The dancers were an engrossing delight; their performance fluid, one movement cascading into the next. If there were any slip-ups, the audience certainly didn’t notice them. Tobiah Booth-Remmer’s played Vincent with a dedication to character that I never expected could be portrayed in dance. His personified Psyche (Chloe Lanham) was an apt choice and did well to convey the torment of his mind as he tried to keep on track with his work. Their dance was a struggle to find balance, his Psyche a constant distraction from his painting – only when she was under control could he work in peace. Vincent wasn’t alone with his mind in this performance, he and his younger brother Theo (Michael Smith) were corresponding, their letters read aloud for the audience. Theo was a constant encouragement, he even, at times, helped Vincent wrestle with his Psyche.

One of the major goals of Vincent was to showcase the many effects of light, utilising it on stage, on objects, and on the dancers. This was undoubtedly the highlight of the performance. Artists had to paint quickly in order to capture the scenes, so short and swift brush strokes became another characteristic. While the stage contained just a limited number of props (frames, trees, a writing desk and the incomplete Starry Starry Night), they differed and changed before the audience’s eyes. In particular, the painting was ever changing as the light brought different colours into focus.

The music of Perth composer, Sean Tinnion, complimented and drove the performance to new heights. Beginning with something soft, the composition grew increasingly frenzied over time. When he painted, the music was not only frantic, but verged on unsettling.

This is certainly something for fans of the visual arts. Almost giving the impression of being in an art gallery, this show will have you spellbound from start to finish as you wonder how anybody could have orchestrated such a multi-dimensional piece. Not only did this show bring together arresting music, the pleasure of paintings, and awe-inspiring dance to tell the story of Vincent Van Gogh, it brought together these things in a celebration of the wider spectrum of art.

In his opening monologue, Klaus let his voice project through the theatre. With each word powerfully enunciated, he immediately captivated the audience. Thus beginning to unravel the trials of Lucifer and his determination to become God. The show was dark, blasphemous, a little macabre, and inappropriately humorous.

Klaus displayed a real talent for simultaneously fascinating and manipulating his audience, without them being too conscious of the latter. He portrayed a version of Lucifer that was blunt, crude, and subtly cunning – a form that would entertain but quickly transgress into one of enormous rage, ego, and desire-mongering. In doing so, he caused the spectators to reaffirm their original notions of a malicious and almost deranged devil.

His stage held only a few props: a signage board, a pillow, a stool, and red heels. Klaus utilised them all effectively and in a way that heightened the emotion of the scenes. The story jumped backwards through time to show each of Lucifer’s (failed) attempts to denounce God in the eyes of his followers, and tempt them into his evil regime. It was interesting to hear Lucifer’s personal interpretation of well-known biblical tales and how he portrayed the additional religious figures. It made the viewers think about what they had been conditioned to understand about the stories in the bible as Klaus emphasised that most of them were dependent on context.

Although the narrative was relatively straightforward, there was an assumption that it would be told in chronological – rather than non-linear – order . This made the development of events slightly confusing as frequently one scene, set in modern times, would be interrupted with a memory of past events. Similarly, some scenes appeared to be unnecessary, unrelated to the the story, or a little too odd. Mostly, however, the way each scene was designed did contribute to the plot in its own way.

Down Down Lucifer gives a very unique perspective into Lucifer’s perception of his portrayal in past and modern culture, and how he views himself. It is disarming, intelligent, sacrilegious, thoroughly entertaining, and well executed.

The first act is paced slowly but picks up when she starts her tricks. Marina tests her body’s limit with fox traps, mouse traps, a staple gun, and even inserting a drill into her nose, making the crowd wriggle and squirm (yet come back asking for more). Betwixt is less of a display of neat tricks and circus acts and more a piece of performance theatre, as she goes from dancing to popular songs to feeding a doll spaghetti. A word is barely said by the character on stage and on the surface will leave the audience wondering why the character does these things. A lot is left unsaid and the show must be read between the lines and behind the circus acts.

The usual circus acts are present, including bottle-walking and juggling an impressive six balls at once. The lighting of the stage is cleverly used, with spots of different colours for the different acts. It’s especially clever when she uses only a small head-mounted torch to juggle a meat cleaver in otherwise total darkness. Marina’s acts range from the beautiful and delicate to the impressive and dangerous. In one scene, she performs a song on guitar whilst standing barefoot on broken glass – symbolic of how difficult a gesture it is to express one’s love.

The music during scenes is chopped, constant and changing, with voiceovers hinting to the next act. These voiceovers could be interpreted as fragments of her distorted, crazy mind. The voice over about requiring safety goggles when operating a drill is hilarious. Synchronising with the music could have been more finely tuned but it is nothing show-breaking – overall, she is in time and moves with the beat cleanly.

While her award winning performance in 3 Steps Ahead is more entertaining and engaging with the audience, Betwixt is daring to be different. It’s because of Marina’s constant drive to try something new every year that her circus gets better and remains fresh. For local Adelaide talent, Betwixt is a must see.

For the preview show, Dave kept saying “It’ll be a little shit” but the show was funny from start to finish. Despite Dave’s monotonous voice, his show remains humorous by including external sources to make fun of, such as music and videos. He also incorporates the return of segments from old shows such as ‘misheard lyrics’ and new segments like ‘doing what song lyrics tell you to’ with many sexual innuendos throughout. There are many references to the 80s (mainly to videos and songs), which might go over the heads of younger members. The audience for the preview show was cackling and howling, joining in with the jokes and calling out to Dave.

Even though it was a preview show and Dave kept a laid back attitude, the show could occasionally be accused of being “a little shit”. His knee slowed his dancing, sometimes missing moves, being out of time or colliding with the other dancers, but this just added to the comedic effect overall. Dave and his team are always laughing through it all and never take a screw-up seriously. He also plays with fight choreography and sound effects so out of sync and so bad that it’s funny.

As a finale, Dave takes two male audience members for a ‘twerkshoppe’ and sets them to music. I saw the show on International Women’s Day, which was also the subject of many punch lines, all of which were in good taste. It’s “lit AF”, it’s “woke as, fam”, and he’ll leave you in stitches.

Directed by Michael Abercromby, Lucidity is captivating, innovative, and thought-provoking. The cast (Andreas Lohmeyer, Charlotte Hazzard, Felicity McKay, and Shaynee Brayshaw) were sublime and highly skilled. Together and as individuals, they crafted scenes that were deeply engaging and compelling, delivering powerful and emotional lines throughout the performance. Even in the small details – for instance, the way they demonstrated the passing of time or the transition into Alex’s dreams – their work was obviously meticulously practiced, and all were highly effective in the development of the plot.

Although it was merely set on a stage, bare except for a bed, the actors’ movements, physical actions, and body language amplified the emotion within each scene. This was especially evident in interactions between characters, in one of Alex’s controlled dreams, and in their own individual performances. Both the script and the plot line were cohesive and intelligent.

Although the other characters did criticise Alex’s failures, they would almost always subsequently illuminate his virtues. Lucidity leaves the audience asking themselves: was Alex, known for his selfishness and disregard for others, a likeable protagonist or, in actuality, the antagonist of the story? Or was he simply a victim of his own creation?

Quite possibly one of the most interesting concepts of this year’s Fringe, Lucidity is a show that is heartbreaking, and extremely memorable.

The production was set to a video backdrop that resembled the graphics of the first Harry Potter PlayStation game, yet this enhanced the comedic nature of the scene and grounded the plot. The show was filled with dorky, satirical humour, quick improvisation, pop culture references that carefully “avoided copyright laws”, and multiple characters with their own specific voices and personalities. Even with the occasional wardrobe malfunction, and the frequent (deliberate) breaks in the character, Sound & Fury gave a fun, entertaining, and silly performance. However, some of the jokes were crass, overplayed, or fell a little flat. There’s a way to be funny without being offensive, or tasteless, and every so often, Sound & Fury blatantly did not achieve this. Although the reasoning as to why Frogart Snark was portrayed by an audience member was explained, the hero may have been better represented by one of the actors so the plot line could have been a little more cohesive. That said, it was unlikely cohesiveness was a priority.

The cast interacted exceptionally with one another and with the audience. By doing so, they achieved something rare: they allowed the audience to engage in the performance and become a part of it, rather than remaining as passive spectators. Overall, the organised chaos and spontaneity filled the show with excitement.

Jarrad, whose enthusiasm is contagious, hosts the show. He introduces the other cast members on stage and explains how the show will work. While he speaks, the Goblet of Fire is brought out and three audience members are asked to draw a name from the goblet, and from those names, the audience indicated by cheering which story they wanted to hear. The show that I saw was about Phineas Nigellus Black, and gave some real insight into the most disliked headmaster that Hogwarts ever had.

Nigellus’ story was quite a simple one. Pressured by his parents who wanted to maintain their pureblood Slytherin line and high social standing, Black was an ardent rule-follower and aimed to please. He even made an unbreakable vow with his mother that he would become the next Hogwarts Headmaster and thereby live up to their high expectations of gaining a position of influence in the wizarding world.

Instead of risking death by angry fans screaming about the cannon, the players appointed a crowd member to be ‘guardian’ and honk a horn if they said anything out of line (e.g. discussing mobile phones or light bulbs). This was a great way to avoid the inevitable criticism of mishaps in the performance.

Each performer acted in a variety of roles including teachers, students, and family members. Despite their lack of costuming each character was readily distinguished from the actor’s other characters by their stances, voices, and mannerisms. These actors worked well to characterise themselves, and the entire performance ran smoothly despite being improvised.

You cannot love the wizarding world of Harry Potter without being able to enjoy a show like this. Scriptease are hilarious on stage and will certainly satisfy your needs when it comes to Harry Potter related puns.

The Barbaroi merges circus with other forms of physical theatre, with the introductory act featuring blends of contemporary dance. The coloured lighting throughout the show is superb and placed very creatively, sometimes casting the dark shadows of the entertainers onto the roof, creating a very neat effect. The Barbaroi also features a wide variety of contrasting music during the acts; everything from upbeat songs during the intense balance acts to calmer electronic James Blake during the aerial straps. The performers sometimes interact with the music, such as during the hoops scene, where the trouper moves in time to sound effects. Costume selection is intriguing and varied, with some wearing gritty, underground leather and others in hoodies or jackets.

The group interact with each other on stage very humorously, with a range of facial expressions and body movements. Sarcasm, dominance, and seduction is used cleverly as they try and impress each other through the established hierarchy of the performers. The show is constant and scene changes are unnoticeable. Routines are carried out elegantly and feel practiced, which washes over with no real sense of jeopardy or ‘edge of your seat’ feeling as the show progressed. Acts lightly progress with difficulty but a ‘grand finale’ act was missing. Some tricks such as juggling felt flat with one too many failures, but on the rare occasion that a trick did fail, improvisation and character acting redeemed it.

The performers want to be storytellers and narrate their tale through physical theatre, which is a hard thing to do. The base of a story arc exists as the show begins and ends with rope acts and a single lighter, so they don’t have far to go. Playing with the character hierarchy would be a great place to start. That said, this show is highly entertaining and comes recommended for all who enjoy the circus.

Overthinking It, funnily enough, is a show about those kind of situations that get you thinking; the little every day things that just end up on your mind. They mention the need to escape using social media as an excuse not to think. A lot of the act is semi-autobiographical and, like most successful performances, it offers a view into both the comedians’ leapfrogging mindsets.

On the night of the show, there was only a small crowd present. Instead of deterring the performers however, this acted as a stimulant, encouraging them to get to know their audience so that their performance could be tailored just for them. As a result, the audience appeared more engaged and felt free to contribute to the show, regularly bickering with the pair.

The stand-up duo from Sydney were very polite onstage. Both Matt Lane and Danny Giles were very friendly and open with the crowd, explaining a bit about themselves and their lives outside of their comedy shows before beginning. Each comedian had their own set consisting of a number of stories and situations where they had been guilty of overthinking it, as we all do.

If you’re familiar with overthinking anything, this is probably an act that you will enjoy, or at the very least, relate to. Come along and hear about how Danny’s parents convinced him to move out of home, and about Matt’s willingness to help out a nerdy schoolboy. Even if you’re a recluse looking for someone to congratulate you for leaving the house, these guys will certainly cater to you!

Andi’s pacing throughout different portions of her life is questionable. She glosses over parts of the story and, in some cases, leaves it all to the imagination. This is especially prevalent in the final scenes when the audience is taken down a spiral of hurried emotions, then abruptly told goodnight and thanks for coming. With all the diary material she claims to have, I was left wanting more. Her family members are mentioned once or twice with no real background or justification and while the audience is told what is happening, they’re rarely shown why. Whether this was an intentional artistic choice remains unclear.

The stage is set-up with Andi surrounded by old dusty suitcases and boxes, implying that her story carries a lot of weight and baggage. Andi enters wearing a dress of multiple bright colours, which is a contrast to the dark browns of the suitcases, and eventually the dark gloominess of her acting and stories. Time and location of the story is shown to progress through little cues in her suitcases and on a model globe, which was a clever use of the props. Andi also uses sound effects and voice-overs to progress the story, as well as the occasional original musical number. These interactions are clever, comical, and sometimes M-rated.

Mid-way through the show Andi brings out her ‘Ask Diary’ segment, whereby she reads out a question an audience member has asked before the show and answers it through interpreting a random sentence from her diary. While this segment is a funny bit of improvised comedy and a great exercise of audience interaction, it served little purpose in forwarding the narrative, and this time could have been better spent on the parts of the story that were rushed or glossed over.

#DearDiary deserves most of it’s positive reviews but elements of the story, mainly the pacing, held me back from enjoying it fully. Nonetheless, Andi’s performance is funny and engaging, making this a solo-show worth seeing.