Come Look at the Baby

Whether it’s a joke, an ingenious way to make money from babysitting or a clever piece of performance art, Come Look at the Baby is a genuine pleasure.

A chubby child with a shining smile that drips with spit sits on its granny’s knee, and, we watch. We coo, laugh and gasp as if at a fireworks display. We are utterly in the palm of its plump little hand, and though clueless that it's the centre of a show—in this particular performance at least—it seems to enjoy every second.

Music lulls us as the anonymous baby giggles, gurgles, chews, bites and dribbles. Though it is the most ordinary of scenes, this feels like we’re being let into a secret. It provides an almost therapeutic opportunity to escape the chaos of the Fringe and to reflect on a period of life that disappears so quickly.

The audience comes out beaming as wide as the baby has been, a shared tenderness between us. In this terrifying world, Come Look at the Baby is a bubble of protection, a display of a life as yet unharmed. It is an honour to simply watch a patient grandmother play with her growing grandchild, teaching it and talking to it, oozing with adoration. It’s all we all want isn’t it, to be loved?

In the context of the Fringe, this show is a delight. Outside of this chaotic festival however, watching a cute baby is something audiences might rather reserve for paid babysitting.