Capital Fringe 2010: Five Years of Killer Robots, Drunks and Men in Lederhosen
How many organizations do you know that ring in a fifth anniversary with Barbies bent on "world sexual dominance", a "'Miss Teen Jesus' pageant" and a modern dance piece inspired by The Bell Jar? In other words, welcome back, Capital Fringe Festival.
Last night's festival preview at Fort Fringe (home base is again at the group's reserved parking lot at 607 New York Avenue NW) offered an evening almost exclusively devoted to the performers barreling into town this month. The festival may be light on new initiatives this year, but the evening, hosted by Fringe Executive Director Julianne Brienza, gave a sneak peek of what we can expect as Fringe celebrates its fifth year of doing what Fringe does best: showcasing the talents of those artists semi-established and otherwise who normally don't get a whole lot of stage time. This year's Fringe is the largest yet, with 137 shows (compared to last year's 131) running from July 8-25.
Like last year, most venues are conveniently close together, although artists will offer their work to audiences across 10 main spaces this year instead of five (here's the map). The number of opportunities to catch a show has jumped, too: there are 715 total performances this year, compared to 627 in 2009. Maybe a festival pass will be worth the investment this year?
For an idea of what you're up against, here are some of last night's most intriguing works (for better or for worse):
Do Not Kill Me, Killer Robots: Lots of cardboard signs and, surprisingly, laughs, from Ben Egerman, who orchestrates a one-man show about the last actor on earth. His excerpt, however, shed no light on how his audience served as killer robots, waiting to bring his life to an end -- do you dare spend an hour with him to find out?
Ten/thirtyfour: A play about the D.C. riot of 1968, the players brought a surprisingly powerful scene featuring Stokely Carmichael (played by an actor with black Xs on his hands) at the height of SNCC's influence. These kids didn't just ask for attention -- they demanded it, a plus when such heady subject matter is at stake. A must see, for sure.
Another Picnic at the Asylum: Could have used a quiet stage, rather than a noisy outdoor bar on a main drag -- but it could be that's not the main problem with this frantic one woman show about coming of age as a parent falls into manic-depression. The excerpt was tough to follow despite the chaotic atmosphere, and the rest of the audience seemed to agree.
Galactica in Irrelevant Acts of Entertainment: Although it's not entirely clear what this show is about, the Fringe preview's closer was a knockout. Galactica and her boys (all in silver cummerbunds) hit us with a fantastic, slightly extraterrestrial version of Stevie Wonder's 'Superstition.' If the whole show goes that way, it should make for a ridiculously fun performance.
Speaking of such, passes are already up for grabs online, and can also be purchased by phone or at the box office. Tickets for a single show are $15, and for a major Fringe fix, discounted festival passes range from $50 (4 shows) through $300 (all access, baby). Everyone still needs a $5 button to enter a venue, but get a festival pass and yours is free. Button bonus: Show yours off outside the venues and get discounts at local establishments like Miss Pixie's, Woolly Mammoth and Nellie's.
The Baldachinno Gypsy Tent Bar (rest easy -- you don't need a Fringe button to get in) is back at Fort Fringe this year. The grill's ready for turkey burgers, salads are chopped, and there's a bar stocked with six beers on tap, plus cans of PBR at the ready and wine for the classier folks among us.
But it's not really about the bar, as you know. Fringe's infamy comes from its unpredictability and lack of barriers to entry, and last night's 15-performance preview was just another link in that chain. A wide and ridiculous range of shows, from Assembly Required: How to Write, Produce and Stage a Musical: The Musical! (two guys in track suits, rhyming!) to Elephant (no elephants: just three girls in their underwear, staring at you) proved that, once again, it's safe to say that we're in for one hell of a ride.