I had an inkling that The Dick and The Rose was going to be something special when I was handed a silver poker chip in lieu of a ticket at the box office. The motives behind this playful subversion were never revealed, although it made me excited about what was to come. My hopes for theatrical inventiveness set up by the poker chip were not dashed. Outcast Cafe Theatrix is the appellation under which this talented troupe of entertainers create, and this year fringe-goers are in the lucky position of being able to witness the first fruits of their collective labour. And while it may not be to everyone's taste, I found this bittersweet exploration of partnership and parenthood to be impressively exuberant, soulful and very much worth seeing. The story of The Dick and The Rose is disclosed to the audience mostly through media other than spoken word. Burlesque, mime, puppetry, animal impersonations, song and various instruments (including a pivotal tuba) are all cobbled together to create a rich patchwork of performance. Reflecting the eclecticism of the show, a giant tent made out of many strips of cloth that covers most of the stage is the play's only instance of set design. Used in a multipurpose fashion to great effect, the cloth is made to represent many forms of love and domesticity; it is a maze in which two lovers play hide and seek, a couple's sanctuary, a creche, a mother's skirt, a family home, and later on a place of captivity and neglect. Despite the fairytale feel of the piece, The Dick and The Rose confronts some grim realities. The audience is lured into a false sense of security with the childhood familiarities of yapping puppets, slapstick humour and cheerful song, making it more disturbing when elements of adult humour and heavy themes are introduced. The centrality of a giant phallus, an elongated tube ending in a glove, which perennially snakes in and around the tent, is at once absurdly comical and quite sexually sinister. The Brechtian alienation of this 'cautionary tale' is emphasised by house lights frequently coming up to take the audience out of the action, adding to feelings of unease.This piece is not completely without fault; at times the puppets become grating with their shrill Muppets-inspired shtick, and without wanting to spoil anything, there isn't much of a satisfactory ending. Overall though this is a beautifully surreal and thought-provoking fantasy, which is triumphant in the director Robert Biggs' aim to 'pluck the taut string between darkness and light, hope and despair, order and chaos'.
