Auto-Da-Fe

There’s a nostalgic vision of the Fringe in Edinburgh’s grassroots consciousness in which shows are like tapas – small treats to be cherished for their variety. Some plays aren’t to everyone’s taste, but part of the fun is in trying a bit of everything, and there’s a palpable sense of adventure in the air. The sun’s even shining. In reality, however, visitors can’t afford to freely experiment, with landlords charging double on August rent and a cartel of big venues driving up ticket prices.

Fired Up Production Players’ Auto-Da-Fe is an oyster from the sepia-toned Fringe past. It’s modestly priced, lasts half an hour, and reaches out to punters on risibly garish fliers whilst being a perfectly decent, irreproachable production. It’s a little known play creditable to one Tennessee Williams, who came up with about 50 such one-act plays over the years.

True, these plays are as short in scope as they are short in running time. And there can be little doubt that they remain in the dark while ambitious dramatists see them as lightweight alternatives to the Pulitzer-winner’s more obvious works. Then there's the difficulty of selling a half-hour show to punters expecting at least an hour's entertainment.

So this is a rare opportunity. Auto-Da-Fe an eloquently written vignette about guilt and redemption set on a suburban porch in New Orleans. It's smoothly delivered by the American troupe who earnestly reproduce the playwright’s trademark mal-à-l’aise in very short time. I have a feeling, however, that the brevity of it will leave many of today’s audiences feeling short-changed.