppeteers.

In the first section, male and female energies attract and intertwine, resulting in a trio of surreal births which emphasise themes of love and loss. With their spindly limbs and billowing white skirts, the puppets evoke a sense of otherworldiness and mystery: part childlike, part alien as they interact with the sparse set of wooden ladders and planks – and with each other.

Humour is present, mostly due to the surreal nature of the pair’s coupling and the subsequent offspring: from toy trains to television sets, each of which literally fly the parental nest. This gives rise to the thematic thread of the second half, where the lone female character is transformed into a terrible crow-like figure after undergoing a journey of self, seeing her reign from a mechanical tower from which she dispenses swift and terrifying vengeance on those who come to court.

Live ink painting projection and a music-box style soundtrack add to the dreamlike mood of the piece; and the sensory experience of Plucked as a whole overcomes the shortcomings in its often obtuse narrative.

Unique and challenging at times, Plucked is also perhaps a little over long – not helped by a necessary interval where the audience are asked to leave the auditorium to allow a scene change between acts.

As the images seep in and settle though, the haunting world of Plucked…A True Fairy Tale lingers in the mind like the echoes of a barely-remembered dream.

Plucked was performed as part of the manipulate Visual Theatre Festival at the Traverse Theatre on Jan 31.

Inspired by two real-life Victorian spiritualist performers, The Infamous Brothers Davenport opens a box filled with magic and memory in this world premiere at the Lyceum, co-produced with Glasgow’s Vox Motus.

Written by Candice Edmunds, Jamie Harrison and Peter Arnott, and directed by Harrison and Edmunds, The Infamous Brothers Davenport is a showy and technically-complex production, but one which hides layers of emotion in its plot’s many hidden compartments.

Before the lights dim, Lady Noyes-Woodhull (Anita Vetesse) greets the ‘invited guests’ at tonight’s demonstration, inviting some onstage to examine the spiritualist apparatus for signs of trickery or subterfuge before the main event.

Ira and Willie Davenport (Scott Fletcher and Ryan Fletcher) are two young American brothers who, with the assistance of manager Mr Fay (Gavin Mitchell), turn the experiences of their past into a stage phenomenon: claiming to present the grief-stricken and the curious with evidence of life beyond the grave.

The piece opens with a humourous flourish, with Mitchell relishing the role of showman as he introduces the mysterious brothers. Stagecraft and magic techniques are used – with the help of a few willing audience members – to provide the ‘evidence’, sought no more strongly than by Lady Noyes-Woodhull herself, whose husband has been missing in Africa for years.

Soon, the magic disperses and the brothers’ ‘spirit box’ transforms into a stage within a stage, where Ira and Willie’s background is played out. Vetesse and Mitchell take on the roles of Mama and Papa, and we learn that the brothers’ most precious secrets are not the ones they use to create the effects in their act.

The Infamous Brothers Davenport is visibly the sum of its parts, and at times not all of them connect. The stage show reenactment is technically well-done and played in pastiche style, though this at times this jars with the human tragedy played out behind the box’s doors. In the second half, things come together with a little more cohesion, as the piece’s themes of truth and deception reach a satisfying climax.

Performances are excellent throughout, particularly from Scott Fletcher, who plays Willie with an innocent and otherworldly demeanour. Mitchell has the most fun, alternating between the exuberant showmanship of Mr Fay and the Bill The Butcher-style domineering of Papa Davenport.

Mention must also go to Harrison’s design and David Graham’s technical management: this is a production which relies heavily on more-than-usual amounts of stage magic to suspend the audience’s disbelief, and does so with flair.

Touring after this premiere, The Infamous Brothers Davenport is an ambitious production which mostly hits the magical mark it sets itself. And with its tale of hidden doors and hidden secrets, it shows that voices from beyond the grave echo into our lives whether you believe in spiritualism or not.

The Infamous Brothers Davenport runs at the Lyceum until 11 Feb. More details are on the Lyceum website.

Of Ash & Water - Emissary

Close your eyes whilst listening to Emissary‘s debut EP and their music evokes the airbrushed landscapes of 70s fantasy artist Roger Dean. And, with their complex and accomplished songs which conjure up the spirits of Rush and Wolfmother, the band’s sweeping and epic sound is well-placed to inhabit them.

A four-piece post-metal band formed from the ashes of Visperas, Aos Si and other groups on the Edinburgh rock scene, Emissary emerge newly-forged with guitars slung over their shoulders like weapons, chiselled jaws jutting towards the horizon and their eyes fixed on the setting twin moons of Asengard (or something).

Standing Stone opens things in suitably gargantuan fashion, with explosive guitar riffs which shake the earth from its orbit. ‘You struck the fear of god into me,” sings vocalist Luke, as the music crashes and swirls around him like a vortex.

Indeed, Emissary understand the power of an almighty riff, and all four tracks on offer here bristle with hooks and refrains like they’re preparing for some full-on guitar-based assault.

It Was Always You is perhaps the best example of the Emissary sound. The first half is a delicate, baroque composition; which then lets its hair down and hurtles towards a tumultuous and fiery conclusion. The song has a metal-melting ferocity of the kind that the Gods of Rock intended when they first bestowed electric guitars upon the world.

If you’re a fan of sweeping and epic rock but are struggling to find anyone on the local scene to satisfy your urges, Emissary have arrived after an epic journey at the gates of Edinburgh with an impressively writ-large missive of hope.

And the Gods of Rock are pleased.

Stuart Paterson’s Christmas shows at the Lyceum make only the briefest of nods to pantomime, instead choosing to focus on capturing all the magic of fairytale on stage. Neil Murray’s direction of Beauty & The Beast is no exception, providing a captivating two hours of charming festive entertainment with its timeless tale of love’s ability to conquer all.

Beauty (Ruth Milne) lives a Cinderella-like existence with her impoverished father (Lewis Howden) and her wicked sisters Hazel and Hannah (Karen Traynor and Nicola Roy) with only her new friend Martin (Andrew Rothney) to confide in. When her father ends up at the mercy of the terrifying Beast, selfless Beauty takes his place as the monster’s prisoner. Meanwhile, evil witch Crackjaw (Angela Clerkin) watches as her evil plans fall into place…

Milne puts in an appealing performance as Beauty, quickly becoming everyone in the audience’s favourite big sister. Rothney is similarly likeable as the brave Martin; and the relationship between the two leads is strong enough to carry the tale. Howden brings world-weary gravitas to his role, and the scenes between father and his favourite daughter are touching rather than saccharine.

As is often the case, the baddies have all the best roles…Clerkin plays child-hating Crackjaw with relish, appearing to have stepped straight off the set of a Tim Burton movie with her wild hair and billowing black dress. Traynor and Roy probably have the most fun however, and their chavtastic performances as the vain and scheming sisters provide Beauty & The Beast‘s best comedy moments.

Mark McDonnell as kind-hearted goblin Dunt is also there for comic relief, though he seems to have been studying Andy Gray’s camp panto performance style a little too closely at times. And Billy the Dog will appeal to younger audience members, providing plenty of faithful companion and ‘aww’ moments. Murray’s illustrative set design gives the production a suitably storybook feel, and costumes range from the flamboyant fun of the sisters’ ‘big city’ outfits to the potentially child-scaring towering black bull-headed beast.

There are other places you can go in Edinburgh to watch men dressed as women, hear jokes about the trams and catch innuendos flying over the heads of children in the audience. With Beauty & The Beast however, you can go and be treated to a big-hearted and spellbinding piece of charming theatre which will appeal to the child within, no matter how old you are.

Beauty & The Beast runs until 31 December. Dates / times vary – details are on the Lyceum website.

In Jo Clifford’s poignant yet playful imagining, Adam Smith (Neil McKinven) and David Hume (Gerry Mulgrew) are blessed with an enlightening opportunity to see how their philosophies have borne fruit, as they wake up resurrected in the 21st century.

Guided by modern-day Eve (Joanna Tope), their eyes are opened to the result of free thought and free markets: and how not everything in this utopian Garden of Eden is as rosy as they first think.

Clifford’s script is lyrical and wordy, managing to put convincing words in the mouths of these fathers of the Enlightenment: even when Smith uses his second chance at life as an excuse to indulge in his previously-suppressed hedonistic excesses.

Hume remains more philosophical, his eyes slowly opening to the reality of progress. Throughout, they are aware of their situation: and of the ‘sleek’ and ‘clean’ audience watching their metaphysical adventures in the afterlife.

Ben Harrison’s direction keeps things tight on a minimal set by Ali Maclaurin, allowing Clifford’s wordplay and premise to take centre stage. Devotees of Smith and Hume will find much to enjoy in her script; those less familiar with their work will still be led forward by Eve’s guiding hand.

The trio on stage give enjoyable and convincing performances, McKinven’s joy at being able to let off a lifetime of steam being particularly amusing to watch. Tope copes well with revealing truths to her companions and the audience alike, her expository role never feeling forced.

An unashamedly intellectual alternative to the more traditional seasonal fare currently on offer on Edinburgh’s stages, the play’s premise – that knowledge burns as brightly as any star – is just as uplifting.

The Tree of Knowledge runs until 24 December. More details are on the Traverse website.

In Simon Jackson’s enjoyably fast-paced “noir thriller” directed by Andy Corelli, tabloid photographer Ian Thompson finds himself the focus of undesired attention after witnessing an Egyptian diplomat being thrown from a fifth-floor window. As he recounts the series of events to a pair of police interrogators, we learn that whilst the camera never lies, the photographer may be being more creative with the truth.

The first performance in the new space at Ocean Terminal, Turning to the Camera is a technically ambitious production, featuring video projection sequences helping to put the action in context. On the whole, this works well – and is cleverly-deployed in places, such as when two characters stoop down, Gulliver-like, to peer into the windows of a projected bungalow. The sequences where the streets of Edinburgh are used to indicate the characters are car-bound are perhaps less effective, bringing to mind the effects of early Hollywood movies: but in general the filmed sequences add to the piece rather than detract from it.

Ian Sexon is superb as the paparazzo, exuding just the right amount of sleaze and questionable morals without verging on caricature. Sexon brings a manic physicality to the role – which is perhaps just as well, as his character spends around half the play’s 65 minute length clad only in his boxer shorts.

The other three actors play multiple roles, as characters in Thompson’s tale enter and exit. Adam Tomkins has a similar commanding presence to Liam Brennan and shows his versatility with roles as diverse as a threatening gunman and an eccentric professor. A slightly-underused Adrienne Zitt has less to do, but she brings an effortless touch of female strength to her walk-on parts, helping to counter Thompson’s male bravado.

Lewis Hart breathes life into the piece’s most intriguing character: a Welsh Muslim extremist. Again steering clear of caricature, Hart injects Bilaal with an intelligence and vulnerability which transforms him into one of the play’s most sympathetic – and morally true – characters.

The ink on Jackson’s script is still wet (there are references to the late Ken Russell; and to the November 30 strikes); it is also tightly-plotted with just the right number of twists and turns to stop it being confusing. Some political points are skirted over a little too briefly, and there is a slightly jarring mini-lecture on the history of defenestration, but on the whole the piece gels together well. And as Jackson also shot the film sequences and composed the noirish jazz-based soundtrack, it is certainly an impressive showcase for his talents.

Turning to the Camera proves to be sharply-focused and well-developed thriller with enough comic asides and interesting characters to stop it being heavy-handed. And as a snapshot of what Siege Perilous are capable of, it comes highly recommended.

Turning to the Camera runs until 3 Dec at Ocean Terminal. More details are available on the play’s Facebook page.

The latest single from Edinburgh-based alt-country noir rock band Augustalia is a dark little ditty which wouldn’t sound out of place on David Lynch’s car stereo as he goes cruising down Mulholland Drive at 3 in the morning.

“You’re not afraid of me now but you should be” sings Hannah O’Reilly, her sweet-sounding vocals edged with razor-sharp menace as she tells the tale of bloodletting and stilettos (daggers or heels, possibly both). This is a song which wants to wake you up in the middle of the night, whisper nightmares in your ear, then slip you something to make you fall back asleep again.

Musically, things start off with gentle strummed guitar punctuated by a smattering of drums sounding like thunder in the desert. Then, Stiletto begins to creep up on you: every time you turn round, it’s a little bit closer, until the production reaches its murderous crescendo, with guitar, bass, drums and Hannah’s harmonies all competing for the privilege of delivering the final blow.

Take the lyrical content away and Stiletto is a brooding and atmospheric spinetingler. Add in the tale of vengeance and murder, however, and it turns into a gloriously dark trip into Augustalia’s noirish head – but fortunately a head with its tongue still firmly in its cheek.

Making some of the most distinctive and original music on the Edinburgh scene, you may not be aware of Augustalia now – but you should be.

This isn’t a whodunnit? – more of a why do we do it?

In Paddy Cunneen’s original and gripping Watching The Detective, we are all present at a crime scene presided over by the Detective (a faultless Stuart Bowman). By the end of this hypnotic piece of deconstructed theatre, we’re less silent witnesses than active voyeurs; and our preconceptions of why we enjoy a good crime story have been crept up upon and assaulted.

Bowman prowls round the minimal stage, part Rebus, part CSI Edinburgh. Between cordoning off the Traverse 2 in crime scene tape, he pauses his internal monologue and phone calls to turn his investigative lights upon the audience.

“Who do you think I am?” he asks. It’s a good question.

Is he an actor playing a part; the personification of our fascination with ‘abjection’; or something else entirely? It’s a fascinating premise, well handled by Cunneen who also directs. And although those expecting a cut-and-dried case may be disappointed, Watching The Detective‘s line of questioning stays with you long afterwards.

The last in this year’s season of Plays, Pies and Pints at The Traverse, don’t be misled by Watching The Detective‘s premise – there’s plenty to see here.

Watching The Detective runs at The Traverse until 12 Nov. More details on the Traverse website.

1-5 November 19:30 (21:15), 2 & 5 Nov. matinees 13:30 (15:15) @ King’s Theatre. More details on the King’s website

Review by Danielle Farrow

Simon Callow has a strong association with Charles Dickens having long played the author, who – himself – gave public readings, bringing his characters to performed life. In Dr Marigold and Mr Chops, Callow presents two different stories directly, through one-man plays in which a manager talks about his employee and friend Mr Chops and one Doctor Marigold speaks about his own life.

Mr Chops is a telling tale, centred upon a performer in a freak show, focusing on dreams, celebrity and exploitation. It is full of rich observation and human feeling, some of which is described directly and some conveyed more subtly through the nuances of Dickens’ writing and Callow’s performance. It is the shorter piece, something of a cameo, with a few sweeping brushstrokes giving background to sharper detail.

Dr Marigold is a travelling salesman, who has a performance aspect to his work which is beautifully physicalised by Callow, and one who has known harsh times as well as better ones. Marigold the man grows along with his tale, creating a rewarding journey for an audience living through his travels with all their pain, fear, shaming mistakes and generous triumphs, and appreciating human relationships and spirit along the way.

Christopher Woods’ set serves both pieces well, creating a somewhat dusky setting. Dark red velvet curtains drape along the back and the material covers a free-standing wall and the floor of an angled raised dais, which is an abandoned stage for Mr Chops and then Dr Marigold’s footboard, where he sells from his cart. A few slatted wood tabs create a couple of ‘walls’, with pictures, frames, posters and general neglected niknaks strewn about. Nick Richings’ lighting uses various states, especially subdued, to fine empathic effect and sound (by Dominic Bilkey) can be suitably harsh for a circus barrel organ while yet supporting and punctuating Callow’s performance.

Simon Callow himself is obviously not just an experienced actor. That experience is clear and welcome in his command of material and delivery, but there is still more to his performance – so much so, that occasional stumbles and the odd plummy vowel inconsistent with his characters’ accents does not detract. The descriptive detail of Dickens is mirrored in the detail of voice, body and manner with which Callow creates his characters, those of his speakers and the others met along the way. Also, the care for humanity that characterises Dickens’ writing is integral to Callow’s performance, bringing rich feeling, warming humour and a sense of understanding and empathy which envelops the audience as well.

Callow is a true performer, able to fill the theatre with his presence and hold complete attention with his delivery, and he moves his audience, attaining a level of truth that makes strong connection possible. The combination of Dickens and Callow is indeed a brilliant one, layered and poignant, drawing tears and laughter, and full of life.