Edinburgh Fringe 2024
Projection
Aideen McQueen and Sparrowbill Productions
Genre: Comedy, Solo Slam Poetry, Storytelling
Venue: Laughing Horse @ City Cafe
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
In a tiny karaoke room at the City Cafe, we spend an hour hosted by Lucy, played by comedian Aideen McQueen who is in full control of her story, her audience, in slightly less control over her tech, but no matter, it all works, becausde this show is a thing in itself, a very pleasing thing at that. We are invited to “witness Lucy’s escapades as she grapples with love, solitude and the snares of social media addiction while navigating a relationship with a man who seems barely alive. Have you ever written a text message and agonised over its contents? Felt genuine distress as you waited for its return? Experience real-time SMS exchanges and unforeseen turns as this one-hour spectacle delves into the comical complexities of co-dependency and the quest for purpose in a family-centric society.”
Review
Aideen McQueen is a multi-talented and rather acclaimed stand-up comedian who brings this satisfying piece of gig theatre to a karaoke room that would take twenty max on a busy night. She makes the best of it, folding into the story as we, the audience, become the flatmates most definitely firmly on the end of her lease.
What we have here is an hour of gig theatre that occasionally and deliberately strays from a tightly written narrative—a very well-crafted story—into audience banter, stand-up-style punchlines, and side-swipes. Yes, it’s a fusion of storytelling and stand-up, rooted in theatre. Developed as part of Soho Theatre Labs, it’s an accomplished piece of writing, delivered by an assured, charismatic performer.
Important themes are woven into the story of a human being in search of the “something” we are all seeking. It could be a man, it could be happiness and fulfilment, but it might just be wretched contentment and, when all is said and done, she is having none of that. Smartphone fused to her fingertips, this is a painful exploration of the world of texts, WhatsApp messages, and how we catastrophise silence and non-response in the digital age. A few years back, I created a theatre show called “Text,” which played at Brighton Fringe and explored the poor replacement texting can be for genuine physical and emotional contact. “Projection” covers that but also a lot more.
There are tears, there is laughter, there are the ***hole men, but also the primeval fear of the potentially stale safety of decency and higher love. But that is what we all want in the end, isn’t it? “Real” connection? Something deeper that lasts? Lucy, played by Aideen (who peeps for real from behind the character-played clouds occasionally with an offhand quip or wry observation), is a seeker, trapped in the deep, torturing breath that precedes the next texted reply.
This is clever stuff, flavoured with a bit of Irish wisdom, mothers from hellish heaven, job and career hunting, and the temptations and patheticness of the Tindered life.
The smallish audience leaned in, joined in, and then sat back and savoured some fine storytelling, a believable and relatable character, reflecting the best and worst of us all. Men do not come off lightly, but neither does Lucy herself.
Throughout the piece, some visual aids in the form of set-piece videos and screenshot texts and social media immerse us in Lucy’s troubled and troubling digital life. It’s painfully funny and all a bit rough around the edges, which, in part, it is meant to be, for, as I stated at the start of this review, this show is a thing. And it is as this “thing” it should be reviewed. This is a rough life. Aideen McQueen has created a puppet character for her writing and she consciously keeps the strings loose until she, at certain well-chosen times, pulls them chokingly tight and the comedy character becomes believably anguished and the tears cried reach our witnessing hearts. This is why it is also gig theatre, because, though the style and venue make for a gig, there’s tighter theatre at work underneath.
The tech does need tightening and finessing a bit, and some of the set-piece acting needs further work and finessing. The pace drops a little too much towards the end, and the pacing of the ending needs a look.
Overall, this is an hour of beautiful solo writing, brashly, boldly and skilfully delivered, with deeper roots into some important questions about life, love, and meaning in the digital age. The writing doesn’t hold back, the material is in your face and lap, but knows when to tone it down and be tender, more subtle, and never too obvious in its material and message.
It deserves a bigger venue. It is one of those shows on the Free Fringe that is worth the tenner I put in the plastic bowl on the way out. And some. Aideen McQueen has created a precious gem of a show on the Fringe. Currently, it’s a bit of a hidden gem and deserves to be seen by you. Gig theatre at its best.
