The Imitator ★★★

Continuing the Fringe theme of what it takes to pay tribute to an artist that began this year with I Am Your Tribute, Julián Fontalvo doesn’t merely homage one musical superstar in his show, The Imitator – as the title of the show may suggest, he imitates 70 superstar voices!

Beginning the show listening to a radio, Fontalvo declares that he “feels like I’m travelling back in time…because of these sounds” before surfing the airwaves and plunging into a warm pool of 80s and 90s nostalgia. His Sting is note perfect, Rick Astley on the money and Bryan Adams’ Everything I Do (I Do It For You) is uncanny. And so, his skill for inhabiting and recreating the singing styles of a range of global singing superstars is presented in dizzying, quick succession.

Julián Fontalvo’s talent for vocal mimicry is unquestionable. He can conjure up singers as if they were in the room. And not just the most obvious names. Singing You’re Beautiful, he navigates the strange nooks and crannies of James Blunt’s voice, coupled with his challenging falsetto. Jon Bon Jovi’s rock growl is superbly replicated and even the sense of danger and impatience of Eminem’s Lose Yourself is present and correct.

But, in an hour-long show, talent alone is not enough. His skills need a hook on which to hang and the show requires a foundation to showcase Fontalvo’s talent for imitation. The poster reads “1 Singer, 70 Voices and a story to tell”. The story in question involves growing up in South America, heading to New York to follow his dreams but finding his future wife and following her to Europe. Sadly it is so pedestrian and self-satisfied that any momentum and interest is automatically flattened. He evokes his Latino upbringing channeling his neighbour and his mother in a clichéd diversion that manages to be neither funny nor interesting. In an overlong and baffling interlude, he performs Bohemian Rhapsody not in the voice of Freddie Mercury but in his own and his mother’s voices, changing the lyrics to represent this coming of age domestic drama with lines like “liar, you’ve been drinking beer” and “you’ll always be my guide!” Mawkish doesn’t begin to describe it.

There’s something so saccharine about the narrative that you begin to suspect that cynical Brits might not be this show’s primary target audience. His rendition of We Are The World, a song not as embedded in the British psyche as Do They Know It’s Christmas, is meant to be a centre piece as Fontalvo switches from singer to singer – but while his take on Bruce Springsteen, Willie Nelson and Michael Jackson impress, the UK audience will be left floundering at whether his James Ingram, Al Jarreau or Huey Lewis are accurate.

Frustratingly, shorn from any engaging narrative, it is too easy to start getting picky about the more European impressions. Performing The Proclaimers in front of an Edinburgh audience is brave but barring a couple of errant vowel sounds, it’s not bad at all. On the other hand, Robbie Williams is mercifully fleeting and Amy Winehouse is unrecognisable. Regional quirks are unheard with his attempt at Essex’s Dave Gahan or Crawley’s Robert Smith. While the finale soars because of his choice of song, his Piaf will only wow if you’ve never heard the Little Sparrow yourself. We regretted quite a lot.