 “It’s Bigfoot o’clock!”
It is difficult to imagine a more appropriate rallying cry for Bigfoot Ripped My Dog In Half I Saw It. Funny, ridiculous and just a little ominous, it captures exactly what Xhloe Rice and Natasha Roland are doing with their latest Fringe show. Beneath the silliness, there is always something considerably more unsettling lurking underneath. Two teenagers in an Appalachian town begin staging fake Bigfoot sightings for fun, until a neighbour’s dog turns up ripped to pieces in the woods. Suddenly, their harmless hoax has spiralled into something much bigger. They know they didn't do it, so what exactly is terrorising their community? Following three consecutive Fringe First Awards in 2022, 2023 and 2024, Rice and Roland have moved from The Space UK to Summerhall for their biggest production yet. There is a giant puppet, elaborate sound and lighting design, a smoke machine and a hit-heavy 90s soundtrack, but the physicality, clowning and commitment that have become their trademark remain firmly intact. As they told me in our Fringe preview interview, their work is “silly physical theatre that packs an emotional punch”. Bigfoot might be their clearest example yet. Their dynamic movement now creates an entire Appalachian community, with the pair shifting between government crisis teams, mechanics, locals and increasingly terrified residents. The costumes, from camouflage and combat gear to skating clothes and Converse, immediately evoke the 1990s, while the soundtrack completes the picture. That setting is important. Bigfoot explores a 1990s conspiracy culture where Bigfoot, UFOs and unexplained phenomena could still feel relatively innocent. The show captures that innocence while recognising how easily it can become something more dangerous. As Xhloe told me in our Fringe preview interview, they were interested in “misinformation and misdirection”, particularly “that feeling of, ‘Look over here so you don't notice what's happening over there.’” And that becomes the central idea of the production. Everyone is looking for Bigfoot while something much more serious is being overlooked. Beneath the chaos is a community crisis reminiscent of Flint, Michigan, where residents were exposed to dangerous levels of lead after the city switched its water supply to the Flint River in 2014. Despite mounting evidence that the water was contaminated, residents were repeatedly failed by government agencies, leaving a community to deal with the consequences of institutional neglect and a profound loss of trust. Bigfoot taps into that same idea. The monster becomes a distraction from the real problems facing the town. When the institutions meant to protect you have already failed, why wouldn't people start looking for answers somewhere else? Xhloe described the play as being interested in “conspiracy culture and this wider culture of doubt”, including “mistrust of government, mistrust of law enforcement, mistrust of information, and even mistrust of each other.” That makes Bigfoot surprisingly contemporary. As Natasha told me, “Especially living in America right now, it feels like we're constantly being flooded with information and media, and it can be difficult to know what deserves your attention.” From one double act to another, Bigfoot occasionally feels like Xhloe and Natasha have wandered into a Coen Brothers film. There is a particular Fargo quality to the rich, eccentric characters who populate this Appalachian town. These Mechanics, officials, locals and conspiracy theorists are all vividly drawn, each with their own peculiarities, while the increasingly ridiculous situation is treated with complete seriousness. It is in those character creations that the show finds its funniest moments. The production is more plot-driven than their previous work, but it never sacrifices the physical experimentation that has made Rice and Roland such distinctive Fringe performers. Moving to Summerhall and dramatically expanding the production could easily have made the work feel less intimate. Instead, it feels like a natural evolution. The pair told me that making Bigfoot involved constantly “wrestling with the play”. “Sometimes the play gets the upper hand, and sometimes we do,” Xhloe said. You can feel that experimentation in the finished production, but also the confidence that comes from three consecutive Fringe First wins. This is not Rice and Roland attempting to recreate what worked before. “All of our plays are bigger than just being Fringe shows,” Natasha told me. “We want them to continue living and growing beyond Edinburgh.” Bigfoot Ripped My Dog In Half I Saw It certainly feels capable of doing exactly that. For all its conspiracy theories, absurdity and gloriously ridiculous title, the show's most effective idea is also its simplest. Sometimes people believe in Bigfoot because they want the world to be more exciting. Sometimes because they want an explanation. And sometimes because believing in Bigfoot is easier than confronting the people who have actually let you down. Lee Hutchison 5/5 Summerhall 8-30th August |
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