Ashley Strand: Glorified Disasters

Hey, thanks for the spoiler alert, buddy! Most of the people in the audience aren't wondering about what it's about because I start the show by saying "I'm going to tell you three stories." In the guide it's described as "a mix of storytelling and stand-up." It's made absolutely clear what it is and should be, and if the conventions of storytelling hadn't come clear to you by the halfway mark, I can only attribute that to your lack of experience -- which I suppose is also your excuse for giving away the big surprise of the second story. If you had any appreciation for storytelling, you'd understand the importance of the element of discovery, how thrilling that can be for people. So as long as we're telling each other how to do our jobs, it's definitely NOT yours to ruin the show for people who may still want to go.

Your profound misunderstanding of the first story could be summed up thus, "America IS truly fucked." Why the Hell would I make that story up? I'm not claiming that I didn't use a little poetic license in describing the Charmin Times Square promotional, but surely you're familiar with the concept, "the lie that tells the larger truth?" You'd be shocked to know how accurate my description is. Of course, if you had some dedication to your own craft, you might have shouldered the onerous burden of looking for a youtube video of the Charmin superstore, rather than blythely discrediting a story that consistently makes people laugh uproariously and think at the same time. And what's wrong with that?

It doesn't fit into your categories. This isn't "comedy." Really, why didn't you mention how many laughs I got? This isn't "pathos." People have left my show in tears -- think that happens by accident?

What came first anyway, the animals or the names? The things or the categories? Can we imagine things like movies or plays that don't fit neatly into one category or another, but have value nonetheless, indeed because they challenge our expectations? And what is the fringe for, endless regurgitations of the same old modes in easily identifiable form? And if the fringe is indeed a place for experiments with new admixtures of familiar forms, or the revival of old forms with new themes (like, say, "storytelling") then shouldn't the job of the reviewer be in some measure to identify the unfamiliar and judge it on its own terms?

If the job of the reviewer at the fringe is to have an open mind, you've failed, utterly. Zero stars, Bernard. By the time we reach the end of your article, we realise what we're reading, not a reviewer dedicated to honestly engaging and evaluating the works of performers to aid audiences choose a show, but an aspiring writer trying to showcase his own talents in the hopes that some day he'll be a real writer, and not just a critic.

But when the jewel in the crown of your piece is the incredible clunker, "a Monet in reverse," the hope ain't good.

Anyone who likes a layered, cathartic show with a lot of hard laughs and interesting ideas, come on down. Anyone who doesn't like their entertainment complicated, or who trusts the opinion of a college kid who's still uncomfortable with feelings and trying new things, yet has the gall to call himself a reviewer -- hey, let's not waste each other's time.

The editors of The Skinny should consider this review a disgrace to their standards.