You get to see some interesting spaces across the length and breadth of the Fringe, from grand old lecture theatres to the intimate City Cafe Nineties room, with its full-wall photos of Britney, Blur, B*Witched, and the like.
Now you might think, from the title, that Dharmander Singh’s serious-sounding show would be a little out of place here, but actually this colourful setting suits it rather well. A memorable early routine involves the ebullient Singh suggesting a Bollywood remix of Hollywood hits, which generally involves adding dancers and fireworks to cheer up the sad bits.
The show is chiefly autobiographical, though—our host is named after a Bollywood legend, hence that routine—and follows him from the British midlands to Berlin, a move that partly comes about due to Britain’s swing to the far right. Singh even experiences anti-immigrant views among his own community, towards newer arrivals, and it’s a theme that crops up in several shows this year. That paranoia-inducing rhetoric is increasingly powerful.
Singh experienced a smaller migration of his own at this year’s Fringe, as this karaoke room wasn’t the original venue. He’s adaptable though, having been doing versions of this show for a few years now, here and abroad. It’s just the Brexit bit that evolves—or devolves—along the way, as the new Berliner worries about his own free-movement.
There is also a random bit about public transport towards the end, which takes the show on an unnecessary diversion, but otherwise this is a well-worked hour with a worth-heeding message.