Presented by James Ashby Enterprises
@ The Ed Castle Hotel
THURSDAY March 8 (until March 10)
When I was a child I used to put on plays. Urged along by my parents’ encouragement, I would enlist the help of my younger brother and sister, as well as any other kids in the vicinity, to create some kind of masterpiece. I would have a clear image in my mind of exactly what I wanted to present to my audience. Inevitably, things would go wrong, but the audience remained largely appreciative. Anthony Frith in: How to Cook Anteater and Save the Galaxy for only Seven Dollars a Day reminded me very strongly of these early productions.
How to Cook Anteater is not up to the calibre of other shows I’ve seen so far at the Fringe. Kitchen noises are evident, there is confusion about the set-up, and the occasional awkward pause that seems to indicate a forgotten movement or word. That said, none of these things take away from the fact that there’s actually some good material under all the nerves and errors. In fact, many of the ‘faults’ of the show make it more entertaining.
Robert Kuhne and Axel Carrington kick off proceedings playing rough, blues-style music , one of them dressed as a scientist and the other in a really cheap-looking Santa suit. I’ve seen these guys play once before in their band Joe Head Joe and remember a lot of enthusiastic lyrics about meat. They bring some of their animal-product-related goodness to the small Ed Castle stage in How to Cook Anteater, but they spend more time playing intros to segments and acting in various skits.
The structure of the show is fairly straightforward: there are several sketches related to different topics. Science, bus stops, confessions and Westerns are the areas covered. Anthony Frith, Robert Kuhne and Alex Streeter (dressed for the entire show in a tiger suit) join Joe Head Joe in these sketches with various combinations of the five appearing at different times. The sketches are unpredictable and have an appealing, almost child-like silliness. The group are at their best when they’re making the least sense – a tiger tackling someone, bad lip syncing to pre-recorded tracks and sketches that last for two lines. These moments are enough to carry the audience through the rougher moments of the show.
There is never a moment in the show that makes you cringe or feel sorry for the actors but there are jokes that fall flat, lines that falter in the middle and some long moments between sketches where everyone seems to be figuring out what comes next. But this is to be expected. While several of the guys involved in both the writing and the performance of How to Cook Anteater have been on stage before it’s mostly been in a musical capacity. They haven’t done anything like this before. This combined with first show jitters, inter-state actors, last minute re-writes and the discovery part way through the show that they were running over time undoubtedly led to some of the hiccups experienced. The fact that all of the cast members are aware of this is comforting and I did my best to encourage them. The moments that worked were genuinely funny and the others showed promise: with a little refinement they could have something hilarious in time for next year’s Fringe.
They also might want to consider changing venues next time. The back room of the Ed Castle is set up awkwardly: two rows of chairs at the front of the stage are framed by small tables further back. But it’s the open door to the kitchen that proves most distracting, the bright light issuing from within as well as the sounds of pots clanging. The upside is the insight into the lives of the people within: “and then she was all like” said by one guy and followed by a terrible impersonation of a female voice remained a highlight.
How to Cook Anteater needs a little refining, overall. The roughness and anti-humour is part of the appeal, but some polish, confidence and weeding could leave these guys with something promising.
