Starting with the assault course of the Royal Mile, Gemma and Paul take on the countless retellings of Shakespeare in different situations (here we have it as a Western, Romy-Ho and Juliet), childrens theatre, improv (see above), poetry readings and stand-up comedy. None of the sketches go on for two long, and while some work better than others, there’s not a single misfire in the hour.

Strangely, there’s no sly digs at Jimmy Carr, which seems to be a feature of every other Fringe show, but that’s not a bad thing. The Beginners Guide to The Fringe is a breath of fresh air. A light comedic touch from two people who know where there strengths lie means this is one guide that veterans as well as beginners should search for.

Ravenhill’s 45-minute monologue brilliantly projects the complex anxieties surrounding global terrorism into the glossy and glib world of film. Product exposes the theatricality behind the new language and imagery of terrorism emerging in today’s society, particularly peddled by tabloid scaremongers.

Setting the scene for his young star, Ravenhill describes Mohammed’s ‘dusky frame’ and Amy’s ‘abattoir conversion’ apartment. He walks through the camera angles and warbles the potential soundtrack, wonderfully undercutting his script’s most dramatic moments. Such touches bring roars of laughter from the audience and it is clear from this response that Product is achieving its aim: such subject matter cannot be given the Hollywood treatment; terrorism on celluloid makes for a generic spectacle, filled with blockbusting action and special effects.

This whole production should be placed in quotation marks: it functions perfectly as a comedy and critique, scoring top marks in both categories. Laughing at a topic usually reserved for grave, fearful discussions should not create a repentant audience: it should reveal to us exactly how much we are being made fools of by investing in the farce outside the theatre.

Who: Mark Ravenhill and Plaines Plough: Product
Where: Traverse Theatre
When : 21:45-22:30; 16th – 28th August (except 22nd)

Being deliberately in the style of the Z-Grade TV shows, it’s almost impossible to fault the individual stories. The limited staging, garish costumes and constant re-use of the same actors enhances the similarities rather than distracting from them, and lends a warm and friendly charm to the anthology.

With such staples as the extinction of the dinosaurs; parents employing mind-altering machinery on their wayward children; a planet of hand puppets; and a delightful slice of time travel at the end that could, given the Fringe’s occasionally dabbling with experimental theatre, last all night, Science Blast Off Theatre is a gentle enough afternoon show that could easily bury itself into your brain and wake you at 3 in the morning as one of the concepts leaks out and turns your perceptions on their head.

Such a premise obviously requires an enormous suspension of disbelief from the audience, and clever use of lighting and powerful music help signal to the audience the beginning and end of Griff’s episodes. But our investment in the action on stage largely derives from the strength of both Palmer and Cowan’s performances. Cowan in particular is astonishing as Jack: not only does she convey the physicality of a troublesome toddler, but as a figment of Griff’s imagination shifts her performance into pure malice.

Palmer manages to show Griff’s mental instability through the simplest actions: questions about his wife’s day turn into an interrogation; begging for forgiveness he grips her arm until she cries out in pain. Such moments build up a palpable tension, which in conjunction with the unpredictability of Griff’s mood, keeps the audience gripped in fear for Lydia, whose rational character is eclipsed by Griff’s obsessions.

What is most powerful in this production is that our empathy is split between both parties involved. Lydia’s frustration as Griff denies there is a problem is felt by every audience member; yet, the hopelessness of Griff’s own situation cannot fail to provoke pity. This is a strong all-round production which qualifies it for dealing with such evocative subject matter as well as its likely nomination for a Fringe First.

Who: Andy Jordan Productions: Hush
Where: Pleasance Dome
When: 12:40-13:40; 4th-29th August

The content of the monologue is coherent and believable: Valentine has been mentally scarred and inhibited by a previous violent sexual encounter involving drugs and an older woman. As such he has remained a virgin, but thinks about sex all day, every day, and is in the process of obtaining a mail order bride. The disgust and fear with which Valentine recalls this incident is the highlight of this performance and luckily heightens its credibility.

Unfortunately the length of this piece is perhaps too much to ask of both performer and audience. Its languid pace and the tangibly hesitant acting become almost unbearable and are only relieved by the aforementioned episodes. Though to a certain extent these features could be explained away as part of Valentine’s demeanour and as representative of the lifelessness of his home and his existence, these excuses are not sufficient to entirely absolve this production of its undeniable flaws.

Who: Act Provocateur International: Valentine’s Day
Where: C Electric
When: 11:00-12:00; 4th-29th August (except 14th)

As a piece of historical investigation this show is certainly appealing as it gives a new dimension to a man, largely only known by name. Original footage from Kennedy’s assassination and 1960s America suggest that this company have really done their homework. Despite its billing as a musical, this piece’s focus on one character gives it greater depth.

Unfortunately, the humour which is pledged rarely appears and the songs occasionally seem to be at odds with the subject matter (though their hillybilly style is in keeping with Oswald’s Texan roots). This is by no means a heavy piece: it is light-hearted entertainment, but the hysterical tagline with which it is advertised is an exaggeration. Perhaps this is no bad thing as this show functions perfectly well without the comedy, and again perhaps with a few of the slightly incongruous musical numbers eradicated.

Dodgy American accents aside this show should appeal to fans of conspiracy theory and modern history, as well as those who are keen to see an alternative perspective on the American Dream. What makes it work is the unusual topic under the spotlight which cannot be accused of unoriginality, and so distinguishes this production from other musical offerings on the Fringe.

Who: LHO: Lee Harvey Oswald – The Musical
Where: C Electric
When: 15:00-16:20; 4th – 29th August (except 14th)

I challenge anyone going to see the Ladyboys of Bangkok not to spend the first half an hour wondering what the hell it is they are doing. It takes a while to get used to: a strange mix of cruise boat and school dance show entertainment, performed by men, the majority of who can only be described as stunning. This is the purpose: to dazzle, if not through glitz and glamour, then through a suspension of disbelief that these men do indeed possess the necessary male chromosome.

There is no questioning, however, that this is a real crowd pleasing show. Men from the audience are persuaded, hardly kicking or screaming, to join in with the fun, whilst female viewers happily provide the dance routine to the Village People’s YMCA. This is where the show’s success comes from, as the more the audience give, the more the performers seem to respond.

Releasing my inhibitions, although thankfully not enough to leap on stage, even I found myself clapping along. The Ladyboys certainly show the extent of what is available during an Edinburgh August. This is bold, brassy, unabashed entertainment at its best and is sure to keep audiences cheering for more, however, strange that may seem.

Who: Urban Circus Ltd: Ladyboys of Bangkok
Where: Meadows Theatre Big Tops
When: 19:00-20:40 & 21:15-22:55; 5th August – 3rd September

The making of this play is in Bridge’s careful dissection of a family apart but together. The stilted back and forth of a failing marriage is conveyed wonderfully by Gill’s wife (Katie Hartwill), whose acerbic demeanour is the same whether looking at curtain catalogues or faced with a knife to the throat. Gill’s (Jack Wharrier) obsession with money is placed in a dynamic opposition with the mysterious Mac, who is not concerned with the material but seems to talk in riddles which muse upon the abstract.

Mac is played with a dark intensity, appearing at times half-madman, half-genius. Bridge clearly sees this character as a mouthpiece for the overarching themes of the play and indeed forces at work in the universe. Whilst this is largely successful – of particular note are the poetic speeches similar to Jostein Gaarder’s work – at times Mac’s monologues can sap the audience’s strength a little, as this is quite a long piece for a Fringe debut.

But as a thinking man’s play this piece should be praised for its provocative themes and ambition, which are handled well by an impressive cast. Bridge has injected an element of chaos into a seemingly sterile scene – the family home – and through this manages to bring new life and new ideas to the Fringe stage.

Who: Mouse on the stair: Call of the Stranger
Where: C central
When: 19:00-20:30; 6th-28th August (even dates only)

The choice of material certainly makes a refreshing change from the Brechtian theatre which is usually taken to the festival. Aside from the story of ‘The Jewish Woman’ which could be deemed too emotional by the Brechtian purists amongst us, there is on the whole a close following of Brecht’s method making this a performance of which the playwright himself could surely not fail to approve.

Although keeping to Brecht’s notion that the theatre should not be a spectacle, this production is undeniably impressive in terms of its cast and the material covered, as well as the clarity with which key elements of Brechtian theory are conveyed to the audience. Indeed the audience are clearly the focus of this piece and their presence is not neglected for a second.

Such a challenging and rewarding show could well be the antidote to the reams of so-so naturalist theatre with which the Fringe is swamped. Unfortunately as the run has now ended solace must be sought elsewhere.

Who: Brentwood Theater Company: Brecht on Brecht
Where: Augustine’s
When: Run finished

Almost every line is from Lucas’ scripts. There’s no ad-libbing or re-imagining of scenes (aprt from some required improvising of the episodic crawls), and every line has the correct inflection, tone and stress jsut right. And the whole thing sounds like it;s running at x1.2 of real speed as it all sounds just a bit manic. If it could be throttled back to 40 minutes, then maybe it would feel 100% right… but you’d loose the frentic sense of fun it delivers and the fast set changes.

Ah yes, the sets and props. Much like Ewan McGregor performed most of the current trilogy in a green room, the cast here work with some staging blocks and black curtains, letting the audience fill in the bl;anks in their mind. The props, on the other hand, are as inventive as an episode of MacGyver. You will believe that you saw a fleet of X-Wings on the stage, you will be astounded by the appearance of Darth Vader’s Tie Fighter, you will be anticipating the carbon freezing chamber scene… no they’re not school chairs, bread packing crates or someone playing musical statues. It really is Star Wars. In Thirty Minutes. And in this edition, Han fires first.

Acts of brutality are chillingly choreographed: silence as a woman is brutally raped creates a dream-like effect, as victims scream but cannot be heard; fighting is transformed into waltzing as Beethoven’s music envelops the scene. The movement on stage is mesmerising, almost hypnotic, alluding to the mind-altering therapy which Alex will later receive and similarly subverting the audience’s reactions to such ordinarily abhorrent behaviour.

This is a demanding and physical performance by a cast who never leave the stage and who function as inanimate props and scenery in addition to their character roles. The energy which this brings to the stage adds to the almost Bacchanalian orgy of violence portrayed, as both audience and performers become engrossed in the intense physicality of this piece.

Sharply produced and incredibly compelling this performance is a must-see for the Festival. The company’s rendering of Burgess’ masterpiece is impressive and should most certainly be used as a benchmark for the very best theatre that the Fringe can offer.

Who: A Clockwork Orange
Where: Gilded Balloon
When: 16:00-17:00; 3rd-28th August (except 16th)

So within a few minutes the audience know exactly what to expect. Pretty much anything. A recurring joke with a dead budgie that refuses to be incarnated; Plenty of pyrotechnics to keep the firebugs happy; a perfectly pitched tribute to Tommy Cooper (although because of the act, there’s no mention of ‘glass, bottle, bottle, glass); And the macabre Dentist’s Chair of the title ensures a little shop of horrors cameo from Steve Martin makes it to Edinburgh.

A great show for kids, adults and grandparents, the humour is more family based than your average show, but nevertheless just as effective. Unusual enough to be different, but familiar enough to make it worthwhile. Recommended.

Okay it’s not really The Simpsons - while the cast of the hit Fox show have attended the Fringe (five years ago), MacHomer’s performance is through one man, Rick Miller, who’s doing every single voice, all the acting, and his only aide is a TV/Projector behind him which helpfully shows the backdrop scenes and character drawings of Ned Flanders, Mayour Quimby and all the rest to help the audience.

The set at the Pleasance One is spartan to say the least, but the kids didn’t seem to mind. The costumes more than make up for the lack of props. Everything’s a bit tatty, but that’s dwarfed by the sheer exuberance of the three perfomers. That carried over to the audience too, and right from the start all the parents (well, most of the parents) were singing along - with old favourite Ye Cannae Shove Yer Granny Aff The Bus proving very successful - as was the standard “who can sing louder” challenge being between the parents and the kids. The parents sang really loud but the kids were declared the winners. I was a little put-out by that!

The show itself has very little plot, though the flyers placed on each seat advertising The Happy Gang tour starting in October for the same show mentions characters not in this one-hour Fringe show, so I suspect we’ve watched a condensed version. There are lots of songs, a bit of dancing and the chance for a couple of hand-picked kids to go up on stage and win some prizes. My one year-old loved the bright lights and music, my three year-old was a bit nervous but soon settled in and sang along. My friend’s five year-old was utterly swallowed up by it and practically leapt onto the stage shouting, “look behind you!” when the beastie appeared.

Pleasance One is up a flight of stairs with no lift, but the staff are more than happy to help take buggies up. Buggies have to be folded and stored outside the theatre, and after the show had been left in the upstairs foyer right next to The Happy Gang merchandise stall and in the way of the toilets - not the easiest of places to reclaim your buggy from pile of thirty buggies, while people are trying to get to the toilet and kids are clamouring for badges, DVDs and flashing wands. And this is after having to queue in the courtyard right next to an ice cream stall!

All in all though, it’s a good show. The kids love it and it’s not too painful for the adults. But someone should tell Spatz he shouldn’t wear white pants with a dark purple kilt if he’s going to burl around that fast…

Oozing a Machiavellian pleasure for manipulation the Marquise’s relationship with the Vicomte crackles with sexual tension and seduces the audience. The web of deceit which these two fiends spin over their unfortunate victims is beautifully illustrated by the witlessness of Cecile and the hysterical hopelessness of Madame de Tourvel – the Vicomte’s greatest challenge.

The manipulative is also pivotal to the staging of this piece as characters are costumed in black and white according to their morality and moved around as chess pieces according to their influence. This is used to brilliant effect as the play moves towards its climax: the intricate relationships on stage begin to falter and it becomes apparent that the ‘dark’ characters of the Marquise and the Vicomte are no longer powerful but are struggling to survive.

This is a strong cast who are not afraid of the challenging and complex characters which this piece provides, but perform with a confidence well beyond their student years. A must-see for fans of literature as well as for its lessons in the art of deception.

Entering the auditorium a mist of dry ice clouds the seating and a gentle hubbub amongst the audience indicates towards two mountaineers scaling the front rows. This was a promising start, gearing the audience up for later interactions with custard pies and incontinent Olympiads.

However, this promise faded as the audience’s attention was split between the action on stage and the English subtitles provided. Monty Python’s humour is as much verbal as it is physical and a great deal of their linguistic trickery was lost in its Gallic translation.

Fortunately “And now for something completely different” still rang true, as did the take-offs of ‘Corpsing’ and the science of jokes lecture. The cast were clearly comfortable onstage and were obviously enjoying themselves – although perhaps at times more so than the audience, who were left feeling a little ignored as the subtitling struggled to keep up with the dialogue.

Technical difficulties may not have been the only cause of delayed laughter. The momentum of this show began to falter towards its conclusion leaving both audience members and performers tired and slightly hesitant of their roles. But this is early days in Fringe terms and with an injection of pace this show could go on to please both Python fans and newcomers alike.

Within the rather austere surroundings of St George’s West the show takes place against a psychedelic monochrome backcloth. The black and white colour scheme is inventively used to invite us into the weird world of oompa-loompa style munchkins, who giggle irrepressibly at their antics, as they fall around the stage in true slapstick fashion.

Other favourites with the audience are the robots, whose mechanical movements are brought to life by the sound of hand-held drills, suggesting that the Ashton Brothers would be similarly at ease as street entertainers as they are performing to a nearly full house.

Maintaining a rapid pace and flow on stage have clearly been considered by this group. Jokes from one sketch overflow into the next and scene changes are integrated into gags. This fluidity contributes to the aura of magic which this show emits, as the audience are continually surprised by the feats made possible on stage: ladders being carried between teeth, one man growing to reach the ceiling and levitation to name but a few.

What shines through in this performance is the energy and desire to please of the Ashton Brothers. Dripping with sweat they perform a musical encore on beer bottles to complete the show. It is this enthusiasm coupled with their undoubted talent that is sure to warm them to the hearts of Fringe audiences.

There are so many levels that this show works on. The first is the surface layer where Chas Early is doing a rather impressive cover/tribute of the late Bill Hicks. Going ever so slightly deeper is the idea that Early is channelling the spirit of Hicks back down to let everyone know exactly what he thinks about the world today.

So yes, you can come in and finally see a comedian you never saw when he was alive. As exemplified by the four people in the audience who had seen him pre February 1994. And that there, that little throwaway line at the start of the show, sums up what Early and his writing partner Richard Hurst are actually wanting to talk about. The Cult of Bill.

What is it about Hicks that has made him more popular in death than in life? Why are his words still being read, his CD’s being sold, his act being quoted, and nothing has changed in the world? Are people not listening? And why is Dennis Leary now leeching off the New York Fire Department in the same way that Early/Hicks demonises him in his hour long show?

Throughout the show, which makes no use of existing Hicks material (apart from common Hicksian themes such as guns, politics, rock music and blowjobs saving the world from terrorism), it really does feel that you are watching Hicks. It takes a lot longer to be comfortable with the performance than if you were to see a regular stand-up, but you are going to be there, in the zone, wondering whether you should laugh at jokes about the Columbine Massacre or 9/11 Corporate branding

And then the last five minutes kicks in. If you’ve not worked out the Cult of Bill undercurrent, then Early (who’s own persona makes a little cameo appearance) pulls the rug out from under you, demanding that you look at yourself and ask why you’re at this tribute to a dead guy that nobody listened to until it was too late.

Or you can go along for the dick jokes.

Taking five of the greatest discoveries (Brownian Motion, the Photo Electric Effect, General Relativity, Special Relativity and the Unified Field Theory), they use the mind-bending physics behind it all as the basis of the show, descibing them in practical experiments using cricket bats, footballs, massive trampoline like sheets of rubber, a really bad fake hand, and a huge amount of humour. There’s no real belly laughs, but then the science is wacky enough without having to cope with an accordian travelling at close to the speed of light (which is just the icing on the cake) . The team from the British Science Museum just need to push the concepts presented here very slightly to take us into the wonderful world of Physics with no formulas.

On stage they’re all confident, at ease with each other, and play off the audience in a gentle self-depreciating fashion that only mad scientists can master. Punk Science is probably a great way to start of a night of Fringe fun. Funny enough to be enjoyable, but light enough to act as a great first course.