Edinburgh 2024 Review: KNIVES AND FORKS, Gilded Balloon

The friendship at the heart of Knives and Forks is almost as vivid and messy as the show's backdrop. As the story of Iris and Thalia unfolds, their body doubles decorate the back wall with paint, ink, spray cans, chalk, paper, and more. Written by Danielle James, this abstract, expressive piece explores female friendship with a bold new approach.

As the time frame darts between various months from 2020-2024, we learn that best friends Iris and Thalia met at university, and now live together, both in their early twenties and working entry-level jobs. Their fairly comfortable lives take a turn when Iris gets a terminal diagnosis, and her illness puts a new strain on their close dynamic. While the plot of Knives and Forks is fairly straightforward, the way it is told is far from conventional. Both characters have body doubles in matching outfits, who perform interpretive dance and movement echoing the characters’ inner states, as well as writing dates, quotes, and thoughts on the back wall. 

The unique storytelling of this show means it holds your attention throughout: with a busy stage, there’s always something new happening, and audiences have to think hard to connect the dots between it all. This complexity forms the production’s biggest strength and biggest weakness: it’s endlessly creative and boundary-pushing, but there’s so much going on that the picture can sometimes get too blurry, the threads too tangled. A particular instance of this is the choice to have the body doubles write the date of each scene on the back wall: once the canvas starts to get cluttered, it becomes very difficult to keep track of what has happened when, especially as the show jumps around quite randomly within its time frame.

The movement aspect of Knives and Forks offers up some beautiful moments, with unexpected glances between actor and double, as well as tender moments of physical contact. It gives the production a fascinating second layer, and the direction of this is handled brilliantly by Caterina Danzico. There are perhaps moments where it becomes slightly too abstract, distracting from the dialogue rather than supporting it, and some of the group movement-based transitions veer into confusing territory. 

Regardless of any messiness and confusion, however, the creative risks taken in the design and movement of this production do pay off. The combination of traditional scenes, abstract dance, and live writing and painting create a mesmerising, original take on a topic that we see quite a lot of at the Fringe. In addition to this, the cast all commit wholeheartedly to this ambitious production: India Walton and Yen Chien-Hui are both skilled and very watchable dancers. Thea Mayeux and Ianthe Bathurst as Thalia and Iris give equally powerful performances, deftly handling a whiplash-inducing range of emotions and scenarios. 

While it may need a little streamlining, Knives and Forks is a boldly ambitious production, combining art forms to examine a friendship from several angles at once. Company Band of Sisters, and especially director Hannah Calascione are certainly ones to watch when it comes to original theatre. 

Knives and Forks ran at Gilded Balloon Patter House (The Nip) during the Edinburgh Fringe 2024

Image Credit: Olivia Lindsay