Edinburgh Fringe 2009
The male/female ratio of the audience is very heavily weighted in favour of the boys. Any presumptions as to why they’ve come to see this late piece of theatre seem to be confirmed when somebody wolf whistles as the lights come up, and there are delighted sniggers when Adam asks Eve if something will grow when she plants a kiss on him.
But at the heart of this production, beyond the audience flirting gimmick of Fringe nudity, is a rather sweet little tale of innocence and language. At least, there is, once you can stop yourself wishing that they’d simply stop .. jumping up and down so much.
You do get used to the nakedness, and you can accept that it is sincerely important to the plot – as Adam and Eve, it becomes much like any other costume. What’s left, then, is the words, as the two characters attempt to form relationships and conversations when two such things haven’t previously existed. There’s some f the stable clichés – Adam is thought to be a bit loud and commanding, while Eve is always hanging around and looking at the moon – but there are some reasonably new and refreshing concepts on display too: in a touching scene, Eve looks out at the animals and beasts, and reflects that they all have a mother to nurture them, while she alone in the kingdom, has no mother.
Both performances are, as they should be, unabashed, revealing and – yes – emotionally naked. To coin a phrase: worth a look