DAY 16: Animated screens and animated streets provide for a lively start to the weekend

What happens when what started on the “fringe” takes centrestage?

It becomes a global celebration of everything art. For 78 years, the cobblestones of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe have witnessed the move of the margin to the mainstream. …And this year, it will also give volume to the 50 curated climate narratives that refuse to stay silent.

Storyteller and Arts Enthusiast Himali Kothari reports from Edinburgh.

DAY 16:

The townsfolk are at odds with each other. Negativity and anger are at their peak. Our hero is on a mission—to bring peace amongst the warring factions. He and his dog set a plan into motion, but alas, it fails, and calamity strikes, leaving the dog’s life hanging (quite literally) in balance. And voilà! The townspeople cast their differences aside and come together to save the dog. But will this unity prevail? That remains to be seen.

This is the plot of a short animated film They, but it feels as if the social media reels from the situation in Delhi have galvanised and metamorphosed into this gem of a film.

They is one of the ten animated shorts that are part of the ‘EIFF: Animation Shorts’ event. Like the Edinburgh International Festival and the Fringe, the Edinburgh International Film Festival (EIFF) too started in 1947 and is the world’s oldest continually running film festival. Initially a documentary film festival, the EIFF began including Hollywood films in the 1960s. Over time, several new initiatives were integrated—retrospectives were introduced, films by female directors were highlighted, new partnerships were formed… Despite financial struggles compounded by the Covid crisis, the Festival kept going.

In 2024, the EIFF moved to August, placing itself in the period of multiple cultural offerings in Edinburgh. It also entered into a collaboration with the Fringe, which opened up access to more venues, including some not usually associated with film screenings. This may well have been the shot in the arm the EIFF needed, for when I walk into the retro red velvet, gilded Cameo Theatre, it is packed to the gills.

The ten films that make up the programme vary in animation style and content. Generation gap, environment, living in harmony, and even a meatball-and-spaghetti tale of separation and reconciliation… a variety of topics are tackled with the ease and playfulness that comes with animation. The 90-minute show is a great start to the weekend.

The sun is out. It is the weekend. The Fringe and four other cultural showcases are on display. Summer vacays are on. All this means that the streets are heaving with pedestrian traffic. I am half-convinced that Monday morning will see the cobblestones gleaming, buffed to shine by millions of footsteps.

Before I reached Edinburgh, my Insta feed had thrown up a few videos showing the masses of crowds in the city. The headlines and commentary of those videos seemed designed to turn visitors away. As I make my way down the Royal Mile, the warnings seem to ring true. Yet, as I weave through families with prams, couples hand-in-hand, and bachelorettes in matching t-shirts, I can feel the general bonhomie in the air. There is an unhurried pace, almost as if everyone has entered into a pact to keep things down to a stroll in the park. I, too, fall in line.

Weekends bring with them the weekend market. Grassmarket Market in Grassmarket Square, located at the foot of Edinburgh Castle, is one of the many open-air markets that pop up on weekends, especially during summer.

Since its origins in the 14th century, the location has been a setting for markets. In its early years, cattle, horses, and other livestock were traded here. A description from some three centuries later paints it as a hub where wholesalers brought a variety of goods—from metals to crops to wood. Today, it reflects the make-up of the city and the Market’s raison d’être: a good time for both locals and tourists.

Stalls selling tartan socks, bags and wallets, jewellery by local artisans, knitted apparel for babies, and vintage records stand bunched together. Pop-up food stalls from some of the city’s restaurants testify to the international range of cuisines Edinburgh offers. Spanish tapas, Ethiopian curries with injera bread, dumplings and gyozas, and almonds and pistachios cooking in sugary cinnamon syrup are just some of the aromas that assail the senses, making one wish for four stomachs like a cow. Alas, one must settle for the trusted eenie-meenie-mo to decide. Thankfully, the aromas promise that no choice would be a wrong choice.

When the idea of the Edinburgh International Festival was first floated more than seven decades ago, it was meant to serve as a common ground to enrich the culture of Europe, UK and Scotland. Rudolf Bing, the GM of a Sussex-based opera festival who conceived the concept believed that it would also work as a salve on the wounds that the hard years of war had on.
The performing arts have evolved since, as has its audience and while they may be considered as means to turn away from the daily rigmarole, they have also become the mirror to all that ails the world and provoke action to address it.