I was lucky enough to be in Edinburgh for two days during the Fringe, which was an incredible opportunity to see how such a huge festival operates. Hailing from Adelaide, home of the second largest Fringe festival in the world (after Edinburgh), I’m pretty familiar with the Fringe format, but with a Fringe more than 2 times the size of Adelaide’s, Edinburgh’s Fringe is a completely different animal.

Adelaide’s Fringe has its benefits – our huge parklands allow us the space to create magical, multipurpose venues like Gluttony and the Garden of Unearthly Delights that Edinburgh simply can’t fit into their dense city plan, and the constant threat of rain in Edinburgh, even in Summer, limits the opportunity for outdoor theatre that Aussies take for granted. Also, a Fringe the size of Edinburgh’s in a normally-quite-small city does tend to get a little chaotic, which can be both a good thing (with shows playing from 9 in the morning until 3 or 4 the next morning) and a bad thing (with venue hosts hosting so many shows they are completely unaware of what show is playing when, sometimes even turning away audiences for shows they were unaware they were meant to host)

One thing Edinburgh does exceedingly well, though, is making the festival accessible. Partially due to its central location for those from the UK and Europe, and partially due to its huge student and working-class population, the Fringe festival caters to every nationality, with many multi-lingual shows and touring traditional companies, and to every budget.

In Adelaide, you can occasionally see a free show, but these are a) few and far between, b) almost solely comedy shows and c) often come with low expectations, due to the fact that they don’t charge.

Edinburgh’s Free Fringe is entirely different – their lineup is huge and varied, ranging from dance and musical theatre to comedy and visual art, and the shows are widely attended by the Fringe community, and well-respected. Also, Free Fringe audiences are among the most enthusiastic I’ve seen; maybe it’s because they come in without preconceptions, or maybe it’s because they’re as excited as I am by the idea of free/pay-what-you-can theatre, but their keen energy is tangible. This is one aspect of the Fringe where I am passionately Team Edinburgh.

Here’s a little taste of the kind of shows you can expect from the free lineup of the Edinburgh Fringe:

Australia – A Whinging Pom’s Guide
As an Aussie, I couldn’t very well pass this one up, and I’m glad I didn’t. Dan Willis is funny without being crass or, conversely, pretentious, and after three years living down under, is an expert on the things we ‘Strayans do that, realistically, make no sense (although he’s definitely wrong about Vegemite tasting gross – it’s basically a superfood!). Conversing with the audience without making them feel picked-on or embarrassed (unless they were the token Australian in the audience, of course!) and able to roll with the punches if a joke fell flat or an observation didn’t quite hit home, you could tell Willis was a pro.The audiovisual elements left a little to be desired, with the lack of a working microphone after some truly terrible static issues, and the use of a computer screen instead of a projector for visual aids, but the room was small enough that neither of these really detracted from Willis’ comedy. For any Aussie expats looking for a dose of nostalgia, this show is for you.

Feta with the Queen
This one was less of a planned outing and more of a “Oh hey look a free flyer I’ll go see this!” snap decision. However, it was definitely worth the spontaneity. Katerina Vrana is performing Feta with the Queen in both Greek and English this Fringe, and, while I have only seen the English-language version, it is side-splittingly, stereotypical-plate-smashingly fantastic. With no real visual components and only the occasional audio effect the show is minimalist, and allows Vrana to draw the focus she deserves. This is lucky because, as Vrana does have a tendency to talk with increasing speed as she builds up a joke, if there were any other distractions she would be hard to follow, especially for Edinburgh’s largely-international Fringe audience. Even if you’re not Mediterranean or British, this is a show to see. Vrana’s exploration of stereotypes – rejecting some, wholeheartedly approving others – will resonate with everyone. If nothing else, this show will leave you REALLY craving some feta, and who doesn’t love feta, right?

Dizney Rascal
Of all the free shows I saw during the Fringe, this was the best-prepared by a mile. Complete with an accompanist, pre-filmed video segments, and lots of other quirky surprises, this cabaret easily attracted the biggest audience I’ve seen for a free show. Any why wouldn’t it? Rebecca Humphries’ choice of topic – a modern, slightly-cynical take on Walt Disney and his Classics – is bound to attract an audience. Although she falls into the occasional “Modern Critique of Disney” cliché (seriously, if I hear that Belle’s love for the Beast is just Stockholm Syndrome from one more comedian I’LL turn into a monster and move to an abandoned castle), many of her songs and skits are fresh and surprising. Humphries’ voice sometimes lacks pitch control, and often she’s a little ambitious when writing huge, soprano belt parts for herself, but her singing technique is hardly the focus of the show – Humphries’ personality (and the personalities of her many princess alter-egos) shine through, and leave the audience as charmed by her as a Disney prince by his princess.

Defying Gravity
Defying Gravity, for me, was another last minute decision – I saw a poster of Sooz Kempner in Elphaba Green, saw the title, and I was sold. However, the title is a little misleading – save a few Wicked songs linked tenuously to her patter, the show isn’t really about Wicked. In fact, I’m not entirely sure what this one WAS about. The show started strong, with Kempner discussing her dream to play the Wicked Witch professionally and rolling through the standard I’ve-been-around-the-block-a-few-times stories about her previous jobs, as is fairly common in autobiographical cabaret. Kempner’s rendition of ‘The Wizard and I’ was well-done and she is clearly a talented and technical singer. However, after this point, the show dissolved into exploration of Kempner’s family dramas, which, although baffling and unfortunate, weren’t always very funny. The lack of audience response seemed to rattle Kempner, which, as any comedian will tell you, can start a vicious cycle – the more rattled you feel, the less funny you feel, and the fewer laughs you receive, the more rattled you become. However, with different, more defined subject matter, Kempner could be one to watch in future festivals.