2024 Fringe Review: Let’s Not Turn on Each Other
Let Bethandreth and Cownow teach you about doomsday with song, dance, and a medley of absurd bits.
Doomsday is coming, and for Bethandreth (Michael Watt) and Cownow (Jacquelin Walters) it couldn’t be soon enough. Members of a doomsday cult, the main characters of Let’s Not Turn on Each Other were sent on a seemingly important mission to an outpost. Here they wait for a signal of the end times from their beloved and divine leader Andruth. After months, maybe years (they’re not sure, at all) they’re forced to set out on a journey.
Let’s Not Turn on Each Other, written by Walters and Watt and directed by Nicole Maloney, is as original as the actors are committed — which is to say, very. Walters and Watt established the silly world of Bethandreth and Cownow with a medley of laugh-out-loud funny bits. Every day they wake up and follow a very strict agenda laid out by Andruth. They hinge on his every word in the form of cassete tapes. Most of Andruth’s proclamations are ridiculous (he has vendettas against several root vegetables), but no one is more zealous than Bethandreth and Cownow.
Costuming and makeup were a character in itself. With long, blonde, braided wigs, bandanas, colourful drawn-outside-the-lines makeup, and dowdy dresses (Andruth says modest is hottest), Bethandreth and Cownow looked like a Looney Tunes interpretation of cult members. One especially funny detail were the butt-flaps on the backs of the dresses. If you know the purpose of a butt-flap you know a dress has little to no need for one. On its own the butt-flap is funny but Walters and Watt make good comedic use of it.
Audience work and interaction is integral to the play’s comedy. At the very beginning, Walters and Watt break the fourth wall, setting off an hour of consistent fun. Walters and Watt roamed through the audience on their travels, lobbied questions, gave lessons on rationing, and got up close and personal. Audience work is no easy thing. Luckily, this was the right script and the right performers for the task. It was clear Walters and Watt are very comfortable with an audience, and this set everyone at ease.
Another moment that made it clear Walters and Watt are seasoned performers was during a technical mishap. Something went wrong with Walters’ microphone, necessitating tech to run onstage and fix it. While a mishap like this can halt a production’s momentum completely, Watt was able to save it by staying in character. Specifically, they threatened to sing Celine Dion, and almost did before Walters’ microphone was fixed. We never did get to hear him sing.
The musical component of Let’s Not Turn on Each Other is unignorable. Like the play itself, most of the songs were completely comedic. Later, when there was a turn towards vulnerability — although still with an undercurrent of comedy — it really worked. Walters and Watt timed the sincerity perfectly. When Walters and Watt sang these songs, it was even more clear they both have great voices. Even with lots of movement, they both never failed to enunciate or ran out of breath. Let’s Not Turn on Each Other would probably still have been funny with less experienced vocalists, but I’m glad that’s not the play I saw.
By the end, everyone was completely endeared to these oddballs. Let’s Not Turn on Each Other is pure fun with a healthy, palatable amount of sincerity. It’s so original I completely understand why nobody else has thought of doing this. What I don’t understand is how Walters and Watt came up with this. Really, I’ve been racking my brain. Obviously I sincerely hope for another opportunity to be surprised by the misadventures of Bethandreth and Cownow, or whatever Walters and Watt come up with next.
Let’s Not Turn on Each Other is showing at Fringe until August 31.