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Edinburgh Fringe 2010

You’re Not Like the Other Girls Chrissy

Caroline Horton

Genre: Drama

Venue: Pleasance Courtyard - The Attic


Low Down

In Paris, in 1945, the wonderfully amusing Christiane waits to be reunited with her English fiancé.



As soon as the audience are settled in their seats, the neatly dressed Christiane makes her entrance, laden with four large suitcases.  With a warm and charming smile, she greets and chats to us in French, before discovering that we are English.  Fortunately for us, Christiane speaks English very well.  We are at a train station where Christiane is queuing for a ticket.  ‘Imagine being stuck next to me in a queue’, she says, ‘for an hour’.  But it is a witty and delightful hour.







Through the course of the play, Christiane tells us the story of how her poor eyesight led to her being sent to


England (where she wouldn’t be able to strain her eyes by reading) and meeting the man who would become her fiancé.  She tells us of wartime, and the five years that pass while she waits for news of him, and of her determination in obtaining the papers to finally be able to go to England to marry.  It is a pleasant and meaningful tale, and the character of Christiane is incredibly likeable.  She is quirky, funny, and a bit of a minx.  She is played by Caroline Horton, also the creator of the piece, who delivers the role with ardour and precision.  She quickly establishes an easy rapport with her audience, and we are at once engaged, curious and delighted by the character and her story.







It is a simple yet magical piece of theatre.  Christiane sets the scenes of her story with clarity and atmosphere, aided by subtle lighting and the wonderful props built inside her array of suitcases: a field of blooming flowers, a pop-up silhouette of the Paris skyline, a bunch of red white and blue balloons – which when Christiane pops them with the pin of her brooch become the sound of bombs in wartime Paris. 












The piece ends with the projection of a photograph onto a suitcase, and we hear a voiceover – the gentle voice of an elderly woman, Christiane herself, who tells us of how her story ends.  More black and white photographs are projected onto the pastel coloured French flag at the back of the stage, along with titles (which sadly pass a little too quickly to fully absorb) and together these things bring this touching story to its tender conclusion.