And I thought Fifi was just a name for a Poodle...

I went and saw "Stealing Venus".

I liked it.

It proved to me a few things I wasn't too sure of any more. My faith has been restored in my theory that an energetic performance can make for an engaging story. Sometimes, I worry that my own ideas for shows will fall flat because they involve too much chutzpah, pizzazz, and all-around rinky-tinkyness. I thought that energy might be a little old-fashioned.

This man did energy with charisma and loads of charm.

Most importantly, he told stories. True, the way he started his stories were a little base (You wanna know my story? My story?) but sometimes, that's okay.

I give it 3.5 Jazz Hands out of 5.

Then, I saw Montag, which proved to me the power of music. They kept using bizarre, distant soundclip music, trance-like in the way it repeated. It made simple stories seem abstract, and the story of lovers meeting seem ominous and dangerous. Cool.

I give it 4 Picassos out of 5. Renee drank a whole bottle of wine onstage in two swigs. I might have given it 5 had he spewed.

O Hi Yo Fringe, I spent a lot of money on you. With your Green Onion Cakes, Port Satay (which was un-satay-sfactory), Funky Pickle Pizza, Double lemon Chill, Chicken Bhoona, Scorpion Girl (how do I know her?), Balloon-swallowing man with a penis fixation, Deep fried Chocolate bars, and budding performers who either fall on their ass or rise to the top.

Amen.