Review
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EDINBURGH INTERNATIONAL FESTIVAL 1990
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THE FLYING KARAMAZOV BROTHERS
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"Daily Telegraph" 20th August 1990
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Picture: RONMEANDERSON
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THEATRE Daily Telegraph London 20.8.90
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Hippy band of Jugglers
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QUITE what the Flying Karmazov Brothers are doing in the official Festival is one of this year's mysteries at Edinburgh. If ever a troupe had Fringe stamped all over them, then it is this happy band of engaging old hippies.
The FKB, who aren't really brothers and have nothing whatever to do with Dostoevsky, are spaced-out jugglers, but although they look as if they would be more at home performing on a San Francisco street corner at the height of the "summer of love" in 1967, their show proves an off-beat delight in the elegant surroundings of the Royal Lyceum Theatre.
. Sporting prodigious quantities of facial fuzz and ludicrously long hair tastefully tied back in pigtails, the Flying Karamazov Brothers combine a manic mastery of the Indian clubs with a zany, laid-back sense of humour. Their rhythmic juggling routines have an almost hypnotic effect as the four performers throw the clubs back and forth with astonishing dexterity and grace.
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Members of the audience are encouraged to produce bizarre objects for them to juggle with, and at the show I saw one of the Brothers coped surprisingly well with a fur coat, a bicycle seat and an artificial leg, though he failed to keep all three objects in the air for the required count of 10 and ended up with a custard pie in the kisser.
The FKB sing while juggling, play musical instruments while juggling, tap-dance while juggling, crack jokes while juggling, and chew gum while juggling. They also juggle with a terrifying collection of knives, hatchets and axes and pretend that they have been stabbed or that a hand has been severed.
All four performers - Fyodor, Smerdyakov, Ivan and Dmitri -have distinct stage personalities of their own and an excellent line in cross-talk. Just occasionally the routines go on for too long, and though they would doubtless dismiss the idea as uncool macho posturing, I'd occasionally like to see them juggle with a greater number of objects.
But their loopy charm and evident affection for each other keeps the occasionally shambolic show on the road, and the finale is wonderful. Wheeling on a bank of electronic equipment, and wearing electronic drum pads and radio mikes, they play a tune by hitting their own heads and bodies while juggling.
In the best hippy tradition, the accompanying song promises that if everyone learnt to juggle, the world would be a nicer, greener, happier place. Wow, far out man.
Charles Spence
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