Me, Myself and Hand The Gallery at The Courtyard of Curiosities at the Migration Museum Tue, 11 Mar. Some Fringe shows can be a little light on. They just manage 45 minutes and you maybe feel there could have been a bit more. But Me, Myself and Hand packs an hour full of fun and laughter, and like the best theatre, time is suspended and flys by. One audience member who was at their very first Fringe show said afterwards they really thoroughly enjoyed it, and as a seasoned Fringe goer I have to agree. From the get-go the laughter starts and rolls on. Zola Allen has developed her clowning into a fine skill set that honours the first principle: play. The game always comes first, even when it gets personal and starts to ask embarrassing questions of the artist, and in turn, all of us present. A great solo show is really about the performer, and although reluctant at first, she is gradually coaxed into revealing some inner secrets. Now, you may be wondering who does this coaxing. In this case it’s both who and what. The ‘Hand’ in the show’s title is apt to take on a life of its own. The hand begins innocently enough as a guide by literally pointing the way, taking an active part in every scene. Talk about talking to the hand! They soon have a chummy bond that involves the odd misunderstanding, until the hand discovers its own power. As a ‘truth-telling’ finger-pointer, it gets under her skin and bit by bit takes over all body parts. The show’s clever script poses some pertinent questions, such as ‘are we just puppets, squeezed between the past and future, pressured from all sides to dance to some piper’s tune?’ There are actually lots more questions fired at the audience, but however dark the subjects get, the fun and laughter never stops. This is due to Zola’s character Linda being established from the first instant as a clown. That is, she may not actually be taking any of this seriously, other than ensuring that you enjoy this experience to the max with ‘the funniest girl in the world.’ Some silly and poignant songs bookend this delightful show, and the direction by Arran Beatie is solid, giving full rein to Zola Allen’s talents. Together they have obviously deeply explored how to be funny, and honed every facet of this show to make it a completely rounded piece of zany yet perceptive theatre. Like the best clowns, they show us the opportunities of redemption, honesty and integrity – if only in the last possible moments.