Manipulate Festival round-up: The House; L’Amour Du Risque reviews

Produced and programmed by Manipulate Arts – formerly Puppet Animation Scotland – Manipulate Festival’s eclectic, international line-up of visual theatre, puppetry and animation annually enlivens Edinburgh’s dark winter months. Experimental dance sits snugly alongside short films; circus shows are crammed in next to silent clowning.

This year’s 10-day edition features some shows already seen elsewhere: Al Seed’s mythologically-inspired movement show Plinth, which sees the Glasgow-based theatremaker retell the tale of Theseus and the Minotaur in a remarkable physical performance set against a dramatically doomy landscape; and Tess, from Ockham’s Razor, as well as Ramesh Meyyappan and Ad Infinitum’s Last Rites, both of which The Stage recently reviewed. 
But there are several UK premieres in the programme, too. First is The House (★★), a puppetry piece from Denmark’s Sofie Krog Teater at the Traverse Theatre. It’s a farcical comedy-horror that takes place inside and around a carefully constructed doll’s-house-cum-family-crematorium, within which creators Krog and David Faraco are hidden throughout.

The story revolves around two dastardly crematorium workers planning to murder their ailing aunt – who is also their boss – and take over her business. Things go awry when the aunt’s spirit somehow finds its way into the family dog, and their predicament is further complicated by a drunken lawyer and two inept burglars. Think Fawlty Towers crossed with Hansel and Gretel crossed with Quentin Tarantino. Krog and Faraco manipulate a variety of Punch-and-Judy-style puppets with dexterity, supplying a range of absurd voices, and the set is impressively detailed. But the story is a bit sloppy, and the humour laboured, its bloodthirsty, chocolate-box charm wearing thin.

Much more successful is L’Amour du Risque (Love of Risk) (★★★★) at Fruitmarket Gallery, a silent comedy from Olivier Rannou’s French outfit Compagnie Bakélite that has a fleet of six robot vacuum cleaners attempt to serve one man his dinner. Rannou sits at a small table, while a squadron of small, round, whirring discs, to which various devices have been attached, wait on him. One takes his coat. Another brings him a glass of wine. A third serves him pasta, while a fourth ferries him the sauce. A fifth carries a Bluetooth speaker to serenade him while he waits. At first, the process is laborious but tidy. Soon, though, all hell breaks loose. Spaghetti and spoons are strewn across the floor, and a sixth vacuum is demanding a tip. Rannou stews, helplessly, throughout.
It is short and sweet, with an infectiously chaotic sense of humour. And maybe, amid the mayhem, there is a crafty comment on our rocky relationship with technology. We rely on robots throughout our lives, not just for cleaning the floor: will we all end up with spaghetti sauce in our laps?