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Edinburgh Fringe: House of Life ★★★★★

5 mins read

We are gathered here this evening, in what we suspect is usually a storage cellar off Cowgate, to be led to scientifically proven happiness by the RaveRend (Ben Welch) and Trev (Lawrence Cole). 

The party begins before the show, with the RaveRend daubing us accolites in glitter, and welcoming us to the space. Funky vibes hype us up into a mood to abandon our worries and troubles.

Then, a pause. Trev has a rather lovely Casio Keyboard, and he’d like us to know about it. The scene is set. The RaveRend has arrived. 

Launching into an introductory song, during which the RaveRend directs the lighting operator, it’s immediately clear that this show is going to be a very different experience.

The RaveRend is here to lead us through an eight-step programme to 100% guaranteed Never Sad Again.

On the surface, this is an affectionate parody of self-help influencers and charismatic evangelists. Underneath, it’s doing something much more subtle, which only becomes clear as the hour concludes.

Before we get there, we have to embrace the first few steps of the RaveRend’s path to enlightenment and ascension. 

The first step is to arrive. You might think that you’ve already done this, just by being in the room – but this is the beginning of a process whereby the RaveRend slowly manages to gain the trust of the audience. There’s some light audience participation, but at this point, it’s a communal experience, with everyone equally called upon to join in. 

From here we move to rebirth, and this involves a guided meditation – so far, so pseudo-self-help. As the RaveRend continues to deliver some beautifully over-stretched metaphors, the overall tone of the evening becomes increasingly apparent.

This is a joyful performance, and the RaveRend is channelling the spirit of Kenny Everett. This is most evocative in his ability to flip the mood of the performance on a pinhead. One minute a vibrant chorus of music, the next almost total silence as he calls us to listen to his soothing words.

We move on, as we “self-esteem the shit out of Neil”, an audience member. With most shows, you’d expect that if you’re not near the front, you’re safe from being called upon to participate. Here, that isn’t the case, as the RaveRend bounces around the entire room.

We quickly moved through steps four: ‘Visualise’, and five: ‘In Your Body’. We journey on to what becomes the emotional peak of the event: Step Six – ‘Purge’.

Engaging in some genuinely therapeutic screaming, audience members are invited to speak into the RaveRend’s microphone and say what pisses them off. The responses are a mixed bag, from ‘Genocide Deniers’ and ‘Pancreatic Cancer’, to ‘my sister-in-law’, and ‘socks’. 

Among these steps, a small ‘Chekhov’s plot point’ is becoming more prominent. The end of the show is a response to this and involves the audience choosing how to proceed.

Throughout all this, Trev works his magic in the background, providing accompaniment on his keyboards and percussion instruments, making incredible use of a loop machine. 

But the undoubted star is the RaveRend, whipping us all into a frenzy and creating an incredible sense of community in an astonishingly short time. 

In the end, it’s the shared experience that elevates this show. The moulding of a group of people, almost all complete strangers, into a group who applaud each other’s achievements. A group who creates a space where other audience members feel able to be vulnerable about their lives. 

If Sunday worship was like this, we’d attend every week. As it is, this is the House of Life, and we’d like to sign up to a Lifetime Membership. 

House of Life continues at Underbelly Cowgate – Belly Dancer (Venue 61) at 8.55pm (20:55) until August 25th

All images including Featured Image courtesy of SM Publicity / Sheep Soup productions

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