Isaac Andrews
On stage, I see antique furniture, a quilted throw, and a little reader's nook (which is never interacted with), and a small teleprompter screen, appearing to us as a makeshift TV. Throughout the show Gribble refers to the projector on the upstage wall, giving us some visuals alongside her stories. It’s a delightful, homely atmosphere and I’m excited to see what comes of it.
Gribble begins the show taking us through a prepared outcomes sheet, which is only fitting considering she sounds to be a powerhouse working at the community center. The slide is an amusing touch. It contains goals such as ‘laugh’ and ‘learn’ and works well to effectively establish what we, as an audience, would come to expect. Gribble also starts with a great deal of honesty. Writing a Fringe show is hard. Especially if it’s an off-the-cuff, rather impromptu decision to make one. Throughout the show, she shares her video diaries, in which she’ll check in as the show dates draw closer. She’ll repeatedly open by bringing us back to her drawing board, which is empty. I thought this is so clever; in times of barrenness, sometimes you simply need to turn on the camera and just make something. So very relatable to all those in the arts and especially those familiar with the labyrinth of Fringe creation.
We take flight into her stories about growing up around animals, the tribulations of changing names and, of course, rats. I’m happy to report she presents a combination of quirky stories and sections that feel very akin to stand-up comedy. It is heartwarming to see the audience respond to Gribble with hearty, full-belly laughter, and to see her then relish in the moment a little longer, earning another well-deserved chuckle. Gribble has a cheeky but humble approach, and it’s alluring. She is unapologetic and takes her time detailing a story, but checks in with the audience throughout. She has a harmonious relationship with us, and I’m thoroughly engaged in her tales. Frankly, I’m considering booking another ticket for tomorrow night.
There’s plenty of story-share going when it’s encompassing Gribble adorable rat duo: Slug and Tums! As I walked in, atop the complimentary tea and biscuit, there is a mountain of small picture-books, showcasing Slug and Tums and their array of teeny-tiny rat-sized furniture. This is absolutely adorable and sets the scene for just how much Gribble really loves her rats. And who wouldn’t?
Gribble delves into the frustrations and joys, the lows, the highs, of owning rats. Whether they steal her pens or distract her in her workspace, Slug and Tums sure seem the mischievous duo. As we learn, there’s a lot of similarities between rats and babies, they each require plenty of attention and both are full time jobs! Gribble is honest, and speaks on death, and what it means when growing up around a variety of animals of different ages. Gribble has a darker side to her humor, as she reveals to us later on, and it really appealed to my kind of comedy. “Just because something’s dead doesn’t mean it’s gross” and “fat is an adjective, it doesn’t mean ugly.” These more poignant notes are something I’m going to be holding onto.
Hootie-Patudi Productions’ Rat Tales! is a brilliant show. I couldn't be more glad to have attended and I hope this isn’t the last I see of Gribble. I could not applaud her more on what she brings to the Fringe table, and if she were wondering whether to make another, I’d hope she’d take this as a sign to continue. Give @slug.and.tums a follow on Instagram!