Early Doors

Only on the Fringe could you stumble into a pub in the bright noon sunshine and feel within minutes like you’re in a late night lock-in. Despite being awkwardly programmed in the middle of the day, Early Doors manages to conjure the atmosphere of a boozer in full swing, instantly immersing festival-goers in the inebriation, laughter and despair of this most social of spaces.

The pub is also a space that naturally invites narrative. Sit down, grab a pint, tell a story. Standing and seated amongst the audience, Not Too Tame’s characters share poignant little snippets of their lives. Glasses slam down on the bar, while regulars hail us with prosaic yet poetic tales of sorrow, heartache and hope. There’s a visiting singer from Bristol, an out-of-work graduate flogging pills and DVDs, and a quizmaster with child custody woes.

Nestled amongst these shards of narrative there is also a subtle, implicit critique of austerity Britain. Jobs here are hard to come by and optimism is a rare commodity. The pub, meanwhile, remains one of the last beating hearts of the community, and even that is under threat.

Gloom is not dwelt on, however, and like all good nights out it ends on a tipsy note of joy. There might not be too much in the way of substance, but the everyday stories are intoxicating in their telling, optimistically suggesting that everyone—no matter how ordinary—has a right to be heard. We all have a story to tell.