Red Bastard

A nauseous concoction of fear and anxiety fills the air when awaiting Red Bastard. Word has spread about the prospect of antagonistic audience interaction and the tension permeates the room like a well matured hangover. At first glimpse, this dread seems validated by the man’s appearance: a bulbous and raw figure, with a nimble elegance undercutting his deliberately discomfiting presence. He prowls around with a disconcerting confidence as he berates and cajoles the audience. However, this isn’t just for his own amusement, it is for our benefit.

His demand is simple: to reveal our true selves, the sides of us that we suppress for fear of the consequences. Red Bastard is perceptive and chillingly compelling, and pushes just the right amount to make people think about their decisions and the risks they take – or more importantly, the risks they choose to ignore. He’s chasing something far greater and more ambitious than the purview of most comedy. He pulls at our resistance to be vulnerable and open, and poignantly forces us to compromise our instincts and avoid wasted moments, the moments that have the potential to define us. 

It’s also a startlingly funny show. The man himself, Eric Davis, is sadistically smart, going above and beyond what it takes to be entertaining. There are a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t go and see Red Bastard, but ignore every one because very rarely does a Fringe show genuinely change perspectives so effectively.