Review: The Creative Martyrs, Fringe 2024

Birdy suggested we should try to see some Fringe shows together. Birdy also suggested the 18+ age-rated The Creative Martyrs at Fingers Piano Bar.

So, we went. Believe it or not, I’d never been to Fingers before, nor seen an 18+ rated show, and never encountered The Creative Martyrs.

Good news! Birdy’s honour as a recommender of Fringe gigs has been upheld as I enjoyed everything.

The Creative Martyrs are part of the PHB Free Fringe, so audience members can pay as much, as little, or nothing at all for the show and can decide at the end. We both chipped in despite August destroying my bank balance.

Firstly, the 18+ age rating was undoubtedly due to the boozy venue. While there’s adult language in the dialogue and songs, I think the message should be piped into the minds of youngsters, and at the same time, we should encourage critical thinking.

The Creative Martyrs sing political philosophy; I like the songs and their politics. The flipside applies; if you’re a Daily Mail reader, think Brexit was a good idea, and that Just Spot Oil protesters sitting on roads deserve longer jail time than anti-migration rioters, then I suspect you’ll hate the show.

Tone

The tone is, therefore, left-leaning politics and conjures a picture of a dystopian society doomed by corruption and inaction.

Inaction is a theme; if you’re feeling a bit thin-skinned and in no mood for a telling-off, you might well bristle at some rebukes. If you can’t accept there’s privilege in being a cis white man, then, also, you might feel a bit uneasy.

That said, I don’t want to overstate it — there are no attacks on the audience here. There is just the unvarnished truth and, on occasion, the surgical removal of varnish that might have been handily concealing problems otherwise easier to ignore.

There’s a song about Doom Scrolling, which is when you browse social media and flip through bad news after bad news, toxic comments, negativity, and hate. It’s terrible for your mental health; curate your social media connections and train the algorithm to do better for you by interacting with better content. Now, though, you’ll have a memorable song to bring to mind if you find yourself doing it.

The gig is a great partner for a basement piano bar during the Fringe, even if a piano is never used. It’s poetic, often slow in tempo, and leans towards the surreal and melancholy.

What to expect

Fingers Piano Bar is great. It’s petite and comfortable, and you can have a drink at a table while you watch and listen. However, if it’s exceptionally busy, I wonder if you’ll be able to hear the act if you’re at the bar.

The Creative Martyrs are a duo dressed in well-weathered 1920s style suits and dusty bowler hats – think Charlie Chaplin. Both performers have their faces painted white with black highlights like a sad clown and mournful mime.

There are string instruments and kazoos. I know, kazoos and mimes? Red flags for some, but there’s there’s no actual clowning around and the kazoo moments are musical and relatively brief.

These two will sing and talk and expect some audience interaction as they’ll talk to you. There’s a call-and-response song that I can’t do because I have no such skill, but Birdy took part in it and seemed to enjoy it.

The show is mostly music, but not exclusively. It examines some ‘old tech’ and even has a cyberpunk moment. Dialogue between songs occurs as points are made, arguments are plotted, and the next musical moment is lined up.

Overall

The Creative Martyrs and I, I suspect, share similar worldviews. I enjoyed the show but concede that confirmation of belief and tribal camaraderie was undoubtedly part of the experience!

I would have preferred a touch more music (because it was good) to spoken word (because I didn’t need to be persuaded). In fact, I did feel slightly impatient throughout but can’t tell you whether that’s because some lyrics need clipping or whether the pair were creating a sense of urgency in me.

Lastly, I’m not sure who the martyrs are here and whether they gave up some creative freedom to present because it didn’t feel like it. The Creative Provocateurs, perhaps?

I’ll absolutely come to see The Creative Martyrs again, hope for a changed-up performance and desperately hope that’s because we’re doing better as a society.