News
Boris and Sergey: Puppets with Attitude
During the 2010s, a late-night show featuring two faceless bunraku puppets became a surprise hit of the Fringe. The duo of Boris and Sergey were puppets with a bad attitude, whether parodying The Matrix or simply trying to con their audience, and the juxtaposition of skilled manipulation and anarchic performance won over the rowdy audiences that would more usually be found at stand-up comedy. Flabbergast Theatre would later move towards human performers, notably in the ambitious Swell Mob which immersed audiences in the kind of disreputable underworld that would have delighted Boris and Sergey, but these early productions were a bold move into territory that other marionettes would not dare to tread.
Creative Director and Company Manager Dylan Tate acknowledged that much of the shows’ energy came from the character of the puppets. For 2017’s One Man Extravaganza, he imagined them finally achieving their ambitions. ‘Through all of the Boris & Sergey series we have seen the characters on the hunt for fame. This time we wanted to show them at the height of the careers, entertaining the crowds in the golden age of Hollywood.’
Perhaps because of their faceless, almost abstract construction, Boris and Sergey were never limited to a particular scenario: ‘Boris & Sergey fit well into different periods of time, but it was watching old movie reels of famous hosts in a time gone by that gave us inspiration for the show’s setting,’ Tate explains. And for Artistic Director Henry Maynard, this extended to the puppets’ performance style. ‘I really enjoyed the idea that Sergey was desperate to do his one-man oeuvre to convince everyone of his burgeoning talent as a master of physical theatre.’ This leads to what Maynard described as ‘an incredibly pretentious affair taking inspiration from Kafka, Brecht, Artaud, Beckett and the early work of Steven Berkoff!’
The Edinburgh Fringe was, of course, the ideal place for Sergey to display his performance chops, with a potential audience that could have spent their day watching performers try to adapt the legacies of these artists. Indeed, Berkoff himself made regular appearances in Edinburgh throughout the century. The Fringe’s unique programme, which is largely uncurated and places comedy cheek-by-jowl with serious theatre and experimental performance, also provided a appropriate location for Flabbergast’s aesthetic. As Tate observes, the journey was always taking sudden twists.
‘We want to keep the audience entertained with laughter,’ he comments, ‘then turn a corner and find that laughter turning into pity and warmth for the characters.’ Maynard added: ‘Tear the fourth wall down! We wholeheartedly believe that there is a live experience and that we all have an experience together. You have to be engaged and involved otherwise why bother? Boris & Sergey find their own way to engage the audience we just try to divert the river.’
The feel of a Boris and Sergey show had a looseness and almost chaotic edge: while they would often draw their audience into specific and spectacular moments, much of the energy came from interactions between the puppets and their puppeteers, or the reactions from the crowd. This ease and fluidity reflected the company’s creative process.
‘We rely heavily on improvisation when creating,’ Tate continued. ‘Finding scenarios for the puppets that make us belly laugh, sit on the edge of our seats, and feel real empathy for the characters.’
‘We chuck some puppeteers on stage and see what happens. Then we start to fine tune the movements and beats in the dialogue. It is daunting at times when you start with nothing but a loose idea, as the weeks pass you get a stronger sense of what the show will be.’
‘We enjoy making shows that develop organically,’ Maynard explained. ‘It means that pieces of work can take a long time to fully form (two years is about right). We use a living script with permission for our actors to occasionally go off-piste or try new gags or scenarios.’
‘Much like the Commedia Dell’arte model we have a loose structure with some rehearsed choreography but anything in between is fair game. This makes the shows different, fun and exciting to perform and to watch and adds an air of chaos to the proceedings.’
Of course, there is another, unspoken presence in the aesthetic: British seaside favourite Mr Punch. His origins in the commedia have equally been contorted by slapstick violence, an exultation in villainy and bursts of theatrical chaos. Flabbergast did capture something of a British performance aesthetic – without an indigenous form of puppetry, Britain has often relied on continental Europe – and their success manipulated both the familiar and the unexpected.
‘The audience will experience what the performers are experiencing and enter into a relationship with two leathery puppets,’ Tate concluded, while Maynard expressed his hopes for their reception. ‘Love, Laughter, sadness, disappointment and joy. We aim to provide an unpredictable rollercoaster of emotion. I'd like people to leave a little shell-shocked and not entirely sure about what just happened.’