If there is a more loveable company than Little Bulb, I can’t name them. This happy band of musical and theatrical vagabonds explore the world with deceptively high levels of skill and a consistent wide-eyed wonder. They make the world seem like a better, less cynical place. Of course, that does mean there is a tendency for a certain winsomeness to creep into proceedings, and sometimes the faux naif gets the upper hand.
As it does in this latest piece, a cabaret-style two-hander that explores why the humpbacked whale sings, and why humans do too. Maybe, if science can’t offer an answer, singing itself can? The final moments of the piece build to a climax in which whale and human voices rise together in an earthly sound as sad as it is beautiful. In fact, the show is at its best and finds its voice in the musical sections; most notably in an exquisite, haunting, Scottish whaling song. There’s an irony in the fact that something so beautiful can celebrate the hunting and destruction of these beautiful creatures.
Elsewhere, the hour is a mite scrappy, a little awkwardly pitched, and it doesn’t quite succeed in melding science and theatre in a coherent way. The nerdy personas of the performers and their comic relationships also need to be developed for full comic potential. Not, of course, that the chaos is anything other than deliberate. And like all Little Bulb’s work, this is likely to be a constant work in progress, that may yet grow into a real whale of a show.
• At Forest Fringe, Edinburgh, until 19 August. Box office: 0131-226 0000.
