Presented by Fishmarket Theatre Co
Review by Dominic Corr
There’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure. It’s a derogatory term for having a passion for something (usually a television series, comic book, or film) a person places their passions into, while others may snort or raise their eyebrows. It’s a multi-billion pound industry; ask a Whovian, a Trekkie, or a Potterhead. Without media fandoms, many pieces would have been lost to time, and over the years, it’s become a more and more lucrative engine. Cringe #NoBetaWeDieLikeMen is a tribute to fan culture, fanzines, and self-created material. It does so with a reversal of the infamous male gaze, instead focusing the narrative through a more playful female gaze and a hearty dose of queer theatre craft.
That’s right, folks; this is fan-fiction territory. And not just any fan fiction, but slash fiction (Google it, trust us, it’s safe).
Dipping between two timeframes: the sixties and the height of science fiction, and the commercial juggernaut of comic books and nostalgia of today. Cringe openly and with loving pokes at science fan-fiction fandoms and fan-fiction through some excellent comedic and heartfelt performances and charters, the steps we’ve taken, and the steps back towards queer representation and acceptances in real-life relationships.
Using audio extracts and tight spandex, Cringe thrusts itself into the fan-fiction aspects with force and laughter as a young woman writes a secretive piece of slash fiction (think fan fiction, but sexier). The narrative swithers between the late sixties when a group of suburban women gather around their favourite sci-fi show—complete with mascot. Though the humour ramped up, the existence of these clubs was very real and often wittily captured the enthusiasm from the entire cast.
Cringe also dips into the now, as teens bond over the love for the old show and the unexplored storylines. Quickly (both to credit and fault), the plot showcases the differences in timeframes and technologies, treading some familiar boards while capturing the adoration and joy that loving something can bring those who need it most. Occasionally bitter-sweet and a touch too saccharine and unfocused in embracing the nostalgic and nerdy with some smart staging and audio.
Enthusiastic, with a brilliantly knowing script that grasps both subject and audience remarkably well, Cringe isn’t just for those with a guilty pleasure—it’s a wide-open reach for anyone who has loved something or someone who felt a little ‘off’ to the rest of the world.
Beauty Comes From the Fear
Cringe runs at theSpace@Niddry St until August 20th.
Running time: Fifty minutes without interval
Review by Dominic Corr (contact@corrblimey.uk)
Editor for Corr Blimey, and a freelance critic for Scottish publications, Dominic has been writing freelance for several established and respected publications such as BBC Radio Scotland, The List, The Skinny, Edinburgh Festival Magazine, The Reviews Hub, In Their Own League, and The Wee Review. As of 2023, he is a member of the Critic’s Award for Theatre Scotland (CATS) and a member of the UK Film Critics.
