The Kransky Sisters: We Don't Have Husbands, Assembly Rooms <!-- none onestar twostar threestar fourstar fivestar -->

Bob Flynn
Thursday 17 August 2006 19:00 EDT
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They scuttle sideways like nervous crabs, three dour Australian spinsters identically dressed in high-necked blouses and wide black skirts from the 1950s. With long black hair and faces plastered with waxy embalmer's make-up, they recall the fuzzy apparition of the Blair Witch.

Welcome to the creepy world of the Kransky Sisters, a trio fast becoming a cult hit among the burgeoning musical-comedy strand of this year's Fringe.

Purportedly hailing from the remote Queensland community of Esk, Mourne, Eve and Arva live in isolated, bickering bliss. They have never married and two of them finish each other's sentences, whispering about the third, a plump tuba-player who was born to their uncle and isn't allowed to speak.

Playing songs gleaned from the kitchen wireless, the Kranskys plunge into hilarious warped renditions of everything from Simon & Garfunkel to Sugababes, alternating between keyboard, tuba and musical saw, while battering tambourines like evangelists.

Dark tales of their abused childhood are delivered deadpan, then they launch into AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" and Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer", complete with yodelling chorus.

The success of the show - conceived by Annie Lee, Christine Johnston and Michele Watt - lies in the precision of the music and a narrative that lures the audience, rocking with laughter, into a totally unsavoury, insular world.

To 28 August (0131-226 2428)

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