One-on-One Festival (part deux): Ontroerend Goed leave the best until last

*** Edit, February 2011 - if you're thinking about going to the 2011 One-on-One Festival, you might not want to read this, because it's a little bit spoilerish. Suffice to say that the essential shows I saw last time, and which are coming back, are the two Ontroerend Goed shows ("Internal" and "A Game of You"), "Rotating in a Room of Images" and "Rendez-Vous", all of which are outstanding ***

What a week this has been. The emotional rollercoaster of seeing the One-On-One Festival on Sunday (read that review before this one if you haven't already), the horror of Carmen Funebre, then last night a trip back to BAC to further the experiences of the other day. With it, I was hoping for some sort of closure. Closure I got.

Throughout, the key element is you the audience member; so much depends on your ability to cast yourself loose on the waves and allow yourself to be taken over by the performance, to slip into character as required. You need to be able to let your imagination run away with you pretty quickly, too: most performances are over in a matter of minutes. Those whose lack of imagination boxes them in are unlikely to benefit. In virtually every show, I came out wondering what would have happened if I had done things differently. 

A Game Of You (Ontroerend Goed) *****

After the frustration of the two previous shows, the musings, wondering "what if I had said something else?", wondering if the performances were unique to me, feeling self-centred and infuriatingly full of self-doubt, I was a little nervous before seeing A Game Of You. I purposely avoided any reviews or previews; my experience of Internal was slightly dampened by the fact I had a fair suspicion of what was to follow (not that I didn't fall into the trap). This turned out to be the key.

As a result, I won't say much about the content - there's no need for spoilers. Suffice to say that as with the other parts of the trilogy, you are played for a fool the whole way along; I walked out with a huge, imbecile grin on my face as I realised how I had been used as a plaything for half an hour. But as the company seem at pains to point out, this is a gentle piece. They have a lot of fun at your expense, but it's light teasing, not cruelty. Events move fast - you end up evaluating yourself in many different ways. A microcosm of the whole festival, you the audience equals you the performer and by placing yourself at the centre of attention, you will learn some things that perhaps you rather wouldn't.

I found out that my name is Steven, I am an artist, and I look like I spilled my dinner down my t-shirt. Tough times.

And yet seeing A Game Of You, as well as a long conversation with somebody else who'd been at Internal, confirmed something that I'd already wondered about: the Ontroerend Goed performers - barely older than me - are the masters of making you a pawn in their world, chewing you up, spitting you out, throwing you around for a while and then dumping you. They have a frighteningly powerful influence over people - shades of The Manchurian Candidate. They would be dangerous tyrants. But they aren't, they'er just frighteningly talented artists, and in the Smile Off Your Face-Internal-A Game Of You trilogy, they've created one of the top five artistic experiences I've ever had in my life.

And the feeling of being manipulated, that I had been a sucker all along, slowly gave way from one of intense self-pity to one of relief, and I started to laugh.

"He hath been most notoriously abus'd" - Olivia, Twelfth Night

2 Free (Ansuman Biswas) ****

Half an hour of breaking personal boundaries and entering situations which you would never wish to be in. Armed with a sand timer and a lantern, the participant explores a space where only by crossing the discomfort line can you experience the next stage of the show. In contrast to Ontroerend Goed, here you are on your own; there is no twist, nobody to laugh at you (which is just as well). This is about testing your own personal limits. What was it Eleanor Roosevelt said? "Do one thing every day that scares you." I let my imagination run riot. The figure in front of me - why was he there? What was his purpose? What did he need from me? How long had he been there? What should I do?

It was a deeply unsettling experience throughout, but I was proud to have overcome my doubts and inhibitions and proved my strength. The opportunity to test your inner mettle in a private half hour where nobody will judge you but yourself, is very enlightening.

Oh, and a tip: don't start emptying out the bag. You won't be popular!

Headlines (Ampersand) ****

Short and sharp. Swept off my feet and thrown into character in seconds, I had to respond instantly, and made a decent fist of it. It's a simple principle: you're thrown into an improv situation with no time to react. Again, nobody is watching except yourself, so there is nobody to judge you. Each day is a unique show; I was Ken Clarke's junior minister for the day, having to justify Clarke's statement that prison sentences should be scrapped for minor crimes. Again, as with so many shows, mental dexterity is required on the part of the participant. A bit of me wishes I had got irate and told my constituent to "fuck off and die". Ah well, next time.

I also played a minor role in a performance of The Fifteen Minute Relationship, and went Through The Wardrobe a second time; I found myself surprised to enjoy it more second time round.

------------------------

Over the last few days I have faced my own death and realised what a miserable life I've led, fallen in false love, gone through a portal to the past, gone into a dressing-up Narnia, been "notoriously abus'd" by Belgian geniuses, battled through intense discomfort, had a karaoke moment with a serving soldier, judged and been judged, laughed, cried, appreciated the inner beauty of something raw and functional, and generally seen myself from more different angles than I could possibly imagine. As others have said, as individual pieces, some were more self-contained and complete than others. But the whole festival hangs together brilliantly; let's hope it's not the last. Most importantly: damn, it was a lot of fun.

15 years on, Carmen Funebre is just as terrifying

Carmen Funebre (Teatr Biuro Podrozy; National Theatre) *****


I saw Carmen Funebre in 1995 in a school playground as part of the Edinburgh Festival. I was twelve at the time and it made a huge impression on me; dark, robed, hooded figures appearing out of nowhere at lightning speed with fire and whips, like demons. They were menacing and I've had vivid images of them ever since. But much of what the work was about was lost on me, and with the exception of those demons, which were burned onto my retinas, the memories were starting to fade.

Fifteen years later, the show, from Polish group Biuro Podrozy, is still a hit worldwide and is back on these shores at the National Theatre. My attention was drawn by a tweet from the NT highlighting last night's "priceless preview" (ie pay what you think it's worth) and at the very last minute, I shovelled down some food, grabbed my girlfriend and hurried down to Waterloo. It was a real impromptu trip. Would it be worth seeing again?

Subtle it ain't. While the events it's based on - the atrocities in Bosnia in the nineties - may not be foremost in people's minds in this country any longer, the horrors portrayed are universal. The ten-foot hooded demons scoured the audience and plucked out their victims, who were summarily beaten and gang-raped - the defiling of a woman superbly intimated by means of the contents of a bottle of wine. Refugees attempted to create normal lives for themselves and were soon harassed by the soldiers. The wounded dragged their way around the set, rattling coins in tins, seeking succour from the audience. There was none. The figure of Death prowled around the surrounding horrors, forking the flaccid imagery of the dead for the peasants to burn. Thunderous strings alternated with a cheerful accordion.

It's a universal commentary - although no comment is required; the images are simple and brutal. Having seen Carmen Funebre more than half my life ago, I can say that it's just as terrifying as an adult. But it resonates even more.

More Edinburgh Festival 2010 tips

A few more shows that have come to my attention over the last couple of weeks in the 2010 Fringe:

Metamorphosis (Belt Up) - C Soco

Beautiful Burnout (Frantic Assembly/National Theatre of Scotland) - Pleasance

Roadkill - Traverse

Freefall (Corn Exchange Theatre Co) - Traverse

Cirque de Legume - Gilded Balloon

I've only seen one Frantic Assembly production (Stockholm) which was excellent, and have meant to see other things; reviews are consistently good. Meanwhile, Aurora Nova may be no more, but Wolfgang Hoffman started up Aurora Nova Productions in 2009. They are producing Cirque de Legume; if it's good enough for Hoffman, it's good enough for me.

I know I mentioned other shows previously, but just so I can see them in one handy place, these are the other things that appeal to me:

Sub Rosa - Remarkable Arts

Ballet Work No 1020 - Traverse

Jack the Knife - Assembly

Teenage Riot (Ontroerend Goed) - Traverse

Decky Does A Bronco (Grid Iron) - Traverse

En Route - Traverse

The Girl in the yellow Dress - Traverse

Apple - Traverse

no child - assembly

Tripod vs The Dragon - Assembly

Pajama Men - Assembly

Camille O'Sullivan - Assembly

I'll keep adding to that list as I hear about things. Wallet constraints mean that I'll need to be selective, unfortunately! If anyone hears of any freebies/cheapies (not likely, given that I won't be up until the 21st), then let me know...x

PS I still have to take issue with prices. Almost everything is more expensive than in London; this should not be.

One On One Festival (BAC) - mindblowing

*** Edit, February 2011 - if you're thinking about going to the 2011 One-on-One Festival, you might not want to read this, because it's a little bit spoilerish. Suffice to say that the essential shows I saw last time, and which are coming back, are the two Ontroerend Goed shows ("Internal" and "A Game of You"), "Rotating in a Room of Images" and "Rendez-Vous", all of which are outstanding ***

For the umpteenth time I scurried up the stairs to the Yellow block and chattered senselessly at the staff about how I'd been looking forward to this for WEEKS and how excited I was and how the show 'd just seen was nuts and how you've got to...they indulged me patiently. A fair few people seemed as wired as I was. Two years in the making, the One on One Festival is a mammoth project that the Battersea Arts Centre have put together, and confirms for me why it's the most exciting venue in London. A series of loosely related projects, exhibits, installations and performances all based around the concept of a one-person audience: a show created especially for you. I sensed that this might be an opportunity to throw off the shackles and let myself go. I wasn't disappointed. While the real reason I was there was to see my heroes, Belgian geniuses Ontroerend Goed (and I'm about to shell out another £22.50 to see their other show, along with whatever else I missed) but the rest was an unknown quantity. I was not disappointed.

Every inch of the space is used, including all the foyer and bar areas. More than anywhere else in London, it reminded me of being in Edinburgh during in Festival time. Every other person seemed to be either BAC staff, volunteers or a performer. The staff were all great banter, especially the box office girls who had a hellishly complicated system to navigate and still seemed pretty chipper, happy to help greedy people like me who wanted to see show after show, on top of our paid-for allocation. It seemed a shame to be a mere paying punter - as usual in these festival situations, I felt a little wistful that my career path has taken an infinitely less interesting turn.

As for the shows: you just need to relax, let yourself get into the spirit of things and they range from sweet to extraordinary. A fabulous project from BAC - start preparing for another one in two years' time please. Every bit as I expected. And then some. Go, quick. I'm on the phone to the box office to get my second ticket as I type.

Other reviews worth reading here:
Matt Boothman
What's On Stage

Through the wardrobe (Breathe) ***

My first encounter of the evening. The greatest thrill came at the start: to be sat in the dark, armed only with a failing torch, and faced with a knee-high door bearing the placard "Enter when you hear the knock." The adrenaline rushed as I waited for the knock. Once inside, it was tmie to explore, to choose, and to dress. It was a charming encounter - tempered only by the fact that it felt rather hurried when I would have been happy to stay longer.

The Soldier's Song (Quarantine) ***

I think I went into the karaoke shack with the wrong state of mind. I belted out "Please Release Me" with nobody but an army sergeant for company. It was a lot of fun, but I think I was too drained by the time I got to it to get myself up for anything more.

Drag Mountain (Thom Shaw) ***

Theatrically limp (perhaps I couldn't get properly into the "become an agent of gender resistance"?) but visually stunning: there is something truly regal about this drag queen. My creativity - not to mention knot-tying - was utterly embarrassing.

It's Your Film (Stan's Cafe) ***

The ultimate one-on-one experience: a film produced live, and exclusively for one person. Through a screen-sized peephole, two white-collar workers - or are they gangsters? - are on the hunt for someone. With Orson Wellesian cool, they smoke, sling their jackets over their shoulders, smoulder and pout. Will they find their quarry?

You me nothing (Franko B) ***

An ideal warmup to get you to "free your mind". It's an installation where you are the key element. What is there? Nothing. What can you do? Very little. I managed to work myself into an agitated state of mind where the most obvious thing that you would do with the key prop...I just couldn't bring myself to do it. When I finally forced myself to do it, I knew my time in the exhibit was over.

A little bit of a beautiful thing (Barnaby Stone) ****

This one only really grabbed me afterwards. A log which has been through the wars - perhaps literally. Once it had a life. Then it died, and had a new, functional life. Then it had a third life - for 400 years. Now, the log is retiring from active service - with one final adventure.

Barnaby Stone tells the story of the beaten up lump of wood. From the far end of the sanitary corridor (no, really) it seems like he is raping the log with tools: sanders, hammers, pegs. Only at the end can you appreciate just how this log's final journey is to become something of beauty and delicacy that you jsut could not imagine from looking at it.

One key element of being the only member of the audience is that the normal rules of behaviour can be broken. As a regular theatre-goer, it's my instinct to keep my trap shut throughout, applaud at the end and go on my merry way. When there are no other audience members to disturb, can those rules be broken? I found it difficult. As a result, in this show and others, I mainly sat in lumpen silence. I grabbed my present, muttered thanks and scuttled out. I wish I'd shown a bit more gratitude, both to Barnaby and all the other performers.

Talking of shows where you don't quite know how to behave...

Internal (Ontroerend Goed) ****


My head is full of questions.

In the summer of 2007, in a tiny room in Edinburgh, I allowed myself to be taken over by hands unseen, bound and blindfolded, put in a wheelchair, then controlled, manipulated and manhandled for a terrifying yet exhilarating twenty minutes that left me in tatters. The focal point of the evening was a moment on a bed. A voice whispered sweet nothings in my ear in the blackness. It was the first time in what seemed ages that I had contact with a real human being. The voice asked me what I thought. I said that at that moment in time, she was my only friend.

Should I be doing this?

Fast forward three years. I am sitting in a private booth sharing a table - and some vodka - with a stunning girl whose eyes punctured my defences from six inches away. I was mesmerised. I babbled about idioms and dams for a while. I told her about the moment on the bed.

If we weren't in a performance, would we...

"That was me."

Isn't she a great actor. I'm supposed to think these thoughts, aren't I?

I nearly keeled over. That voice had stuck with me all that time, haunted me. And now here she is holding my hand.

In another life, would I...

Ontroerend Goed are masters of finding your weak points. Within minutes, she knew everything about me. In a flash our date was over and we were sharing our experiences in a group post-dating counselling session. No punches were pulled. Some uncomfortable truths came out. Questions were asked. Sophie looked at me again. "Did we click?"

Should I have kissed her properly?

The brilliance of this show is that if you can let yourself go, you'll be cast into a horrible illusion - no, delusion. You'll be elevated to a status you're utterly unworthy of, then become the plaything of a few young Belgians, and tossed away again. The delusion that you are something special is brilliantly executed. I believe professional prostitutes work in the same way. For just a moment, you wonder if the money you paid has anything to do with this. Questions that really shouldn't be asked start flashing across your mind.

What would my girlfriend...

The performers' ability to find your weaknesses and prey on them is uncanny and scary. The delusions are kept up until the end, leaving a disturbing aftertaste. Watching the video trailer afterwards gives a hint. The performers pierce the camera with their eyes and explain why they are searching. Only at the end, a voice off-camera shouts "because you're a slut" and the actor dissolves into giggles. The spell is broken; the session with the prostitute is over and it's time to hand over the cash, before she goes in search of a new punter. Next morning, I was reminded of a song which I played over and over on my way to work: Irene Kral - Is It Over Baby? "Once you told me that our love would never die...now I have to wonder if it all was just a lie...Is it over baby? Have you got a date with someone new?"

Am I falling in love with her? (That one's easy. Yes - three times over).

I'll be back for part three of the trilogy , "A Game Of You" this week. Incidentally, I wonder if Ontroerend's latest show, "Teenage Riot" will make it to BAC - if so, I bet it'll be cheaper than the £19 the Traverse are charging in Edinburgh.

Sophie.

Rotating in a room of images (Lundahl & Seitl) *****

By a distance, the most polished and sophisticated show that I saw at the festival, and pound-for-pound, my favourite of the whole lot. Rotating in a room of images is a full-on sensual experience. It's also downright creepy - shades of horror films, but the best comparison for me would be Lucy M Boston's books about The Children of Green Knowe. In complete darkness, with all sounds blacked out, a child's voice in my head. Imploring, commanding, reassuring. I found myself taking steps through the void. The voice is at once in front and behind, above, below, it is all around. "I am here with you." A hand guides you, leading, cajoling. You are in The Room. Now there is a screen. I see myself projected. There are footsteps behind me. Multiple footsteps. "We are behind you." I spin around. Nothing. I spin back in front. Ghostly figures from another era are with me on the screen. are they my ancestors? Who have I got mixed up with? Where am I? When am I? The ride is not finished. There is a glimpse of another world. Just a glimpse - tantalising but spinetingling. Then a shaft of light and a door leading to the 2D world. Rotating in a room of images is a extraordinary, mind-altering experience - let yourself go and allow yourself to be taken through time and space to somewhere forgotten. Lundahl & Seitl are the closest I've come to another Ontroerend Goed moment - that's a compliment of the highest order. Creepy, exhilarating, magnificent.

Rendez-Vous (Villanella/Hanneke Paauwe) *****

You may confront your greatest fear in this show. I thought my greatest fear was electric shocks (Ray Lee's "Electric" was off-limits for me). I went into Rendez-Vous and was presented with the prospect of my own death. "This is the end of the journey."

I had still not faced my greatest fear.

A figure in white, reassuring words, a welcoming smile. This isn't so bad after all. I know exactly how I'll leave this world, by the way; the strings will fade away at the end of the Adagietto of Mahler's Fifth Symphony, and at the precise moment where I cease to exist, the pure horn note at the start of the final movement will sound. I know this will happen. If I get invited to heaven, then it'll be here (hence my prattling to Sophie about damming up streams). Maybe Hanneke will be there to greet me. But then, a life's retrospective.

I faced questions about what I'd achieved. What I had done. Who had I influenced. Who had I changed. Whose lives had I made better. Had I done everything I set out to do. Would people cry for me. Would anyone remember me.

Are you afraid of death?

I was facing my greatest fear. Not of death, not even of being forgotten - although that was pretty painful. My own answers to the questions did not make for a comfortable analysis. Worst of all: I have done nothing to be proud of. I need to rectify this, do something to be proud of, change somebody's life. But I am about to die. It is too late.

Suddenly, I was in pieces. My imbecile grin as I left, and casual "Yeah, it was wicked" to the ushers, managed to stifle the tears.

I didn't open the envelope until I was nearly home. Kidney punch. But at least a reminder that I've still got time. This is how it ends...

Ontroerend Goed - The Smile Off Your Face (review from Edinburgh Festival 2007)

I actually wrote the following review of Ontroerend Goed's The Smile Off Your Face three years ago, when I saw it in Edinburgh, at C Venues, as part of the Edinburgh Festival. If I'd written it today, I'd probably have written it slightly differently; as it is, I've left it untouched. I only posted it to my Facebook at the time, though; time it got a more public airing, particularly as it's pertinent to another review I'm about to write. Looking back over it, this contains spoilers; the edited version says "Just buy a ticket".

Quite simply the most surreal, most sensual, most utterly extraordinary 20 minutes of my entire life. I read the first couple of sentences of a review, realised that I needed to literally RUN to buy a ticket that day and did without bothering to read the rest of the review. The premise is simple: you are blindfolded and bound to a wheelchair and...things happen. The audience capacity is exactly one, so I sat in the waiting room with a slight feeling of trepidation which, as previous 'victims' came out in floods of tears, was mixed with nervous excitement. (The show isn't playing any more in the UK as far as I know but I'm about to spoil it so you might want to look away if you think you might hunt them down...which you SHOULD). Anyhow.

Blindfolded and with my hands bound, I was sat in a wheelchair and wheeled through a curtain into the unknown. For the next 20 minutes I was subjected to the complete range of sensual experiences and invasions of privacy. Faint music sounded from all directions. The a clock ticked just beside my right ear, then my left. Sudenly I was aware of the feeling of warmth, followed by the smell of cinamon just under my nose as I was wheled round. Apart from the faint ticking and music, there was no sound - it was impossible to tell if there was one person beside me or ten - or any at all. Sudenly I flinched violently; the unmisakeable sound of a cigarette lighter being lit beside my face. Not a pleasant experience when you're so vulnerable and my emotions were dominated by fear and paranoia at this point. Then I was encouraged to stand up and I felt a pair of hands touching my face, exploring me, feeling my shape. My hands were led to explore the other person's face. Who were they? was it someone blindfolded like me? Was it an actor? Or was it someone who was genuinely blind? I realised that I would leave the theatre with a lot of questions either answered or unanswered. Then another figure led me in a dance. I was sat down once again in the relative comfort and safety of the wheelchair. Or so I thought.

Suddenly I was violently thrown backwards - the wheelchair had no back. A girl was lying on top of me, arms around me, nuzzling me, dominating. Erotic? Hmmmmm. Alarming? Most definitely. She began a whispered conversation in my ear. Personal, yet abstract questions; every one of them seemed so profound I had to pause each time to come up with an answer that seemed inadequate in the circumstances, each time. Then she was gone as quickly as she'd arrived. As the first time anyone had spoken to me in the whole process, I was astonished at how quickly she had become my only friend and I felt lonely once again at her departure.

One disconcerting aspect was that it was impossible to work out how far I had been wheeled - it felt like a long ghost train. Soon another girl was talking to me, a new conversation, and once again I had to place my complete faith in her as she fed me various flavours. Then she said 'now I want you to see me' and for a second the blindfold was lifted to reveal a girl sitting, goddess-like, on a golden throne in a blaze of light, dressed entirely as Father Christmas.

Finally, feeling exhusted, came the climax. A young man spoke to me and took the blindfold off. He was sat staring into my face, about 6 inches from my visage, with electric blue eyes. Slowly he asked me to explain my experiences in a sort of 'debrief'. Then he asked me to give me the widest smile I had ever managed, and hold it. His own face gave me a strange, distant smile. I beamed at him enthusiastically. We stared into each others eyes, until I realised that there were tears rolling down his face. Slowly I was wheeled back through the arena - it turned out the whole thing had taken place in a tiny room.

Astonishing. I left exhausted and with my emotions in complete turmoil.


Click here for more Ontroerend Goed reviews.

The Misanthrope - review

The Misanthrope, Comedy Theatre ****

Damian Lewis is excellent as protaganist and main character Alceste: at once ebullient, volatile, believeable and human and has terrific stage presence as well as good comic timing. His main sparring partners are Dominic Rowan, who plays friend John squarely and confidently without attracting too much attention to himself, and Keira Knightley as American movie star Jennifer. Knightley is convincing as the vacuous diva and manages to keep her friends strung up for the entire play until the bombshells are dropped towards the end. It's a part that could easily be turned into a hammed-up mess but Knightley manages to be irritating for the right reasons and is a good foil for Lewis.

The production stays true to the stage directions with a lush drawing room setting. Best of all is a red-hot script by Martin Crimp, which updates the Moliere original and puts it in a 21st century celeb-paparazzi setting. With a loosely rhyming script, which keeps its rhythm throughout and adds bite to the humour, it's a terrific piece of writing. Overall, a very enjoyable show.

Heaven is a place on Inchydoney beach

When I was about eleven I had a little daydream that if I died and by some miracle got an invite upstairs, that I'd be told I could do one thing of my choice for all eternity, but one thing only. I had a good long think and concluded that my idea of heaven would be a sandy, muddy beach, with loads of streams running down to the sea, and I would dam them up and create interesting new watercourses for the trickles.

Sixteen years later, I had the same daydream, and came to the same conclusion.

West Cork is the best place in the world. When I was small we were out there three times a year; this summer I went there for the first time in ages. Memories came flooding back. There's still a chap van on the Bandon road, by the river a few miles past Inishannon, although I'm not sure if it's the same bloke who we used to religously buy chips from every time we were out there (I barely ate chips outside West Cork until I got to secondary school). The beaches, the bad roads, the tractors, still there.

There's actually very little to do; just beaches, views, roads, pubs and calmness. The heat and rain mean that the landscape is incredibly lush. Taking an early morning walk down into Unionhall harbour, wandering through piles of trawler nets and rope, looking down the bay at the Teflon-smooth sea with a glimpse of the open Atlantic, with only the odd leap of a grey mullet or pollack creating a ripple: life really doesn't get any better.

But the memories of childhood, my entire family at their happiest driving into Skibbereen for a drink, a quiet day on the beach at Glengarriff, visiting relatives...those old memories came back again and again. Although I've never lived there, for me it really felt as if I was coming home. And that was the best feeling of all - I felt a pride in where I came from.

I would have died happy. West Cork is truly the best place in the world. Life doesn't get any better.

policing and social media

I wrote a piece on the SML blog today about ways in which police forces are using, and can use, social media. Until I dug around today I wasn't aware quite how much some of the forces are using various forms of social media. The Met (surprise surprise!) is lagging way behind some of the county forces.

A couple of further points I meant to mention: firstly, police forces could learn a lot from some of the better customer service case studies, like EasyJet's use of Twitter. That said, given the volume of wind-up and malicious communications which can be made via social media, care should be given to spending vast resources responding to anonymous communications and criticisms.

Care must be given to who is given access to official social media streams, and how it is audited - police forces don't want a Vodafone incident.

Lauri Stevens (thanks for the retweet) is an expert on such issues Stateside and has written plenty of articles on the subject, including a terrific one here about the social media reaction to the recent G20 summit in Toronto. She makes several important points, which have given me a couple more thoughts.

There will always be huge volumes of social media conversations surrounding police activity, and most of them will be negative. From opinions at a micro level ("why didn't the police answer my call quicker?") to the macro ("police are terrorising innocent civilians" or simply "ACAB"-type posts), there will be thousands of rational and irrational opinions given every day. Police forces had better have a thick skin. The measurement/monitoring aspect of things can give a tangible metric of how opinions can be changed by a combination of communications and practical operational techniques changing. For example, an analysis of social media chatter around the May Day protests - where plenty of opinions are voiced about police - could be done one year, measuring volume and overall sentiment of conversations. This could be repeated the following year to give quantitative comparisons.

Lauri Stevens says "engagement is king", which is true in my opinion, and praised Toronto Police for communicating with "anyone and everyone who engaged them". This may be shooting themselves in the foot. ocial media is rife with hyperbole and hysteria; there will be many arguments which are unwinnable, simply because they are with people who are Always Right. The recent campaign by Greenpeace to bombard the Nestle Facebook page provides a case in point; police social media strategists might do well to take some tips from this article.

Finally, a word on a one-stop-shop case study: PC Ed Rogerson's Twitter page. No comment required; it's brilliant. Not sure how many officers would have the inclination do do likewise, and there should be some pretty strict regulations to ensure nobody goes off message (I am uncomfortable with officers updating their Facebook status via their phones whilst on duty) but Rogerson shows how it should be done.

Live update: as I watch the dramatic events unfold in Rothbury with, I must admit, a little bit of an excited schoolboy thrill, how about this for a use of social media. It was instantly retweeted extensively - I wonder if it was actually an effective way of getting their message to the media?

First Edinburgh Festival thoughts and BAC One on One festival

The Fringe programme launch is one of my most eagerly anticipated days of the year - although I'll be no clearer to actually knowing what to go and see.So far I've only had a chance to have a quick spin through the programmes of two of the main venues: Assembly, which is still close to my heart, and the Traverse.

Assembly present the usual safe mixture of mainstream dance/light entertainment fusion blockbusters, Guy Masterson productions and easy been-around-for-years-thus-bums-on-seats comics (Jason Byrne). It's a disappointingly familiar programme. Camille O'Sullivan, "downgraded" to the Assembly Rooms proper after a couple of years on the Mound, will be a highlight (I'm now a full-fat fan). Other big guns wheeled out by Assembly include the Soweto Gospel Choir - nearly as inevitable as William Burdett-Coutts using the press launch to call on the Fringe and International Festival to merge. Taking up residence on the Mound are the brilliant Pajama Men with their unique show, one of the funniest things I've seen in years. Other shows I'll be keeping my eye on include No Child, Tripod Versus The Dragon and Jack the Knife.

Assembly are going to have some sort of tent in Princes Street Gardens which, if WBC has chosen well, could be the highlight of the festival. A quick look at the programme, however, and I'm not so sure: the insistence on programming granny-friendly "fusion" acts such as the Bala Brothers (described as "the latest singing sensations from South Africa...soaring harmonies...infuse opera sounds with popular African music." In other words, business as usual for Assembly. A daytime Best of the Fest is a great idea, and The Crack is likely to create the most word of mouth. Meanwhile something called Guilty Pleasures is already showing up as sold out on the Assembly website for the first few days, which I find hard to believe. Burlesque singer Meow Meow, who I very nearly booked tickets for at the Soho Theatre a few weeks ago, is another one to watch. Will it be the new Spiegeltent? Who knows, but fair play to assembly for taking on the mantle as it was an obvious hole that needed plugging, and putting it in Princes Street is a novel idea, despite being slightly less part of "Festivalville" than George Square.

I can't think about Assembly comedy without remembering Daniel Kitson at Best of the Fest in about 2003, when his voice when he teased Adam Hills about playing is safe at the Assembly Rooms was laden with deep scorn. The intimation was clear: Assembly is a venue deeply committed to playing things safe. Yet they inevitably end up with an unexpected gem or two - I'm sure the same will happen this year.

The Traverse programme is more heavyweight than ever: productions from the likes of the Royal Court, citizens and Birmingham Rep. Like Assembly, the Traverse have their favourites - Daniel Kitson returns with It's Always Right Now, Until Later, Druid put on another Enda Walsh play (Penelope) while Ontroerend Goed will be a short price to take awards for Teenage Riot which will presumably be some sort of natural sequel to the brilliant One and for all... One of the most promising shows is a dance production, Ballet Work No 1020 by Martin Creed - it sounds like a minimalist ballet production. Ever dependable Grid Iron showcase their Fringe First winning Decky Does A Bronco. To be honest, I would see any show blind at the Traverse, but others which look especially promising to me are En Route, The Girl in the Yellow Dress and Apple.

The main problem with the Traverse is the cost of the shows. Weekend performances are now £19 - I'd like to see virtually everything that's being put on, but can't afford to spend hundreds on a few plays. For a Londoner like me, the temptation is to wait until they come down to London; many Traverse hits will filter through at some point in the year following the Festival, to off-West End venues like the Tricycle, BAC, or Lyric...where the tickets will be barely half the price. Holding out is a risky strategy, as theere's no guarantee that any of the shows will make its way down - but historically, many of them do and I may take my chances on seeing most of them in London, if only for financial reasons. While I don't have a problem with the Traverse charging relatively high prices, it's a shame that there's no discount for multiple purchases. There will be many people who would be prepared to book tickets for several shows at once and some sort of "loyalty card" scheme would be a nice touch.

I'll only be in Edinburgh for the last week of the Fringe - note to self: stay on top of the reviews, the blogs, the rumours, the gossip, and get those tickets booked early for the must-see shows. Otherwise you'll just spend the time getting pissed in the Princes Street tent or sitting in the Traverse cafe.

Rather more pressing is the need to get tickets for the One On One festival at the Battersea Arts Centre which brings a whole host of shows exploring intimate theatre and the on-on-one performer-audience experience. Ontroerend Goed are the standout highlight - their The smile off your face is extraordinary and I still haven't seen Internal which is supposed to be similarly mindblowing. The ticketing concept is intriguing - a ticket buys you admission to three shows (out of over twenty) but due to scheduling requirements you don't have much choice in what you see other than one show of your choice. I hadn't heard of many of the companies and artists but pretty much everything looks right up my street and well worth a look. For me, this is what real modern theatre is about and I'll be like a kid in a sweet shop. Have a look at the programme here. My problem is that I have no idea how to go about choosing...I want to see them all...

***Update*** Review here.

Film roundup

I'm not going to bother with lengthy film reviews on this blog (if you want great film reviews let me plug my mate Ben's blog which is excellent). However, as much for my own records as much as anything, I'll throw a list of micro-reviews on from time to time. Here are a few films I've watched recently:

Four Lions (Chris Morris, 2010) *****
Believe it or not, this film isn't particularly dark, or even particularly satirical. But it's definitely a Chris Morris film.  It's basically a farce - the humour is borderline slapstick at times - but with some daft ideas and trippy moments. And it's about terrorists. Killer lines include "The Jews invented spark plugs so they could control global traffic, blud.". Don't worry about it being offensive; it's not. It's just funny.

Spartan (David Mamet, 2004) ****
I'm a huge David Mamet fan. From Oleanna (one of my all time favourite plays - even thinking about it gets me enraged, such is the power of the script) to Glengarry Glen Ross, virtually everything written by Mamet is tighter than a gnat's arse. The dialogue, or course, is charged with testosterone in typical Mamet style and with few wasted lines, although, unusually, one or two Hollywood teethgrinders slip through the net. However, lines like"Honey, you got all the slack in the world until I leave this room. Then I'm gonna zero you out" make up for it. Val Kilmer is hard as nails, with a good supporting cast, although little is made of William H Macy's character, which is a minor disappointment. Overall, however, it's a tough thriller which is very well put together, despite its rather conventional storyline, and well worth a watch.

Slumdog Millionaire (Danny Boyle, 2008) ****
I had been expecting some weird "somehow-brilliant-schmaltz-fest". Far from it: think City of God rather than Dreamgirls. Danny Boyle strikes gold again as Slumdog shows up the best and the worst of both India and human nature. "Feelgood" yes, but mainly because you feel good that you haven't wasted your money on some overhyped film. Strong.

Vera Drake (Mike Leigh, 2005) *****
This was my third experience of a Mike Leigh film which I went into with some trepidation: whilst I enjoyed Secrets & Lies, Happy-go-lucky was one of the biggest cinematic turds I've ever sat through in my life. This was a "make-or-break" for me. As it happens, I needn't have worried - it's a superb film. Unusually for films which revolve around a Terrible Secret, where the tension is relieved once the Secret gets out, Vera Drake only really kicks into action once Vera's backstreet-abortionist sideline is revealed. Tensions between family and friends are unbearable at times thereafter thanks to brilliant directions and acting, and the transformation of Vera (Imelda Staunton) from local Pillar to pariah is extraordinary - the portrayal of a woman's demise is exceptional.

Millward Brown's Nigel Hollis - The Global Brand: a review

The majority of books I've ever read on branding are mostly vacuous bullshit. Top of the pile for guff to substance ratio is possibly Kevin Roberts' Lovemarks, crammed full of nebulous, sweeping soundbites, whereas the only meaningful point in the entire book was summed up beautifully in a single "love/respect axis" graph. Most other books on branding that I've come across are written in a similar vein.

It's refreshing, therefore, that The Global Brand, by research giant Nigel Hollis of Millward Brown, is completely different: a rigorous study of branding concepts, similarities and differences between consumer behaviours globally, and the business and marketing strategies required to take advantage of these, in order to expand brands internationally.

I should point out that I am definitely not the target audience of this book, not being in charge of global marketing strategy for a major international brand! The book provides a very specific "brand promise" of how to expand a successful brand into the global market, but in reality the book covers concepts that are pretty universal to branding and marketing, making it a cracking read for anyone interested in the way fluctuations in consumer behaviour affect the performance of a brand or product.

Hollis takes a methodical approach from first principles from the start: starting by making an empirical definition of a brand (concluding that a brand is a macroscopic collection of perceptions of a product). Key to his ideas are principles of neuroscience - the way that the brain stores information, breaking it down into knowledge, actions and feelings critical to the way marketers can set up their brands. Hollis shows that consumers' balanced understanding of a brand is crucial to its success: consumer reactions or heuristics to physical cues, functional benefits, an the emotions the brand invokes, are all important features, and a successful brand is likely to be positioned in such a way that all those features strike a bond with the consumer. It seems to me that this holistic approach fits in with the trend for "360" marketing. Hollis says that brands are "clusters of associations" - and a successful brand must work equally hard to enhance the perceptions of all the advantages that brand can derive.

Consumer/brand relationships are dealt with in depth - whether it's the split second heuristics which can sway a customer from purchasing one product over another, to more deeply rooted loyalty. The Millward Brown Brand Pyramid defines the relationship as a sort of journey consisting of heuristics from the superficial (is the product available? Can I afford it?) to the more profound (being unique, or safe, or "for people like me"). The strongest bonds are forged when the consumer feels that there are tangible advantages to choosing that brand which overcome any shortcomings or competitors. If the aspects of a brand which create the strongest bonds could be neatly scooped up and taken across international markets, then global domination would soon ensue. Alas, it's not quite so simple as that.

Hollis goes on to show that a brand's future performance can be predicted by using two measures - existing brand presence, and a Millward Brown metric called Voltage 2.0, calculated using quantitative research, which is basically an indication of how strong the brand's perceived advantages are (I imagine a brand with high Voltage 2.0 would be very similar to Kevin Roberts' definition of a Lovemark). Combined, the two figures give a reasonably good forecast of the brand's likely future prospects; good brand equity is a good sign, but startup brands find it tough going as you might expect.

So far so good, and I found these early chapters amongst the most interesting of all. But the objective of the book is to explore how brands across multiple countries, and here Hollis states his core point, which is repeated throughout like an idee fixe: that successful global brands achieve a fine balancing act between adapting products and marketing strategies specifically to local markets, vs global economies of scale arising from centralising resources. Those that get the balance right, will become the great global brands which "transcend cultural origins" to strike affinity with consumers across countries. But it's a tricky balance to achieve. In developing markets, a western brand may or may not have associations of quality, which consumers may or may not be willing (or able) to pay a premium for. Yet in general consumers will feel more attached to brands which are perceived as local, even if their origins are the other side of the world.

Hollis stresses to brand owners the importance of considering how their brand can create a feeling of authenticity, of resonating with local values, and of integrating with local culture. Much of this, he argues, stems from management technique: indeed management is a microcosm of the book's theories as a whole - as a global company tussles with the advantages of centralising resources, with the local knowledge and motivation that comes with localising functions (I must confess I ploughed through this section full of visions f American films with the FBI telling the local sheriff "We'll take it from here.")

Hollis cites the example of Efes lager, which has such a strong local identity in its homeland (Turkey) that no other brands can get a look in. This, in turn, is due to the company being involved in external projects, CSR if you like, to become a strong part of local culture. Then there is the example of American car manufacturer Buick, which despite being a rather tired brand in the States, was careful to adjust to local tastes when launching in the Chinese market - with highly successful results. These are but two of the case studies which bring the concepts to life bring the theories to life. I wasn't aware of Red Bull's origins as a Thai drink "discovered" and "reinvented" by an Austrian businessman - whose positioning of the brand has barely been changed since. The brand stuck to their principles, hardly amending their product or target market - and also marketing - even when they spread geographically.

My favourite chapter isn't actually penned by Hollis at all. How strong global brands create lasting value is contributed by Joanna Seddon of Millward Brown Optimor and is perhaps the densest chapter of all. The first diagram is pretty clear though: if the share prices of brands are normalised as of 1995 and then traced over time, dividing brands up as "strong" or "weak" according to global MB "BrandZ" data (another metric, this time based on surveys inviting respondents to directly evaluate brands). The strong brands outperform the weak ones by 20%, by virtue of a larger customer base, commanding price premiums and holding a stronger position in the business market; this, in itself, should give the willies to any board or directors who underestimate the importance of their brand strength. Seddon argues that a tangible value can be put on a consumer brand as opposed to its parent company, by a combination of splitting up the company's assets by brand, working out to what extent the brand's equity strength fuels the financial value of those assets (in other words, how important are those heuristics to the brand's value?) and applying a calculation to predict future performance (called, naturally enough, "brand momentum"). Everyone loves a "top 20" and indeed there it is (for the greedy, the appendix has the top 100) and all the usual suspects are there, but what is striking is that FMCGs are relatively low in number in the top echelons. This equating of an intangible asset like a brand, with some sort of strict financial value, is a bold one; the case is made compellingly.

Opponents of globalisation should stay right away from The Global Brand. It is unashamedly a manual for those wanting to sell western brands to consumers in developing countries. Although the importance of not riding slipshod over local cultures is touched upon, there is nothing at all on the ethics of globalisation itself - neither social nor environmental implications, which I thought was a shame, as it is otherwise a pretty comprehensive one-stop-shop for companies wanting to extend the distribution of their brand. Very occasionally Hollis comes across as slightly patronising, but in his defence, everything is steeped in facts gleaned from research, which may conform to stereotype in some cases. This also excuses the fact that the explanations of Millward Brown metrics can occasionally make it feel like a sales brochure - the fact that he uses his own examples for case studies and insight really manifests itself. It's real primary insight, and after all you might as well stick to what you know.

Hollis' clear enthusiasm for the subject matter, combined with his skills for bringing statistics to life, mean that this book, which is grounded in research-based insights, is a gripping read. The chapter on consumer behaviour in Africa, written by two local researchers, is not as eloquently written as Hollis' own work, but still conveys enthusiasm and includes some of the most interesting insights: from the concept of price - budgeting is something that is done day-to-day rather than month-to-month - to status of certain objects. I loved the anecdote of the Malawian who buys washing powder - which conveys greater social status - to place proudly on top of the washing machine; yet she also buys laundry bars, which she considers to work twice as well!

If I had any criticism it would be that the writing loses its sparkle when Hollis moves away from his core territory of insight and branding strategies and onto marketing tactics - it's clear that Hollis isn't a marketeer; the last few chapters of the book drag on a bit, and tend to repeat much of what was said earlier in the book. His principles are clear enough and enlivened by so many case studies that there's really no need to set out step by step instructions for what to do - Part Three is almost redundant.

Ultimately The Global Brand should have universal appeal - while it contains specific, practical instructions on how to evaluate the sustainability of a brand for global expansion, more generally it consists of convincing arguments for how to (and not to) extend the range of a campaign or business into new areas.

Take Back Parliament: why such a militant-sounding name?

First things first - I'm getting sick of writing about nothing but politics on here recently, but it is an exciting time at the moment so I make no apology for another post, although I will start writing about some other things very soon. Today I wandered down to a political demonstration for the first time since 2003 - when I sank a bottle of port with a mate at the huge anti-war march. Good times. Today's was on a much smaller scale, and the only political issue that really gets my goat these days - electoral reform. About 500 people pitched up to a "Fair Votes Now" protest outside Parliament. But in truth, I have to say I found it a little limp.

Rallies and demonstrations are like peas in a pod. The samba band - check; the interminable list of speakers, consisting of eager twenty-somethings, unseated ex-MPs, and reform lobbyists - check; people trying to flog copies of Socialist Worker - check; rude anti-Tory placards - check; shrill whistles, exuberent teenage girls, bemused tourists and growling anti-politics passers-by - check, check and checkmate. The chants of "What do we want? When do we want it?" are ubiquitous to the point of being meaningless now. It doesn't matter what these rallies are about - they all tend to have a pretty vague message of "let's take over the world, starting here" and have a militant, anti-society, rebellious feel to them. Today was no exception, although the issue at hand was rather geekier than normal.

The core message was pretty clear - we need to keep pushing for a real proportional system although a Yes vote in any AV referendum is also desirable. The placards seemed to be pushing a different agenda - mostly complaining about the coalition. I was tempted to bring along one saying "STV is not an STD" but decided against it. Evan Harris, Ken Ritchie and the ubiquitous George Monbiot (does he do anything apart from the  rally circuit these days?) were among the speakers, with a young compere who whipped the crowd up nicely. at one point he managed to get a genuinely hilarious call-and-response of

"What do we want?"
"Electoral reform!"
"When do we want it?"
"Subject to a referendum!"

which sounded very slick indeed. Kudos. The afternoon concluded with a trip to Downing Street to drop off a petition.

Just a final word on nomenclature. I seem to be getting roped into more and more mailing lists besides my membership of the Electoral Reform Society: as well as the ERS, this event was run by, among others, Power2010, Take Back Parliament and Vote for a Change. All four groups seem to be campaigning for exactly the same things. Why the need to fragment things all over the place? Vote for a Change was a disastrous name to begin with, sounding identical to the Conservative election slogan, while Take Back Parliament sounds like a militant anarchist group. Someone banged on about putting purple ribbons on every street in the land. People need to get a grip; electoral reform isn't something you're going to get millions of people campaigning for - it's an issue that needs to be dealt with slowly and steadily. You can't explain the need for PR with a "Fair Votes Now" chant or bits of ribbon. Most people are interested in the best way to improve their health and education facilities. They need to be educated in the reasons why their vote is not currently going as far as it should, why a proportional system would ensure that they have their say in a meaningful way, and how that could affect those front-line services. None of the speakers dwelt on the reasons why or how electoral reform could affect voters, and why it is a Good Thing. The stomping of feet and chanting of slogans will be forgotten tomorrow. Will the 500 people who turned up all try to educate and convince a dozen people about the need for real reform tomorrow? Because if they do, it'll be much more valuable than the feeling of today's rally being another pea in another pod.