Big in Belgium, Richard Jordan Productions, Theatre Royal Plymouth, RBC
De Fuut is a bird. That bird above.
Birds feature thematically in Bastiaan Vandendriessche’s eery, creepy, threatening, really, really scary creepshow.
“What I would really like to do
is go to a desert island with Leda and Emma,
or sail away with the sperm whale
we are lying on the deck
in our swimming costumes
and I tell them stories about
the destruction of the world
about the futility of life
we compose 200 songs together
with the best ironic poetry there is
and I would never hurt them
I would just be very kind and they would too
and we would never go to sleep
they would kiss me on my neck
they kiss me on my neck”
You see, he’s a child molester. A groomer. A Sea Scout leader with a penchant for 13 year old girls. But you know, not just little girls, he’s slept around with men and women.
He’s all cooled out at his desk, telling us of his exploits. Not boasting, just sharing. In his green Kaftan, His love of a Scandi solo performer (Ride?) is apparent as he shares his love for him with us.
The set is a shambolic corner of a large venue with us crammed in so he can get close and personal. A lot of whispering happens in this show. Sick whispering. And shouting. Real anger directed at audience members. This is not for the faint hearted.
It’s an emotional bastard of a piece.
It’s a bit sick, but it’s also a bit brilliant.
Vandendriessche is amazing. Utterly hateful. Utterly charming. Utterly handsome. Utterly Nabokov.
You have to make your own decisions about seeing this very challenging piece of theatre. It’s not for everyone, in fact it’s hardly for anyone. But it’s why theatre is important and can challenge society. It’s uber-Summerhall. Thank fuck we have this venerable establishment.
Alongside the Traverse, that is pulling no punches with Underground Railroad Game and Ulster American, I have had a Fringe that already has delivered spine-tinglingly challenging thought provocation on a grand scale. This does it in a very small, very intimate, very creepy, very Belgian way.
Then again, you might just think it’s a thing by a peado. (I didn’t think it was!)