Geek Native is based in Edinburgh, which means August is usually a quiet month for the blog. We are typically buried under a mountain of notebooks, rushing between venues to write for our sister site, Edinburgh Reviews, and covering the city’s massive festival explosion.
Sometimes, though, there is a perfect overlap between our local festival chaos and the world of tabletop and speculative fiction. That is exactly what happens when an alien lands in town. This August, we are tracking the arrival of Blip Blarp: An Alien Love Story, a bold solo show premiering at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. The comedy-spectacle follows a galactic overachiever who lands on Earth to conquer the planet and produce 1,000 offspring, only to find herself completely thwarted by the horrors of modern human dating.
We sat down with creator and performer Alicia to talk about physical comedy, navigating the late-night Fringe crowd, and hot-button industry topics like using generative AI in live performance.
The Interview
Blip Blarp takes a classic science fiction trope, the alien invader aiming to conquer the planet through repopulation, and drops it directly into the unpredictable landscape of modern dating. What was the original creative spark that made you realise science fiction and physical clowning were the ideal lenses through which to examine human intimacy?
It’s a mix of personal motivation and “theatrical academia” that led me to choose this lens. Personal, in that I am going through the process of divorce and dating for the first time in over a decade. No idea what I’m doing or how to attract a mate. (For example in my twenties my standard was: has job, now that I’m an American living in France my standard is: speaks English, doesn’t sneeze too loud) So, I definitely feel like I’m entering an alien world. I also personally love sci-fi and physical theatre is my thing. I love dance, mime, etc. So that was a natural choice.
Academic, in that there is a type of clown in the physical theatre world called ‘bouffon’. You may already be familiar, but the origin story of the bouffon told to us at clown school goes that a group of people in the middle ages were relegated to the outskirts outside the city’s walls because they were weird or deformed, and that once a year they would return from the marshes – hunchbacked, legless, strange, alien – and enter the walls of the city, and with their deformity ridicule the inhabitants of the town, including the king or mayor, etc. They ridiculed the king so vehemently that he died in the street.
In practice, the use of an alien or stranger is key for bouffon if you want to cast light or poke fun at your audience without losing them. A popular modern example is Sacha Baron Cohen’s “Borat” whose strange foreignness allows him to ridicule and provoke modern society, including its leaders, without losing his audience.
Though Blip Blarp is not as provocatively bouffon as Borat or other bouffons, her alien-ness allows her to make fun of modern dating and human intimacy without seeming bitter or haggard.
Premiering a solo show at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe is a demanding logistical and physical undertaking, particularly when occupying a late-night slot at Just The Tonic’s Mash House. How does the specific energy of a 23:15 audience influence how you pace the physical comedy and control the room?
In France, the drink you take after dinner is called “Le Digestif”. That’s how I would define this piece. It’s not a morning breakfast for children, or a contemplative lunch, it’s something you want after a heady depth dinner. Something amusing, fun, sexy to send you to sleep. So the 11:15 crowd is perfect in that they want to laugh, relax, they want to think about sex and love etc. They want a digestif, and this is what I aim to offer. Something silly, sexy, and a bit touching.
There is of course a fear of rowdiness from the late night crowd, but I’m hoping they’ll be absorbed in the strangeness of the alien elements, the design, mime, and dances. The play also moves along at a fast clip, which I think will be helpful at this hour.
You have been admirably transparent about utilising generative AI to assist in creating and editing the multimedia video elements for this production. Given how intensely contested the use of AI is within the broader artistic and design communities right now, what was your personal philosophical boundary when deciding what to automate and what to hand-craft?
The boundary was easy because it was set for me. AI is not perfect. Asking advice from chatgpt is one thing. Asking it to make videos that are in my speific comedic style so that I can perform with them in my weird one woman show is another. It takes double the effort to get Ai to do what you want it to do in terms of editing etc. than it would be to do it myself, so that part was easy to decide. I had it generate images, and then I edited and added music.
But perhaps one day AI will be good enough to do those things. And at that moment, I don’t know what I would do exactly, but I know I love to create art, write, perform because I actually love it. So I will continue to do the things I love because I love doing them and in my own voice with my vision, and outsource the tasks that I’m terrible at doing until I can hire a real flesh and blood person to take on that role.
Finally, in terms of the contentious reception of AI within the theatre realm, I think my audiences have so far accepted my use of Ai either because it works well within the sci-fi framework or because the Ai is so obviously Ai that the Ai almost makes fun of itself. This not only adds a layer of comedy but allows people to see the silly weirdness of Ai generated content in its current state.
From a practical, technical standpoint, how did these machine-learning tools integrate into your solo workflow? Did the technology allow you to achieve an expansive, cinematic visual scale for your alien universe that would otherwise be financially out of reach for an independent Fringe production?
Yes, exactly. That’s it.
Live theatre relies heavily on spontaneity, particularly within the traditions of clowning and audience interaction, whereas video projections are traditionally fixed and rigid. How do you prevent the multimedia elements from locking your performance into too strict a digital grid?
Overall the answer is a very good relationship with the stage tech. They are absolutely vital to the success of this show.
But generally, I work with the projection, not against it. For example – potenital spoiler alert – a character in the show, Jeff, does not believe Blip Blarp is from planet Zoron. Eventually we touch so that Blip Blarp can make an ‘exchange transmission of identity markers’ whereby she ‘touches’ his hand – he is not physically there, one assumes he is present through mime – and she makes an elaborate physical movement and then the screen flashes with all these images of planet Zoron, and then Jeff beleives Blip Blarp. So the projection is really integrated into the performance.
Both science fiction and burlesque rely heavily on distinct visual world-building and the subversion of audience expectations. In what way does the extraterrestrial persona of Blip Blarp allow you to push the boundaries of traditional burlesque choreography, and how do those physical transitions mirror her internal emotional state?
I don’t want to give away too much about the story, but basically I use burlesque – the sexiness, the silliness, the surprise – as a form of mating ritual which Blip Blarp employs to attract a mate. I created ‘alienesque’ movement to the burlesque form and the form gives itself well to sultry comedy. Essentialy burlesque is used as an earnest way for Blip Blarp to attract a male – first her alien mating ritual dance, then her attempt at what she believes a human male would enjoy – with varying results (you have to see the show :) )
Your artistic background beautifully bridges the gap between Chicago comedy training and European physical theatre, whilst living and working in France. How do these distinct regional traditions manifest in the show? Does the narrative rely more heavily on the spoken script, or on a universal physical vocabulary?
It’s completely and fully integrated as both. There is – I believe, I hope – a happy integrated mix of movement and dialogue – both in the comedic monologue sense and the sketch sense – while also blending dance, mime, and physical comedy to world build and move from place to place fluidly.
There is an ongoing, vital conversation regarding the financial accessibility of the Edinburgh Fringe for international artists. As an American creator navigating the logistics of bringing a multimedia-heavy show to Scotland, what unique hurdles did you face, and how can the festival infrastructure better support independent makers?
Oh boy, it’s difficult to say which hurdles were unique to me as everyone is extremely guarded in disclosing how they were able to afford perfmoring at Edinburgh. But I’ll put it out there – I used a portion of my divorce settlement to get to Edinburgh. (I wish I knew what you were thinking).
In general though, I think the problem with affording Edinburgh is manifold. There are so many issues with the financial infrastructure and support from the festival for international (and UK) performers trying to perform there. Everyone knows this, but the festival has become such a money making behemoth, what impetus would they have to adjust? Therefore, I think the rest of the world and the funding coming from artistic grants within specific countries should aknowledge the importance of Edinburgh and allow funding for artists to get to that specific festival (where currently funding bodies are so insular they seldom fund artists going to festivals outside their country, city, etc regardless of how vital it is for the survival, oppurtunity, and exposure for the artist).
At its core, the production uses an outsider’s perspective to look at very grounded human vulnerabilities – rejection, mixed signals, and the desire to be understood. What has creating a character who completely misjudges human intimacy taught you about our current cultural landscape of digital detachment?
So much is dictated and assumed about what or how people think based on the most extreme voices in our society. We make assumptions about a person because they agree with a detail of some outspoken extremist figurehead (left or right). But it’s not all or nothing, and I think that’s the biggest takeaway. We’re forgetting that people are complex, strange, living with their own experiences and moral compasses.
This applies to intimacy as well. Women are told men only want these things. Men are told women only want those things. But no one really knows, so what happens when you go all the way with the assumption of what you think someone wants based on what you’ve discovered online? What happens when someone genuinely likes you but they’re hesitant for reasons that are ‘offline’ or personal? I explore this in the show.
When the festival wraps up on August 30th, and the spaceship departs, what is the core realisation or feeling you hope the audience takes away with them after spending an hour in Blip Blarp’s company?
That they are not alone. That no matter who you are or where you sit, love is hard and makes you feel deeply vulnerable. I make myself completly vulnerable in this piece, and I’m hoping the audience feels first immersed in the nuance of the world and then cathartic. Because it’s hard for everyone. We’re here in the theatre together, laughing about our mutual vulnerabilities. I want them to have had a nice digestif.
Beyond your own production, the independent creative scene thrives on mutual support. Are there any fellow Fringe creators, local companies, or specific science fiction books and authors you would recommend our readers explore, and where is the best place for people to follow your ongoing journey?
Defintely Voloz Collective which will be doing two shows at Edinburgh this year. They’re very talented, and hugely supportive of other artists.
Regarding inspiration, I’m so inspired by the bold artistic visions and storytelling of Ursula K LeGuinn, Jodorowsky, David Lynch, and Tim Burton as well as the comedic stylings of Jennifer Saunders, Joanna Lumley, and Key and Peele. Would definitely recommend Jodorowsky’s graphic novels if you’re not already familiar. I also really loved Saga.
For bouffon, the Red Bastard has really set the highest standard for theatrical bouffon in the past decade. Though he’s performing less now as he’s gotten older.
Best place to continue to follow me is on instagram @aliciadqueen. In addition to creating this show, I have also been making little videos where I wonder about Paris as Blip Blarp and do street improv. Check it out!
Catch the Show
“Blip Blarp: An Alien Love Story” runs during the Edinburgh Festival Fringe at Just the Tonic at The Mash House (Venue 288) in the Just the Bottle Room. The show takes place at 23:15 from August 6th through August 30th (excluding Monday, August 17th). Tickets and venue information can be found directly on the Edinburgh Fringe Box Office.
