Edinburgh Fringe 2024
Squires
The Squires
Genre: Comedy, Historical
Venue: theSpace @ Surgeons' Hall
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
A tale of what happens when four idiots with a penchant for swords and swashbuckling think they’re the answer to every distressed damsel’s prayers. Oh, and they’re well into philosophy and the search for a mathematical proof to prove the concept of gravity. Silliness on steroids in an hour of manic comedy.
Review
Once upon a time, when “gallant knight saves damsel in distress” was an unformed plot device in the storyteller’s mind, complete idiots roamed the forests, assuming that a couple of swishes of a sword at a tame looking lizard would win the heart of the girl of their dreams. And that they’d live happily ever after, of course.
At least that’s the premise of this hugely enjoyable tale from The Squires called, appropriately enough, Squires, a historical workplace comedy that sees an unlikely group of friends coalesce with the common goal of not being accused of a rather clumsy murder. It’s like The Comedy of Errors meets Twelfth Night meets Blackadder The First with a bit of Monty Python and The Holy Grail thrown in just when it appears we’re hitting a serious bit.
We start at the end, with the squires heaving the body into their less than salubrious quarters in one half of an animal byre. These people who spend a lot of their working day clearing up animal poop are now faced with a challenge – dispose of the body without leaving a shred of evidence. Then no-one can accuse you of murder.
So begins a deliciously silly and wonderfully labyrinthine tale involving wannabe squires Fred, Otto, Dari and Lance who spend the little of their lives that doesn’t involve shifting animal deposits alternately exploring what it might be like living life as an ant, whether dragons exist or are just a metaphor and why things always hit the ground at the same time when dropped from the same height.
But what’s happened to the beautiful daughter of Sir Richard Gravehorse, lord of the local manor? Oh, and just who is the new chap on the block, the mysteriously chivalrous Phil? Why does hoity-toity maid Tiffany have the hots for him? And what is that weird Wizard smoking?
See, I told you it was silly and complicated. And, just when you think the denouement has arrived, we’re off down another twisty rabbit hole for further frolics and chaos before light finally dawns that the solution to the body disposal conundrum is right in front of everyone. See, everything is obvious, once you know the answer.
There’s so much to admire in this wacky romp of a show that also subliminally questions the value of some of the things we do as a human race and how it’s OK to just be you – don’t waste time trying to be something you ain’t. The acting is appropriately caricatured, full on commedia dell’arte if you prefer a more theatrical term. Lines cascade over each other and we flip effortlessly from scene to scene in what were a series of cleverly executed tableaux, each of which lobbed another twist into an already warped tale, with familiar Shakespearian plot devices bringing knowing smiles to parts of the audience.
Dari (Alex Thompson) was completely convincing as an eccentric seeking to prove the existence of gravity, scarily like Rowan Atkinson’s Edmund in Blackadder The First. Otto (Judah Brecher) and Fred (Greg Worden) nail it as philosophical and wannabe wordsmith idiots respectively whilst Lance (Kavi Noonan) was the very model of the gallant numpty around which this piece is focused.
Completing the excellent cast were the charismatic Phoebe Tompkins (Phil) and the truly effervescent Christina Randazzo as Tiffany, our maid with social pretensions. And the staging is both creative and clever, props and set simple and appropriate and the sound/lights supportive of the fast paced action crashing around us.
Silly on steroids it might be, but this is a superb bit of writing/directing from Hannah Brecher, resulting in a consummately delivered piece of ‘erm, silliness, a reminder that, sometimes, we might benefit by taking ourselves and life less seriously. Thoroughly recommended.
