Clown is in vogue again, coming at us wide-eyed wherever you look on the fringe – at Frankie Thompson’s Catts, Julia Masli’s Choosh!, or with this fine debut from Sami Abu Wardeh. The show introduces us to a clown in character-comic’s clothing, as a faux-naif, Palestinian-accented Wardeh depicts the co-workers he met while cleaning on a cruise ship. These dancers, martial artists and sauna attendants give full rein to Wardeh’s flexible physicality: most of the laughs – and there are plenty – come from our host’s outlandish physical antics, be they prancing, street fighting or catching innumerable cherry tomatoes the audience lob towards his mouth.
While Wardeh himself makes for an engaging and spontaneous stage presence, as he chases those tomatoes and beats us to attention on his tabla drum, there’s no doubt who his standout character is here. Giralomo is an Italian movement guru, inflated with the importance of his chosen calling. He depicts for us the practical applications of dance in everyday life – if not in England, whose movement traditions he disdains. (“Billy Elliot? For me, it is better if he stays in the mine.”) He solicits favourite films from the crowd – films he will then turn into pure choreography. Wardeh is blissfully funny here while barely speaking a word, signalling boredom with his audience’s film synopses, and (having agreed to enact The Sound of Music) ungraciously accepting the burden of depicting Nazis in dance.
The succeeding characters aren’t as rich – but there’s still fun to be had with his over-enthusiastic kids’ ninja teacher, and sleazy Spanish guitarist Rodrigo, matchmaking members of his public in song. A couple of throwaway asides – one that flips the show’s narrative on its head; another sourcing Wardeh’s characterisation skills in the code-switching required of immigrants – add sparkle and a hint of substance to this gallery of oceangoing oddballs. There’s understated mystery, too, around the real Wardeh, as the accent and overt gormlessness of earlier fall away. But not the puppyish sense of fun, nor that great clown’s ability to keep the audience in the palm of his hand, in delighted anticipation of whatever’s going to happen next.
Sami Abu Wardeh is at Underbelly, Edinburgh, until 28 August.
