Al Seed

Al Seed is never good first date theatre- or family friendly, even if he does do a fine clown. He is sinister, abrasive, sometimes mysterious, frequently frightening. In previous works he evoked spectres of nuclear destruction and famine, invited the audience to steal his equipment and plunged physical theatre into dark, and wildly funny, new territories.

The Fooligan takes Seed into a new direction. Apart from two sudden bursts of mania, he is static throughout this performance, preferring to tell stories that have an archaic, mystical aura. Unexpectedly, Seed reveals skill as a pure storyteller, capturing the atmosphere and cadences of Sufi parables and Grimm fairytales.

The Edinburgh Fringe has been kind to Seed: nominated for a Total Theatre Award in 2006, he won a Fringe First in 2004. His association with The Arches is appropriate, as his work thrives in the dank recesses of human experience- his performances are like a manifestation of the venue's bleak space. As one of the few experimental artists who make the annual trip to Edinburgh, his journeys into terror are set apart by his professionalism and seriousness.

His usual emaciated body is padded to obesity. He wears the frayed costume of a degenerate nobleman, weaving his tales of cruelty, finding the parallels between our era and his archetypal characters. Subtle use of lighting- always a key Seed feature - and a measured, sinister ease of delivery- entice the listener. Seed smoothly renders absurdist nightmare as pompous anecdote.

The vitality lies in Seed's willingness to expand his techniques, but also his subversion of genres. An easier work, perhaps, than his usual physical tours de force, but certainly seductive and equally unsettling.