Buxton Fringe Review
What a way to start a show! To the sound of The Andrews Sisters, the audience enters the Paupers Pit, their sense of smell assaulted by TCP, berated by two young women in nurse's uniform and forced to eat bowls of macaroni cheese and drink glasses of milk. This complete immersing in sensory experience sets the tone for this highly original and accomplished piece of complete theatre, that in its running time will include folk tales, torture and even a dance routine.
A young airman crashes through the window of a hospital and relates to the two nurses a fable of his capturing Death in his magic bag. The nurses for their part are more than a little obsessive and occasionally take on more the demeanour of concentration camp guards than members of the caring profession. It is a testament to Danny Holme as the airman that he puts up with being routinely abused, stripped, soaked and forced to drink a whole pint of milk in the course of this show. Anna Beecher and Rachel Lincoln as the nurses, meanwhile are studies in repressed sexuality, the first severe and dominant, the second more coquettish and flighty.
The narrative defies description, but that is one of its strengths. Are we in a genuine sanatorium, or a clinic of the mind, a world conjured up by two obsessive sisters to house their desires? Audiences will be left to mull over these and many more questions at the end of this extraordinary work. Resonating with memories of Jean Genet's The Maids or the work of David Lynch, The Man I Cure pulls back the surface of the sensory world to tap into something altogether more thought-provoking and disturbing, whilst at the same time managing to be great entertainment.
Robbie Carnegie
