It’s almost refreshing to see a piece of, kind of, conventional theatre as a part of the Fringe (actually three pieces to be more precise). The kind in which one or more actors step on stage portraying some sort of a character and through monologue and dialogue follow some kind of a plot, creating some sort of coherent story line generated from conflict and raising interest in a particular topic. The sort of show that is sort of strange among the Fringe sort.

Co.Space is a perfect setting for it too: a lot of space, of which only a fraction is used for the performance, in order to create an intimate atmosphere and bring the audience as close to the action as possible, I guess. That kind of works, apart from the uncomfortable seats making sitting through the three-play show a challenge.

Producer Grae Burton, director of two of the plays, has a very hands on role on the night, being on the door, managing the comps list and taking tickets, showing everybody to the bar and to their seats, MC-ing the evening’s program and making sure smokers are back in time for the performance. Great job, although I feel that the MC-ing part is unnecessary and breaks up that “intimate atmosphere” a little by e.g. announcing the next act or a song, where the audience would be perfectly fine seeing what’s next and spontaneously moving towards the action.

Anyway, the action starts with a ‘CRY’ song, written and beautifully performed by Christina Divine, followed by two characters appearing on stage in chains. They are chained to their fears and pain, bound by their friendship and kept alive by their conversation (literally). Even though they don’t know each other’s names, and maybe don’t even have one, they grab our attention with well-paced dialogue about life and death. This first of the three short plays, NINE, ends with the death of one, leaving us wanting more …

… and more we get. A funeral is the setting for FRIEND OF THE DECEASED, the second one-act play in this intriguing Jane Shepard’s trilogy. An unusual meeting by the grave of two mourners: a widow who is not sad at all, but angry. And a ‘friend of the deceased’ who has much more to mourn, and does it better. Through a set of cleverly written and executed interactions they manage to become friends; friends of living.

After another 15 minute break, THE LAST NICKEL brings the whole cast together for a ‘good night story’ with songs and puppets. Breigh Fouhy and Brooke Petersen deliver a lively and believable ‘two sisters story’ involving angels and gods, devils and chocolate milk.

The puppetry of Christina Cortesi and Christina Divine adds to the liveliness and believability. Switching from angels to devils, they make sure we notice there is hardly any difference (apart from costumes) in what those archetypal characters represent and deliver.

“You killed the Angel!” marks the last ‘death’, the main connecting element (apart from life) in tonight’s well developed trilogy. And it leaves us wanting more: more life.  

Exploring a primal human need for communication, these Kick Ass Plays ignite that so much needed inner-dialogue; and even more important, the need to feel. Life needs space and time for silence or reflection. Without that, life dies. The Kick Ass Plays inspire us to keep communicating and feeling.  

Seeing a show like this reminds me of a remark made by performance artist Marina Abramovic: “There is a huge difference between performance and theatre. In theatre knife is a prop and blood is red. In performance knife is the knife and blood is blood.”

To my delight, the Kick Ass crew makes a great effort in stepping away from ‘the theatre’ and as close to ‘performance’ as possible. Without using knives or blood. 

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