Arabian Nights is humorous and sensitive, Lyceum Edinburgh, review
The Lyceum's Christmas show, a new version of the famous Arabian Nights written by Suhayla El-Bushra, reminds us that Britain is far from alone in its tradition of toilet humour. The play opens with two talking dogs (represented by puppets), one of whom, Abu Hassan (aka "Stink Bomb"), breaks wind prodigiously throughout the show.
The creature was once, we discover, an ageing, widowed merchant who shamed himself through flatulence on the day of his wedding to a young bride. Unable to escape his ignominy, the mortified merchant eventually threw himself on the mercy of a sorcerer who turned him into a dog.
This canine twist is El-Bushra's, but the tale of Abu Hassan itself belongs to the great, centuries-old collection of folk tales known as The One Thousand and One Nights. The dogs are just one of a number of innovations that El-Bushra has introduced to repackage the sometimes gruesome stories of The Arabian Nights for a family audience.
Here, for example, Scheherazade spins her tales for the feared Sultan, not to prevent her execution (as has happened to a procession of deflowered virgins before her), but in an effort to free her storyteller mother from the malicious monarch's prison. The Sultan himself is not a misogynistic serial killer spurred on by the infidelity of his wife, but a bereft man who, in his sadness, has turned his face against stories.
Moving from the market place to the palace and back again, director Joe Douglas's fleet-footed production enjoys lovely and ingenious design by Francis O'Connor. The multitudinous cast of Scheherazade's tales emerges from behind splendid, hanging carpets. The Sultan's opulent bed is turned, in a moment, into a fisherman's boat.
The liveliness of the narration and re-enactments is matched by composer Tarek Merchant's eclectic musical score, which veers from Arabic folk influences to a kazoo and ukulele number straight from the British music hall tradition. Fine though much of the music is, some of the narrative songs are sung so quickly as to be largely inaudible.
The show is led impressively by Rehanna MacDonald, who is a captivating, humorous and sympathetic Scheherazade. Nicholas Karimi's humanised Sultan (who goes to bed with his favourite teddy bear) shines in the midst of a fine cast, as does the accomplished performer Tim Licata as Abu Hassan (and various other characters).
Until January 6. Details: lyceum.org.uk