Marrow

Friday 5th August

★★★★★

The Edinburgh Fringe (part of the Edinburgh International Festival) in Scotland is one of the biggest celebrations of the arts that takes place every August (with the exception of 2020, and a scaled back version in 2021 due to the ongoing pandemic).

The festival attracts thousands of tourists from all over the globe and the city becomes a melting pot of different cultures and people. It is a gorgeous event where humans can find common interests and the good in the world shines brightest.

For a local like myself, I always try to attend a few shows and events each year. Admittedly, it can be a mixed bag, but taking a chance on smaller or more unique shows can often turn out to be life-changing. This is no more apparent than when my husband and I went to our first show of the festival - 'Marrow'.

The Edinburgh Fringe Website describes the show as follows:

"'I'm a f****t. So what?' Forced within the confines of his fabulous mind, a queer artist takes a euphoric journey to heal. Beautiful, funny, sensual, alive and batsh*t crazy. This is the only way he knows."

and:

"Recovering from a vicious hate-inspired physical beating, a gay artist takes a euphoric journey through his memories, as he tries to reassemble his shattered body and mind, in a work that is beautiful, visceral, sensual, blazingly honest and darkly humorous."

The one-man play was written by esteemed writer Brian Quirk, and directed beautifully by Melissa Firlit.

The writing is modern - a welcome relief from the largely overdone 80's 'gay-bashing' genre that, while conveying an important message, suggests that by the present decade the work for gay rights is over. Quirk writes quickly, almost frantically in a way that submerges the viewer deep into the lows of the depression felt by the comatose victim; his memories slowly returning, right through to his family members and friends.

Each word feels carefully chosen and necessary. The writing is poetic and finds a way to evoke the strongest of various emotions. Refreshingly honest and relatable, I found myself laughing to almost crying in the same breath.

The shining star of the show is Craig Macarthur Dolezel; an artist and instructor based in New York City who delivers 'Marrow' with the care, attention and nourishment that the play deserves.

Admittedly, I was nervous - this play being the second only one-person play I had seen since a rather tired production of Macbeth in High School that would go on to produce this nervousness. The venue - the Assembly Rooms 'Front Room' a 74-maximum capacity enclosed space over three tiers - where my nerves began to grow as I watched Mr Macarthur Dolezel warm up on the small stage at my feet - turned out to be the intimate space the show deserves.

Macarthur Dolezel quickly grabs the attention of the audience with the professionalism and precision that can often be absent from quieter off-piste productions. The nerves I had quickly spiked during the start of the play - lights black, music loud, and the brutal words of the attacker bouncing off each wall - but subsided quickly as the show began.

Craig's portrayal was both heart-wrenching and truthful. He slips from character to character seamlessly, but with quirks in each character that there was no doubt who each was. We are shown the memories as they slowly float back into his mind; from his youth as a dancer, to meeting his future husband - and the audience can see these, clear in our minds as if these were actually being acted out in front of us rather than narrated.

The production is immense. Craig - the light beaming out and drawing us in - is incredible, and his ability to use Quirk's amazing writing and turn this into a devastating but hopeful performance is mesmerising; a luxury reserved for the few.

There is a part near the end I wasn't in love with - and I can't say what this is without ruining the message of the show - but, if you have seen the show or plan to see it, you will know which part I mean. By this point in the show I had been on a rollercoaster of emotions and was ultimately startled by when the actor appeared to not be able to continue. I - given the opportunity to contribute - gave a horrible, anxiety-induced answer that fills me with cringe and will keep my awake at night (and frankly wasn't even true!). Although that is my own problem, and nothing to do with the production, it did mean I was so consumed by embarassment that I couldn't properly enjoy what was a very meaningful and important conclusion - the message of the show being revealed (and why this ending was so necessary - and, had I not contributed - been the perfect end to summise the previous 40 minutes).

When we left, my husband and I walked away silently, unable to speak while processing the raw emotion the play had left us with.

I can't say too much about the play without ruining the plot. But the acting, writing, and production are so immense and incredible that these alone are worth visiting George Street, Edinburgh for and I cannot recommend this show highly enough. Without the embarassment I felt, I would be back to see this show again and again while I had the chance to during it's run at the Fringe.

Devestatingly beautiful, deeply impactful and a reminder to hold on tightly to the present, 'Marrow' is without doubt within the top 1% of theatre you might ever be able to have the honour of witnessing.

Additionally, 'Marrow' tackles the issue of hate-crimes, particularly those aimed at the LGBTQIA+ community in a modern way that proves all too true in the current political and social landscape. It begs the question why this happens? It is evocative beyond it's size, and one of the truer, relevant and most realistic adaptations of my current experiences as a member of this all-too-often criticised and beaten part of the population.

My thanks to everyone who made this show possible, and managed to change my life and perspective in under an hour.