Edinburgh’s Festivities (probably) won’t descend into street fighting and anarchy in 2009

As the hordes of thespians, stand-ups and literati leave Edinburgh after another year of Festivities, it is worth considering how much longer it would take for the sweltering melting pot of street theatre, overacting and comedy to boil over into something more sinister. I’d say give it another week and see what happens. With the advent of Global Warming (not the musical) and increasingly massive queues outside McStarbucks for Lattes and Frappacomacheinos, business types would quickly become impatient. ‘Yes Quentin…I’m just…Yes I know it’s due by 4.30…’ Soon amongst the scrums of Japanese tourists, armed with machine gun sized cameras, and hot panted helots stuffing leaflets into innocent hands, the harassed yuppies would snap. Blackberries would be raised and fighting commenced – skinny lemon muffins and hot froth soon drenching the mêlée of caffeine addicts.

Prospects of the Festivals being on the brink of anarchy aside, the month of August in Edinburgh is rightly considered one of the brightest and best sources of culture and entertainment in the world. This is interesting considering the Scottish tendency toward dourness, darkness and rain. However each summer Edinburgh’s alter-ego duly emerges - like some Fort William sheep farmer crawling from his hibernation, charged on happy pills - and greets the neighbours from Englandshire and the colonies. As Edinburgh holds the biggest arts festival in the world it is no surprise that there is a show/exhibition/pub for all tastes, however refined or bizarre. My reviewing adventures took me to some excellent theatre (Scaramouche Jones, Dybbuk), a blood soaked circus (Jim Rose Circus) an astonishing feat of technical wizardry (Mortal Engine) and an art exhibition containing both Russian religion and Vietnamese Propaganda. Musicals also offered us a veritable heap of titles: Apocalypse: The Musical, Big Bruva: The Musical, The Butler Did It? The Musical, The Great American Trailer Park Musical, Plague!: The Musical, Tony! The Blair Musical! all highlighting the continued seriousness with which we take this medium. Certainly few other cities can offer such a variety of diversions for budding tourists.

Primarily Edinburgh is famous for its comedy and to honour this fact, a statue of the cheerful professor of comedy at Edinburgh University from 1763 – 1776, Adam Smith, suitably watches over the Royal Mile. Yet many venues are no bigger than pieces of freight (Nick Doody), some little more than cellars (Luke Toulson) and one I visited was actually in a cave (Lewis Schaffer.) Thankfully from these often inhumane conditions springs forth hot jets of comedy talent – just remember to take a map, supplies and possibly a flare. This year’s triumphant stand-up, David O'Doherty, took the £8,000 top prize in the Intelligent Finance Comedy Awards for his blend of Irish charm and wit. Leo Benedictus of the Guardian gushed that ‘when a standup gig goes this well, you do get a sense of how religions are started.’ Perhaps he too deserves a statue where humble Edinburghers can worship?

‘High’ culture is covered by the International Festival, various art exhibitions at the National Galleries and men on stilts on the Royal Mile. This year saw the premier of Bourne’s Dorian Grey at the King’s Theatre, adapting Oscar Wilde’s tale, and transporting it into a modern celebrity obsessed world. Mortal Engine gave us a very different dance performance, bombarding the senses with an astonishing dystopian themed performance. Mortal Engine should also be commended for not only gassing the first ten rows of the audience, but also blinding and deafening them. Very Orwellian!

The National Galleries of Scotland, as consistent in their output as ever, presented an excellent selection of divergent exhibitions. Tracy Emin sexed up the Modern Art Gallery, while Monet et al soothed our eyes at the Royal Academy and Nicole Kidman seduced at the Portrait. Classical music was also in abundance, ranging from Purcell and Mozart at St Mary’s church to Gershwin and Bernstein at Greyfriars.

Despite this broad horizon of culture, the Fringe suffered a set back this year when ticket sales slumped around 10 percent from last year. Everything from Olympic fever to the credit crunch being blamed, the director duly fell on his sword. Yet sales for both International and the Book festivals rose from the previous year, so we may be premature in crying ‘we’re a’ doomed.’ Musselburgh and North Berwick have also decided to get in on the act(s) by creating their own festivals. Art, comedy and music are all included, and these should offer a less hectic alternative to the hustle and bustle of Edinburgh in August.

Set backs aside, there seems little chance the Edinburgh Festivals will degenerate into street fighting and chaos next year. This is, at least partly, due to the fact that Edinburgh exists in a state of anarchy throughout August anyway. The Fringe remains as excitable and frenzied as ever, and is still very prone to spilling its contents onto the Royal Mile, often resulting in gangs of actors prancing around and ambushing unsuspecting passers by. Even the semi-respectful academic of the festivals, the International Book Festival, quickly begins to take of an ‘eccentric’ quality of its own; famous authors quickly understanding the meaning (and smell) of Georgian disregard for proper drainage. Yet in what other city during the summer can one walk down a street bursting at the seams with opera singers (in corsets, no less), ballet, string quartets, and theatre (as well as a castle and a seat of government?) Where else can I have Beethoven for breakfast and gobble up Cannibal! The Musical for dinner? Edinburgh during the Festivals is as charged and fanatical about producing world class entertainment as it ever was.

See you next year.