Right now, I'm seated in the back of some panel discussion about the various fringe festivals throughout the world. The moderator is a short British man with a bright voice and he's seated between several organizers of the festivals. One Russian audience member keeps interrupting the discussion to ask how much it costs to produce a show. Seriously, he piped up just after the introductions were made and the polite applause subsided. "HOW MUCH TO DO SHOW?" "DO I MAKE MONEY FAST?" He's obviously got a golden script.
Oh my god, this is a torturous talk - one of those discussions that seems perfectly engaging to the folks onstage, but reminds the audience of being trapped in the musty bedroom of a strange relative's apartment. I'm assuming that the audience is comprised mainly of hopeful producers, hoping that a few smiles and an ass washing will get them a good venue. Of the panelists, one guy runs the Prague fringe and one woman runs the Brighton fringe. If they mated, they might spawn a proper festival. I should be happy, though, since this is not a commercial audition. These idealists before me at least have the decency to produce predominantly terrible theater in bleak cities throughout Europe. I mean, wouldn't you want to see the world premiere of "Wrinkles in Time (Granny Gets A Man)"? Yes, you would. I know you and you've been waiting for this exact event. (PICTURED: Artistic Director of the Prague Fringe)
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