Issy Cory
Loneliness can take many forms, and in Morten Grove Frandsen’s Laughing Out Lonely, this form is fluid, gnarly, and in-yer-face. Through an amalgamation of opera, selfie camera sequences, and shredded fluffy bunnies, Frandsen presents an exposition on isolation that is standalone in its uniqueness.
Some religious groups speak of a Rapture, and it’s this that I find most apt as a comparison to Laughing Out Lonely. It is simultaneously fearful, vibrant, and discomforting, a scattergun approach to absurdist performance art. As we move through vignettes of violent self harm and outreaches for community, the effect is overwhelming.
Frandsen’s voice soars over the audience, spread out across the room sat on their yellow storage boxes; though un-amplified, it has a strength that only years of training can muster. When their voice is joined by a chorus of meandering melodies, the atmosphere is at its most powerful, and it’s a struggle to contain our awe at hearing these sound combinations.
Made up of verbatim social media posts discussing feelings of loneliness, the libretto is frequently haphazard in its relaying. The use of slang such as “What the f*ck?”, “I hate old people”, and “The world is shitty” echoes across the walls in a cringe-y overtone, and I can’t get over my firm dislike of when people try use colloquial language in opera. With such an Artaudian essence, it makes us wonder why the need for discernible lyrics at all. Trust us with the performance, and we will understand.
Laughing Out Lonely‘s haunting beauty is its fearless confrontation of deep, dark reflections. Unafraid to show the shameful underbelly of itself, Frandsen’s visual imagery is as astounding as it is horrifying. I’m not sure I can look at a plush bunny rabbit toy in the same way again.
There is the sense when we emerge that what we have seen is an act of self-indulgence, that it wouldn’t necessarily matter if the audience was present or not. While Frandsen forcefully emotes throughout the show, the emotion fails to bridge the gap between performer and spectator. But then, perhaps we are not meant to care, perhaps we are only here to observe, to state that we saw it, and therefore it was real.
In other words, Laughing Out Lonely is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Aptly staged in the Dissection Room of Summerhall, what befalls the 45-minute show is something of a dissection indeed.
Recommended Drink: Ice cold mouthwash.
You can catch Laughing Out Lonely at Summerhall from August 25-30 at 13:15 and 14:15 (45mins). Tickets are available on the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Tom Clayton
Freddie Haberfellner
