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Here’s Your Definitive Guide to Edinburgh Fringe 2026 (you’re welcome)

Right: Edinburgh Fringe.

Chichester Festival Theatre, Curve in Leicester and Belfast’s Lyric Theatre are all bringing shows to this year’s Fringe as part of Pleasance’s Edinburgh National Partnerships scheme, but best of the bunch is Badgers.

Sherman Theatre is backing something equally compelling in Amnesia, a one-woman show about a care worker living in Rhyl, written and performed by Kimberly Hart-Simpson, directed by Kate Wasseberh and produced by Hat Trick Productions with Theatr Clwyd.


Shedinburgh is back too, this time at Assembly Checkpoint from 7–30 August. Bryony Kimmings’ brilliant one-woman show Sex Idiot — inspired by her discovery that she’d contracted chlamydia — is a highlight, and the purpose-built venue will also host work-in-progress shows from Rosie Jones, Sara Pascoe, Lorna Rose Treen, Mischief, Sabrina Mahfouz, Nick Helm and Sh!t Theatre.

At The Space on Niddry Street, two shows sit well together: Without Compromise Theatre’s Collateral Damage follows three women trying to reconnect after trauma tears their family apart, confronting grief, silence and whether some wounds ever truly heal, while Shark Bait Theatre’s Hope This Helps! at the Space takes a lighter tack, satirising wellness culture and life online through five eccentric internet addicts attempting a digital detox.


Over at the Traverse, the season leans into world, UK and European premieres alongside co-productions from Scottish and international theatre-makers, staged across both auditoria and partner venues around the city.

In my opinion, the centrepiece is Cathy, written and directed by Eilidh Loan, which marks Elaine C Smith’s return to the Traverse main stage after 26 years. (Full disclosure: I will be working with the team on this show – but it is a lovely, tender piece of new writing) Anyway. Smith plays a widow navigating grief and family tension in the run-up to Christmas, alongside Alan Orr, Sally Reid and Michele Gallagher.


For something more random, the Gilded Balloon (15–31 August, 1pm) has A Man Proposes to a Balloon, Or Possibly Something Worse — a dark comedy that does exactly what it says on the tin. Elsewhere, Liberace & Liza – A Tribute arrives at the Fringe after a West End run at the Harold Pinter, and Goodbye Dandelion — recipient of the inaugural Underbelly Futures Fund Award — brings a humorous, moving new work from writer-performer Maddie Rice and composer Marcus Rice.

At Underbelly Cowgate’s Iron Belly (5–30 August, daily 15:40), Bailey Edwards’ darkly comic Play Dead follows Echo, devastated by a breakup and convinced that kidnapping his ex’s dog is somehow a good idea. Over at the Palais du Variété in Assembly George Square Gardens, magician Ben Hart — of Britain’s Got Talent, Killer Magic and The One Show fame — returns with The Labyrinth, a dark, funny and astonishing journey into the hidden patterns that shape our lives.

Also worth a look: Lil Wenker’s brand-new clown horror comedy Boyking, taking aim at unchecked greed and the pathological pursuit of power.

For nightlife crossover, Relish Theatre’s Acid’s Reign — part club night, part cabaret — runs at Forth, Pleasance Courtyard, throughout August. Nearby, Sad Bride offers a queer, dark comedy drawn from real experiences of the wedding industry, exploring the pressure of performing womanhood online.

And at Pleasance Courtyard: Beyond (5–31 August, 9:30pm), Elf Lyons — winner of the 2025 Sky Arts Award for Comedy — brings The Woman on the Edge, inspired by the breakdown of her engagement while she was alone on tour in Australia, still expected to walk onstage every night and entertain as though nothing was happening.


Don’t miss Alice Fraser’s Oh Man! — sharp, whip-smart comedy at Monkey Barrel’s O’Neill’s (The Tron) that’s well worth the trip.


For something more classic, Stockard Channing directs David Westhead in Samuel Beckett’s darkly humorous Krapp’s Last Tape at Upstairs at The Roxy, 2 Roxburgh Place.
Over at Gilded Balloon at the Museum, Celebrity First Dates star Tom Read Wilson performs his quirky The A-Z of Me, while Gilded Balloon’s Patter House hosts Benjamin Quirk’s Twink Death, travelling all the way from Perth, Australia.

If you missed it last year, see Flo & Joan’s One Man Musical at Pleasance Beyond — a delicious skewering of Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber. For a late-night laugh, Underbelly Cowgate (9:55pm) has Moon Team IIIV, a one-man multimedia comedy sci-fi odyssey from BBC New Comedian Award semi-finalist Will BF.
And rounding things off, You and Me (and Whoever Comes Next) is the winner of the Summerhall Mary Dick Award and supported by Hall for Cornwall and it unpacks the complex relationship between a disabled person and their carer.


I am looking forward to being back in Scotland – this year at the start of the bananas festival.


In any event, I hope you have found some use in this guide to what the Fringe world has on offer —and share your tips.


Bye for now,


Carl x

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Edinburgh Fringe 2025 – recap

Hello reader,

Ticket sales at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe have stalled for the first time since Covid restrictions were lifted, breaking the trend of year-on-year growth.

In 2025, a total of 2,604,404 tickets were sold for 53,942 performances of 3,893 shows representing 62 countries. This marks a slight dip from 2024, when 2,612,913 tickets were sold across 3,746 shows.

Anyhow. Below are the shows that I saw during my week in Edinburgh.

Cheers!

Carl W x

Lost Lear – Traverse Theatre
Irish writer-director Dan Colley reimagines King Lear through the prism of dementia in this thoughtful, layered work. Joy (Venetia Bowe), a once-celebrated Dublin actor, now in advanced decline, clings to the illusion she is rehearsing Lear. Around her, nurses feed the fantasy with props and scripts, while her estranged son Conor (Gus McDonagh) struggles to reach her before it’s too late. Dementia, the UK’s leading cause of death, becomes both subject and metaphor here, explored with precision and tenderness. Though the supporting cast is sparse, Bowe’s uncompromising performance anchors the piece, balancing fragility and force with remarkable conviction.

She’s Behind You – Traverse Theatre
Johnny McKnight’s one-man dive into the world of pantomime is at once dazzling and slippery, constantly shifting between sincerity and parody. On a glittery Wizard of Oz-inspired set, he charts his journey from “silly billy” comic turns to thirty seasons as a dame. Panto, often overlooked, is reframed here as both cultural cornerstone and survival strategy in an era of budget cuts and shifting values. McKnight moves deftly through memory, critique, and camp excess, reminding us that pantomime is ever-evolving—an art form that mirrors its times. The late-night crowd adored it, swept up by McKnight’s wit, craft, and resilience.

Suburbia – Summerhall
Jonny Woo, legendary queer performance artist, lays himself bare in Suburbia, an autobiographical cabaret stitched with sequins, scars, and searing honesty. From suburban childhood to New York nightlife, Woo charts a life of desire, danger, and dazzling survival. His reflections on HIV, delivered with luminous clarity, are deeply affecting, while every self-penned song carries the sting of confession. By turns filthy, frank, and fiercely funny, Woo commands the stage with both mischief and vulnerability. The shocking, hilarious finale—heels, nudity, firecracker—lands as a gleeful act of defiance. This is queer storytelling at its boldest: messy, joyful, and utterly unforgettable.

A Gambler’s Guide to Dying – Traverse Theatre
Gary McNair’s solo play returns a decade on, still brimming with warmth and wit. Told through the eyes of a grandson, it recounts the tale of a grandfather who gambles against the odds—betting he’ll survive cancer to see the millennium. McNair explores how stories shape reality, blending truth and invention into a meditation on family, mortality, and legacy. Old-fashioned storytelling may seem unfashionable, yet here it remains potent, tender, and funny. The play’s bittersweet reminder—that we echo on through genes and stories—is beautifully delivered. Not earth-shattering, perhaps, but a quietly profound hour, well worth revisiting.

Orpheus and Eurydice – Edinburgh International Festival
Gluck’s Orpheus and Eurydice receives an ambitious reinvention, blending Scottish Chamber Orchestra, Scottish Opera chorus, and the acrobatic daring of Circa. Director Yaron Lifschitz sets the myth within a stark asylum, where grief blurs reality. Acrobats embody Orpheus’s turmoil with dizzying feats, sometimes dazzling, occasionally distracting. Countertenor Iestyn Davies anchors the production with an exquisitely restrained performance, his “Che farò senza Euridice” devastating in its intimacy. Samantha Clarke’s Eurydice/Amor is radiant, her soprano both playful and aching. Laurence Cummings drives the score with urgency, matched by the chorus’s precision. Bold, sometimes bewildering, but undeniably powerful, this Orpheus lingers long after.

Trouble, Struggle, Bubble and Squeak – Pleasance Courtyard
Victoria Melody’s solo piece, directed by Mark Thomas, blends personal storytelling, agitprop, and playful re-enactment to explore land, food, and community power. Drawing on her residency in a Brighton housing estate and her Civil War re-enactment group, she revisits the 17th-century Diggers, radicals who demanded shared control of common resources. Melody’s felt vegetables and period costume may appear whimsical, but beneath the humour lies sharp political intent. Though rough-edged in performance, the show is purposeful, hopeful, and disarmingly warm. Melody embodies “mission drift” not as a flaw, but as a radical necessity—feeding resilience, autonomy, and the seeds of rebellion.

Method in My Madness (One Man Hamlet) – Assembly Square
Sam Blythe’s Hamlet is no solemn soliloquy but a restless tussle with Shakespeare’s text, filtered through clowning, Welsh identity, and familial grief. Locked in a sparse room, a script, clown noses, and a Welsh dragon sticker are his tools. He stumbles through iconic scenes, interrupted by a disembodied voice in Welsh—part nurse, part mother—that destabilises his performance and re-roots him in vulnerability. It’s uneven, sometimes jagged, but at its best it’s a dialogue with the audience rather than a monologue. Dedication to his late father adds poignancy. Not the subtlest Hamlet, but a fiercely human one—raw, messy, alive.

Lunartic – Cabaret Voltaire
Lucy Pearman’s midday slice of mayhem is a lunar-themed joyride that demands—and earns—full audience commitment. Clad in a metallic pop-up tent, she flits between moon gags, alien encounters, and planet-audience participation. The crowd become the solar system; blackout moments invite them to literally shed light on the story. At times the chaos tips into repetition, but Pearman’s energy, timing, and contagious warmth keep the room orbiting her imagination. Equal parts absurdist romp and heartfelt confession, Lunartic is witty, anarchic, and oddly moving. Pearman’s playful curiosity transforms silliness into wonder, proving that clowning, at its best, feels like oxygen.

Fly, You Fools! – Pleasance Courtyard
US troupe Recent Cutbacks compress Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy into a breathless, hilarious hour. With no elaborate costumes and only the barest props, performers Nick Abeel, Kyle Schaefer, and Regan Sims conjure Middle-earth through physical precision and endless invention. Kelly Robinson’s live Foley—coconuts, laptops, and a bag of tricks—becomes a fourth performer, giving the show sonic magic. Director Kristin McCarthy Parker keeps momentum high, while James Appleby’s lighting adds cinematic flair. The finale’s miniature silhouettes delight film buffs, though the relentless shouting can grate. Still, the sold-out audience roared approval. An affectionate, chaotic parody, packed with charm.

Youth in Flames – Assembly
Mimi Martin’s debut one-woman play is a blistering act of witness, set against the Hong Kong extradition protests. Drawing on her own upbringing there, she filters political upheaval through the eyes of Millie, daughter of British expats, whose perspective widens as the city fractures around her. Martin’s performance is both raw and precise, her wide-eyed energy holding the audience rapt as she evokes unity, resistance, and disintegration. What begins as personal reminiscence swells into collective testimony, making theatre and activism inseparable. Urgent, nuanced, and unflinchingly human, Youth in Flames burns with courage and empathy. A remarkable, electric Fringe debut.

Wonder Twunk – Underbelly
Lachlan Werner’s Wonder Twunk is a gothic carnival of clowning, ventriloquism, and queer theatre, co-starring circus strongman Jack Hammer. A “twunk”—twink face, hunk body—Werner spins grotesque characters, from a spectral father to a sea lion named Lippy, through a fever-dream aesthetic somewhere between Tim Burton and drag cabaret. Beneath the grotesquery lurks loneliness, twisted into hilarity and dread. Laurie Luxe’s direction lets Werner’s sharp audience play shine; he’s wicked, quick, and magnetic. Not every set piece lands—the Essex-Hun spirit sequence drags—but the invention and commitment are staggering. Strange, funny, and defiantly original: Werner is a talent to watch.

I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar – Underbelly Cowgate
Holly Redford Jones’s one-woman show is part musical comedy, part queer confessional, inspired by Jonathan Richman’s cult song. With wit and warmth, she recounts her coming-out journey—from awkward prayers beneath Chesterfield’s crooked spire to discovering joy and belonging in Edinburgh’s last lesbian bar. Armed with acoustic guitar and dryly funny patter (“Fuck the patriarchy—but quietly, with noise-cancelling headphones”), Jones creates a safe, celebratory space that feels inclusive and authentic. It’s a playful tribute to disappearing queer venues, and a gentle reminder of why physical spaces for community still matter. Endearingly odd, genuinely heartfelt, and quietly radical.

Whale, Where Are You Going? – Assembly
This Taiwanese gem is a miniature marvel of puppetry and theatrical invention. A lonely old man and a curious child embark on a search for a whale, their journey unfolding through shadow play, tabletop puppetry, and ingenious stagecraft. Paper planes soar, waves engulf the stage, and finally a vast blue whale fills the walls—a breathtaking reveal. The small puppetry team animate the boy with extraordinary delicacy, drawing gasps from young audiences and adults alike. With humour, wonder, and deft audience interaction, it’s theatre that awakens curiosity. Another highlight of the Taiwan season, proving children’s theatre can be magical and profound.

Elon Musk: Lost in Space – theSpace
David Morley’s satirical take on Musk imagines the billionaire stranded in orbit with only an evolving AI “mum” for company. The premise has comic potential—visions, Trump phone-ins, even a Mick Jagger cameo—but it never gels. The script lacks structure and wit, leaning instead on half-baked impressions and surreal non-sequiturs. Even absurdist satire requires a strong spine, and here disbelief collapses under the weight of randomness. What could have been a sharp lampoon of tech messianism drifts off course. Instead of a rocket-fuelled send-up, this is a space flight to nowhere. Musk may be lost, but so is the show.

Motor Home Marilyn – Gilded Balloon
Michelle Collins makes her Fringe debut as Denise, a Marilyn Monroe tribute act living out of a motorhome. Ben Weatherill’s script, inspired by a real figure, balances comic one-liners with glimpses of loneliness and grit. Collins delivers moments of poignancy—her rendition of River of No Return is unexpectedly moving—but the characterisation never fully blossoms. The humour often feels grafted on rather than arising naturally, leaving stretches of inertia. Collins captures Denise’s determination but not the sparkle that would make us root for her. Imperfect yet intriguing, Motor Home Marilyn is a patchwork piece: flawed, uneven, but oddly compelling.

Jeezus! – Underbelly
An Untapped Award winner, Jeezus! is a queer musical romp about a Peruvian boy discovering both sexuality and sacrilege. Performers Sergio Antonio Maggiolo and Guido Garcia Lueches throw themselves into this brisk two-hander, blending camp parody songs with a playful skewering of religious dogma. Its cheeky central conceit—Jesús falls for Jesus—works as both pun and provocation, though the satire rarely digs beneath surface jokes. The music charms more than dazzles, and the story feels slight, but the show’s heart is big, bold, and joyfully queer. With sharper writing, it could be a cult favourite; as is, it’s spirited, scrappy fun.

Refuse – Assembly Square
Lucy McIlgorm’s Refuse (the title punning on both rubbish and resistance) begins as a warm portrait of a Ukrainian community and its genial binman, Maks, before darkening into a meditation on invasion and survival. Vasyl Sydorko delivers a compelling central performance, supported nimbly by McIlgorm and Maria Shtofa, who slip between multiple roles with wit and clarity. Anastazie Toros’s direction makes resourceful use of minimal props—a wheelie bin, a door, scraps of clothing. At times, the tonal shift from gentle comedy to looming threat feels abrupt, but the play’s closing devastation resonates powerfully. A funny, tender, chillingly timely three-hander.

BAIRNS – Pleasance Bunker
Annie Davison’s one-woman show explores surrogacy through the sharp-tongued voice of Lottie, a surrogate navigating hormones, sisterhood, and conflicting impulses. With cheeky wit, sweary humour, and direct audience address, Davison keeps energy high, even if the character never quite gains full depth. The script’s straightforwardness limits dramatic tension, but it’s peppered with amusing asides and moments of raw honesty. Most affecting is the tension between legality and emotion: the child is technically Lottie’s until birth, a fact that haunts her growing attachment. Part stand-up, part monologue, BAIRNS is rough-edged but heartfelt—a messy, funny, touching portrayal of complicated love.

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A Rebuttal to Pessimism About Edinburgh Fringe

THERE’S a song in Hello, Dolly! that I always think about when times are bleak: ‘Put on Your Sunday Clothes’.

Out there
There’s a world outside of Yonkers
Way out there beyond this hick town, Barnaby
There’s a slick town, Barnaby

Since 1947, the Edinburgh Festival and Fringe have stood as the world’s largest and most influential arts gatherings.
Together, they sell more tickets than any global event except the Olympics and the World Cup. For artists and audiences alike, the Fringe is an overwhelming feast: with nearly 4,000 shows this year, even sprinting across cobbled streets from one venue to the next, you can’t escape the feeling you’re missing out on something extraordinary.

Lyn Gardner recently pointed out the uneven financial playing field between overseas and UK companies, noting that British productions often look stripped back compared to well-funded international shows. 

Gardner laments that “on the Fringe, you can see the bones, and you can see them crumbling.” She’s not wrong about the strain — rising costs, turbulent weather, and post-Brexit bureaucracy make staging theatre in Edinburgh more complex than ever. And yes, Oasis haven’t helped matters.

But here’s the problem: if we only dwell on scarcity and crisis, we risk pushing the next generation of artists into cynicism before they’ve even begun. Festivals thrive on possibility, not defeatism. When does this become clickbait? Have I contributed to this defeatism? 

Yes, the Fringe is flawed, but it remains one of the few platforms where a bold idea performed in a basement at midnight can lead to international tours, future collaborations, or even lifelong artistic partnerships. Many UK artists do receive invitations abroad because of their Edinburgh shows — proof that risk-taking here still pays off.

This rhetoric of decline also misses something crucial: the Fringe has always been a marketplace as much as a festival. Some shows will sparkle, some will falter, and that churn is not a sign of failure but of vitality. 

To pretend otherwise is to romanticise a past that never really existed. Even John McGrath, in his 1979 manifesto A Good Night Out, argued that theatre must meet audiences where they are — especially working-class audiences — with values different from the middle-class “ideal.” His words still resonate. 

‘There is a working-class audience for theatre which makes demands, and has values, which are different from those in our idealised middle-class audience’

The Fringe, messy and imperfect, is exactly the space where that kind of meeting can happen. (I am writing this from the Traverse Theatre bar, having just witnessed – Debbie Hannan, Nicholas McArtney & Tam Dean Burn read chapters from the seminal book).

It is also true that political leaders have long failed to treat the Fringe as the global cultural asset it is. As former Fringe Society CEO Shona McCarthy recently observed, no one would dream of hosting an Olympics or Commonwealth Games without adequate infrastructure. Yet the Fringe — an event of comparable scale — operates without the same level of central investment in transport, accommodation, or digital services. 

That’s not a reason to despair about the festival; it’s a reason to demand better support from government and policymakers.

Artists, too, might benefit from broadening their horizons. Obsession with a London transfer or a UK tour can feel parochial when the Fringe is already an international crossroads. As my conversations with Francesca Vitale (Fringe Milano) and Xela Batchelder (Pittsburgh Fringe) reminded me, you never know who is in your audience — or where your work might travel next.

What gives me hope is that Edinburgh is a place to take risks, to fail gloriously, to win unexpectedly. Yes, it can break your heart or your bank balance. But it can also open doors you never knew existed. It’s all about the encounter.

To reduce this sprawling, unpredictable festival to an elegy of decline is not only inaccurate — it risks smothering the very spirit that has made the Fringe a launchpad for generations of artists.

Without theatre our lives would be infinitely less colourful. 

I know now that the real question isn’t whether the Fringe is in crisis. The real question is: how do we ensure those fleeting encounters between artists and audiences — the very soul of the festival — continue to occur, surprise, and endure?

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Top Shows at Edinburgh Fringe 2025

THE Edinburgh Fringe remains one of the bedrocks of the British theatre — a sprawling, vibrant showcase where comedy giants, serious players, and first-timers collide. 

Running from August 1st to 24th, this year’s festival features over 3,500 shows, with appearances from beloved performers like Miriam Margolyes, Jenny Eclair, and Bill Bailey.

There are 325 free shows and 529 pay-what-you-can performances, reflecting the Fringe’s enduring democratic spirit — even as costs spiral.

And spiral they have. Venue rates are up, sponsorships are scarce, and more artists are questioning whether a full-run stint in Edinburgh is viable. Some say the Fringe is in peril. The truth? It’s been in peril before — and probably will be again. 

Indeed, many of the problems are those that beset British theatre more generally all year round.

But when your head’s spinning, your feet are aching, and you’ve clocked 20,000 steps, there’s no better place to feel the pulse of live performance than in Scotland’s capital. 

Even with Oasis (yes, really) and AC/DC gigs pulling in an additional 290,000 music fans later in August, the Fringe feels like it could go pop. Bonkers.

Anyway. I skipped it all last year — but this year? No one knows just what the future holds.

Kieran Hodgson: Voice of America

📍 Pleasance Courtyard
A master of the concept-comedy show, Hodgson returns with a Stateside theme. His previous works explored Lance Armstrong, Brexit, and Gaelic lessons — so expect insight, commitment, and gags. 

I love his consistently funny brain. 

Monstering the Rocketman

📍 Pleasance Dome
Elton John versus the tabloids. Henry Naylor’s gripping play dives into the infamous libel case that ended with a £1 million payout. Lol.

A Teen Odyssey

📍 Summerhall
An innovative, interactive piece for the TikTok generation. La Mecànica, using La Fura dels Baus’s Kalliópê app, explores identity and connection through smartphone-powered storytelling.

Tom at the Farm

📍 Pleasance at EICC
Michel Marc Bouchard’s play, reimagined in rural Brazil by Armando Babaioff, gains sharp relevance in a country where LGBTQ+ violence remains high.

The Butterfly Who Flew Into the Rave

📍 Summerhall
Queer, euphoric, physical, and pulsing with techno beats. A celebration of dancefloor resilience and the transformative power of community.

Hot Mess

📍 Pleasance Courtyard
From the team behind 42 Balloons, this eco-themed musical reimagines the climate crisis as a grand, messy breakup. Love, loss, and looming catastrophe — all set to music.

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Miles

📍 Summerhall
Trumpeter Jay Phelps joins a jazz-drama hybrid, bringing Kind of Blue to life. Benjamin Akintuyosi stars as Miles Davis in this evocative story of genius and legacy.

Celya AB: work in progress 

📍 Monkey Barrel 
Chortle Award winner, BBC New Comedy Award finalist — Celya AB is fast becoming a name to watch. Wry, stylish, and quietly subversive.

Make It Happen

📍 Festival Theatre (EIF)
Wallflower playwright James Graham tackles the collapse of the Royal Bank of Scotland in a high-stakes world premiere. A gripping chronicle of hubris, finance, and fallout. There are £10 on the day tickets, too.

How to Win Against History

📍 Underbelly, George Square
Seiriol Davies’s gloriously camp musical returns with a fresh lick of paint. Henry Paget, the fifth Marquess of Anglesey, dances back into the spotlight in this hilariously anachronistic, Monty Python-meets-G&S romp.

Ordinary Decent Criminal

📍 Summerhall
Mark Thomas reunites with England and Son playwright Ed Edwards for a raw new story about addiction, incarceration, and experimental reform in the post-Strangeways era.

Motorhome Marilyn

📍 Gilded Balloon
Michelle Collins makes her Fringe debut in this dark comedy inspired by a real-life encounter. Written by talented Ben Weatherill, it’s a sharp look at failure, fame, and faded dreams.

Happy Ending Street

📍 Leith Arches
Jenna Stone’s intimate, powerful drama centres on three sex workers in Edinburgh, each longing for escape. Gritty and heartfelt — a show with something to say

Club NVRLDN

📍 Assembly Checkpoint

Genius Jack Holden presents The Peter Pan story reimagined as an immersive millennial pop musical.

Lachlan Werner: Wonder Twunk

A circus ring of stunts, sea-lions, sci-fi, secrets and minimal lip movement

📍 Pleasance Dome

Eggs and Baskets

Era Theatre present the story of two Jewish girls in their 20s on a mission to achieve feminist perfection, but a series of man-shaped obstacles make their journey almost impossible.

📍The Space

If you have tips, tweet me: @mrcarl_woodward or leave a comment below *thumbs up emoji*.

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Edinburgh Fringe: Gush / Attachment: The Leech Show / Self Raising

There is usually a moment in a Fringe show, often after the first few minutes, when you start to relax. You are sure that you have a grip on it; all fear about making sense of things disappears.

It’s not so in Abby Vicky-Russell’s knotty but moving Gush, a photo of Prince Andrew looms Stage right. Pre-show, – a pulsing soundtrack loops: GUSH – GUSH GUSH – GUSH GUSH.

Then, a figure in a charcoal fluffy body suit and pink bob wig appears. Finally, I thought: showbiz!

Then it all stops.

Vicky-Russell re-enters playing Neil, a plumber from Yorkshire, who has been sent in to fix a leak on the set of the show that we are watching. Her physical comedy is top notch. 

Elsewhere, the resulting part stand up routine, part confessional play within a play gives the character Neil a mundane shimmer, and there are overtones of Victoria Wood in an expertly plotted visual gag involving a quiche and loads of table salt. Chaos. 

But, if anything, that overture understates the level of theatre sorcery going on here: Behind all this nonsense, a real-life, gruesomely compelling story emerges through a confessional monologue about abuse and father-daughter pain.

In any case, Gush, at Assembly packs some emotional punches and is an astonishingly unguarded piece – with a lot of potential – about the cruelties of abuse. 

Elsewhere, at Greenside I caught Attachment: The Leech Show – it’s ostensibly a slapstick piece about influential critic, Bob the Leech.

But only a very few of the gags get their laughs-and when slapstick goes flat, the effect is clunky.

This young company turn the stage into a zestful playground and give it all they have got, though the running gag makes it hard to conjure suspense – are critics really frustrated artists who never like anything? 

Yet in the final few minutes when Bob dies, the company come to the realisation that critics are just as vital to the industry as the artists that they observe.

This timely show strikes me as an enduring cult hit in the making.

Thirteen shows are deaf-led at Fringe this year, and one of those is Jenny Sealey’s lovely Self-Raising at Pleasance Dome.

“Secrets are easier to tell strangers. I work in theatre, that’s what we do.”

Well, quite.

This is an autobiographical play from disability-led company Graeae – alongside her “terp” (sign-language interpreter) where three generations of the Sealey family are unpacked.

Sealey set out to adapt Anne Fine’s book Flour Babies before real life took hold and she changed course. Opportunity and social mobility are underlying themes.

The narration is accompanied by captions, sign language and audio description, along with family pictures, video and voiceovers from Sealey’s son, Jonah. 

This show is beautifully put together, from the cunningly simple design by Anisha Field where three cupboards neatly double as the family kitchen and a darkroom and where family photos – and secrets are developed, to the simple lighting design by Emma Chapman.

There is almost too much here to be squeezed into the brief running time, but director Lee Lyford keeps things motoring.

Sealey and her co-writer Mike Kenny have delivered a charming story that is funny, graceful and fully accessible. Alas, it’s the subject rather than the staging that moves the emotions.

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Here’s Your Definitive Guide To Edinburgh Fringe 2023 (You’re Welcome)

The finest shows at Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Allegedly.

Hello to you,

I’ve been very well thanks for asking.

Anyway, with over 1 million tickets issued so far and thousands of people watching street performances and free shows; the 2023 Fringe is proving as popular as ever. 

I have pulled together a list of very good shows– and others that should be good.

First up: Spooky-but-silly sketch show Party Ghost is hilarious, I hear.

Queue for returns for All Inside by fourth-wall breaking Adrian Bliss– I think he is a surreal superstar – don’t miss him at The Pleasance.

You are in safe hands with Jenny Sealey, artistic director of disabled-led theatre company Graeae, who makes her stage debut in Self-raising, a hilarious true-life story about growing up Deaf.

Cross genre Frankie Thompson and Liv Ello: Body Show is riding high after a slew of five star reviews – snap up a ticket. The Ice Hole: A Cardboard Comedy, at Pleasance Courtyard, is a physical comedy show performed using a thousand pieces of cardboard, of course.

Anyhow. Make sure you catch hilarious Xhloe Rice and Natasha Roland in And Then the Rodeo Burned Down. If you missed Tony! The Tony Blair Rock Opera in London, catch it at the EICC; hour of knockabout fun with a spirited young cast. 

Meanwhile, I hear Dark Noon also at EICC is an extraordinary show co-directed by Denmark’s Tue Biering and South Africa’s Nhlanhla Mahlangu for Fix & Foxy.  Go and see Funeral(Ontroerend Goed does grief) at Zoo Southside.

Over at Traverse, don’t miss Isobel McArthur’s jukebox romcom The Grand Old Opera House Hotel and poignant play Heaven – both come highly recommended.

If you like musicals, God Catcher created by Cassie Muise and Tyler McKinnon, is a re-imagining of the myth of Arachne and is running at Underbelly. 

Fresh from appearing on Broadway in Moulin Rouge! Declan Bennett performs autobiographical show Boy Out in the City at Cowgate.

Magic fans, keep your morning free and catch Mario the Maker Magician at Udderbelly – a feel-good fifty minutes for families.

Elsewhere, one woman/man/plumber character-comedy spectacular GUSH, first seen at Vault Festival, is at Assembly George Square.  Canadian duo Agathe and Adrien of N.Ormes Assembly Roxy have good word of mouth. Stinging bio-drama Lena unpacks the tragedy of Lena Zavaroni.  

And 10 speakers surround the audience in Tomorrow’s Child, an adaptation of a Ray Bradbury short story at Assembly Checkpoint is worth catching.

At enchanting Summerhall, Lung theatre’s Matt Woodhead’s five star verbatim drama Woodhill focuses on the deaths of three prisoners and their families’ battle for justice. Just go! 

Gunter is an atmospheric retelling of a famous witch trial with beautiful music, by Julia Grogan, Rachel Lemon, and Lydia Higman. Startling show, Concerned Others by Alex Bird examines Scotland’s drug deaths with flair.

Also, Lady Dealer, performed by Peckham trailblazer Alexa Davies, stars a rhyming drug dealer. And another show I am intrigued by is Gusla, performed entirely in untranslated Polish. Why not.

Finally, Paines Plough’s pop-up venue Roundabout is hosting Miriam Battye’s lively two-hander Strategic Love Play and fun 2022 Bruntwood Prize for Playwriting winner Bullring Techno Makeout Jamz by Nathan Queeley-Dennis. Both sound promising.

My wildcard show is: Mad Ron: Crime School,think Phil Mitchell doing stand up with some excerpts from his “hard man” memoir. 

So, there you have it, that’s the end of my definitive Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2023 guide. (There’s always the Free Fringe, though, if you are feeling the pinch.)

I hope you have found some use in this guide to what the Fringe world has on offer. 

Bye for now,

Carl x

If you have tips, tweet me: @mrcarl_woodward *thumbs up emoji*.

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Edinburgh Fringe 2022: Day 2

I really rate James Ley’s brutal but adorable Wilf, directed by Gareth Nicholls. Wilf is a Volkswagen which has had seven previous owners. (“we’ve both been used” says Calvin)

This unusual, salacious and feel-good play explores Calvin (Michael Dylan), a gay man’s journey through a breakup and sex addiction set to the soundtrack of 80s power ballads. 

Wilf at Traverse

Unexpectedly, the most striking innovatory material can be seen in the apparently modest, over-familiar form of the duologue with immensely watchable and hilarious Thelma (Irene Allan) a woman with her own issues and history. 

What impresses me most about Ley’s play is its attention to detail. The quips, the nervy shame, unpacking mental health & the brilliant design by Becky Minto.

That may make it all sound a little kooky. But this is a tender and cracking play suffused with grief and absence that scratches at the fragility of our crazy existence.

★★★★

More queer joy at Summerhall, in cabaret musical Grandmother’s Closet – performed by the immensely watchable Luke Hereford.

The closet here is a gateway to endless glitzy costume changes and small-town childhood hijinks; its surface exuberance seems to conceal a great sadness around his nan’s memory loss. 

Talented Bobby Harding plays the perfect deadpan musical foil to Hereford.

Grandmother’s Closet at Summerhall

Ostensibly, this autobiographical piece is fast and furious, occasionally crude and theatrically tender, too. But it’s mostly well-paced and entertaining as it explores the glamorous musical icons in his life, that include Judy Garland, Kylie Minogue, Jake Shears. And his nan, of course. A true ally. 

Indeed, there’s plenty of growing up gay cabarets at the Fringe but I doubt that I will see a more authentic one than Grandmother’s Closet this year.

★★★★

At Pleasance, No Place Like Home by Alex Roberts & Co. (winner of Les Enfants Terribles Award 2022) is described as a tragic odyssey into gay club culture and the places we can call home. On his first night out to a nightclub, he surprises himself.

I really, really wanted to get behind this piece, but it never takes off and it lacks grit. In this one-hander, Alex Roberts plays both Connor, a teenager exploring his sexuality, and Rob, a casual barman.

No Place Like Home at Pleasance Dome

Here, the club soundtrack and fluorescent video design is ill-pitched. It doesn’t help that there is *sometimes* quite a lot of acting going on, the kind that offers signposts rather than subtlety. 

Alas, this is a show that feels as desperate as its characters, but there are two redeeming features: the fluid physicality of Roberts and his poetry. 
★★★

2,500 years after the Euripides original and 22 years since it was last seen, the National Theatre of Scotland’s operatic Scots-language production returns.

Edinburgh International Festival’s transfixing Medea at The Hub is theatre to enchant. In Liz Lochhead’s promenade version we see things fresh-minted.  

Tom Piper’s cunningly uncomplicated set design, which raises the actors on a catwalk, with audience standing, offers a immersive view of the female-centred tragedy. 

Medea

A diverse chorus of 10 women are made up and include Pauline Lockhart, Eileen Nicholas, Janette Foggo, Wendy Seager and Fletcher Mathers. 

All of this tragic evening is steely and well-focused. It is beautifully lit by designer Colin Grenfell. Spellbinding, in fact. 

By the end, as Medea rails against the patriarchy you can’t help sobbing. 

Totally timeless. Beyond brilliant. Pure class. 
★★★★★

Wilf

Grandmother’s Closet

No Place Like Home

Medea

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Edinburgh Fringe 2022: Day 1

DOWNTOWN, the world’s largest arts festival, resembles Skid Row. 

Down on Skid Row

Mini tornadoes of detritus are flying into the faces of pedestrians.

Cleaners in Edinburgh have begun an 11 day strike – local authorities on Friday increased their pay offer from 3.5 per cent to 5 per cent, but until they accept it, the Edinburgh industrial action will continue. 

I will be writing to Ms Sturgeon.

Anyway, the first good thing about Myra DuBois, as far as I can glean, is that she isn’t taking prisoners. 

Uptown, DuBois – at The Dairy Room, Underbelly – ferociously addresses our problems in her camp comedy chat that flamethrowers good taste – the whole hour feels like being kicked in the shins and rolled in glitter. 

Her biting wit is on fine form as the scathing diva berates audience members’s dress sense and first world problems. If I was measuring pleasure in decibels then the screams and squirms would sound like a joyous riot.

This may not be a show for sensitive souls whose idea of a jolly evening is sitting at home reading Anxious For Nothing. 

Overall, really, really wickedly funny. 

★★★★

We’ve all read in horror describing the bureaucratic hurdles facing asylum seekers, and the inhumane Rwanda policy but plonking Exodus makes us wish we could book a one way ticket there for ourselves. 

The point of this show, i guess, is to be on the nose on a topical subject – all the best shows on television, film and stage are.

I had high hopes for this timely play at Traverse. Unfortunately, Uma Nada-Rajah’s farce about an MP using refugee intolerance to get ahead is depressingly clunky and lacks imagination. 


The attempts at farce are painful, though. I blame the director, not the spirited all-female cast.

The play revolves around Home Secretary Asiya Rao, a Priti Patel clone played with some flare by Aryana Ramkhalawon.

Exodus



This MP sets about a policy to stop migrants crossing the channel by erecting a radioactive barrier.

I lost the will to live after 20 minutes.

★

Max Fosh is a YouTuber with over a million subscribers. Unfortunately, his debut live show Zocial Butterfly is a laboured and repetitive experience.

Max Fosh
Max Fosh

Playing games with the audience and combining it with tepid stand-up, Foss supports his act with a slideshow and clips of his self proclaimed greatest moments. 

Nevertheless, “The A to Z of conversation” one of the games he plays – starting the first word of each sentence in a conversation in the same order as the alphabet – is just kind of mediocre. 

For his casual stage show, charismatic Fosh cracks jokes about his penis, the exotic name Gary, and his diverse education at Harrow. Hardly radical. 

★★★

Over at Summerhall the press team are on roller-skates. Literally. 

Riffing on modern gay culture, Samuel Barnett is wildly ingenious in Marcelo Dos Santos hot play Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going to Happen.

Barnett is consistently amusing and greatly enhanced by his playful, forceful manner.

Meanwhile, Matthew Xia’s startling and intelligent production marries filthy eloquence with sheer silliness that makes you laugh out loud. Pretty and witty and gay.

★★★★

One of the top picks of Edinburgh Fringe 2022, Kathy and Stella Solve A Murder: a joyous piece of theatre about two hapless best friends from Hull who host a true-crime podcast. 

Written and directed by Jon Brittain (Baby Reindeer), with irreverent music and lyrics by Matthew Floyd Jones (Frisky and Mannish) – it’s the most promising thing I’ve seen at the Fringe. 

Performed by a cast of excellent five, actors Rebekah Hinds (Kathy) and Bronté Barbé (Stella) root the heart in the hysteria. 

Kathy and Stella Solve A Murder

Also from Fleabag producer Francesca Moody, this larky whodunnit mini-musical is a complete one-off: a little bit weird, totally charming, bags of fun and very, very sweet. I loved the songs.

This show deserves a further life.

Kill for a ticket.

★★★★★
Myra DuBois’ A Problem Shared

Exodus

Max Fosh: Zocial Butterfly

Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going to Happen

Kathy and Stella Solve a Murder




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Here’s Your Definitive Guide to Edinburgh Fringe 2022 (you’re welcome)

It’s nearly that time again: Edinburgh is set to host more than 3,000 shows when it starts next week.

The Fringe was cancelled completely in 2020 because of the pandemic but made a limited return last year with about 600 shows. But, top venues have warned that ticket sales are down by about a third relative to pre-pandemic levels, with the cost of living crisis, summer’s travel disruption and Covid cited as reasons.

I have no idea why the bone brained bosses made the horrendous decision not to have an app for this year’s event. And don’t get me started on the scandalous accommodation costs. Not a great look. Removing barriers to attending the Fringe for artists and audiences is a key priority for the Fringe Society.

(There’s always the Free Fringe, though, if you are feeling the pinch.)

Gulp.

First up: Lauryn Redding’s terrific Bloody Elle. First seen at The Royal Exchange, this gig musical is full of quirky original music performed live on stage. At Traverse, obvs.

Bloody Elle – A Gig Musical

Next, I’m curious to see Uma Nada-Rajah’s new dark comedy Exodus, at Traverse, too. It’s about politicians and posturing, and exposes systematic deception and indifference to human suffering.     

I am looking forward to seeing Afghanistan is Not Funny by Fringe veteran Henry Naylor at Gilded Balloon, Teviot. 

Elsewhere, Silent Faces ask why half the world’s population is excluded in a funny, pop-culture piece Godot is a Woman, at Pleasance Dome. If you need to laugh (don’t we all) don’t miss fleet-footed Nina Conti’s hilarious The Dating Show at Pleasance Courtyard. 

Horizon – Performance Created in England is back with its second showcase, this year focussing on tour-ready performances: a curated programme of ten artists making vital, genre challenging work. Check it out.

Feminist and female-led Rash Dash are always up to something daring. This year, they present Look At Me Don’t Look At Me – a two-hander featuring a piano, a synth, two microphones, a shaky egg and 14 original songs. 

Over at Assembly Checkpoint is Americana – A Murder Ballad – an intriguing premiere by leading Scottish playwright Morna Young. 

At Gilded Balloon Justin Huertas’s wildly original musical Lizard Boy unpacks self-love and acceptance, and particularly finding love today as a gay person of colour.

Lizard Boy

Indeed, Summerhall is essential for any Fringe visit. While you’re there go and see Invisible Mending; a show about love, grief, and knitting. Also: grab a ticket for Maimuna Memon’s Manic Street Creature. Bill Buckhurst (Sister Act) directs. Carly Wijs (Us/Them) returns to Summerhall with Boy. Don’t miss it. While you are there, have a G&T and head over to Luke Hereford’s fun autobiographical queer cabaret, Grandmother’s Closet.

Among other highlights, Caligari at Underbelly Cowgate, I’m sure, will be a riot: Five actor-musicians reimagine the seminal silent film, with the doctor’s victims taking centre stage. While you are there, go and see Max Fosh’s bonkers but brilliant drama-comedy Zocial Butterfly. I really want to catch Cassie and the Lights; a spellbinding play with music about children and the care system, too.

Paines Plough’s Roundabout is usually good value for money. Get along to world premieres Sami Ibrahim’s A Sudden Violent Burst of Rain – a poetic fable of an immigration system that mirrors our own. In Dipo Baruwa-Etti’s play Half Empty Glasses, a young Black student who auditions for a prestigious music school, but becomes disenchanted by the lack of Black names on the curriculum.

Half Empty Glasses – photo by Paines Plough

Over at Greenside, storyteller Kim Kalish’s The Funny Thing About Death looks like a tonic. Brain and Hemingway  piece about a songwriter with severe writer’s block – also looks fun.

If you missed the laddish Olivier Award nominated Choir of Man originally here in 2017, or last year in London, you can catch it once more.

Succession fans will want to take a walk over to Assembly George Square to catch a glimpse of legend Brian Cox. The actor and his wife have teamed up to produce new play She/Her. A hot ticket. 

So, there you have it, that’s the end of my Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2022 guide.

It’s good to be back, isn’t it?

Choir of Man

Anyway, I hope you have found some use in this guide to what the Fringe world has on offer. 

If you have show tips, tweet me: @mrcarl_woodward – I’ll be updating this blog weekly. 

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Edinburgh Fringe is heading online

A digital Edinburgh Fringe Festival has been announced for 2020

As part of the scheme, the Fringe Festival Society has revealed plans for a FringeMakers Crowdfunder, whereby venues and artists will be able to register as part of a central Fringe campaign, pay no fees and keeping 100 per cent of funds donated for their own cause. This will launch on 13 July.

A new “Fringe on a Friday” variety show will be streamed online, and see some of the best productions present snippets from shows online. More details are to be announced. There are also plans for a Fringe Pick n Mix – where artists can upload 60-second clips for online audiences to enjoy.

There will also be 30 digital events including panel discussions, workshops and networking sessions for those wanting to hone their skills, as well as a Fringe Marketplace to help promote tour-ready work. This will help companies project themselves onto a global stage and pick up vital commissions and programming slots for next year.

Penguin Random House will release a new audiobook while Comedy Central will release mini episodes featuring up-and-coming comedians.

Shona McCarthy, Edinburgh Festival Fringe Society chief executive, said: “It’s hard to imagine a summer without the Fringe. The explosion of creativity and community that the festival brings every year is unparalleled, and whilst we may not be able to provide a stage in Edinburgh in quite the same way this year, it feels hugely important that the spirit of this brilliant festival is kept alive.

“Little did we know way back in autumn, when we first started talking about this year’s programme artwork, how prescient the superhero theme would be today. We’re happy to be able to shine a spotlight on some of our Fringe heroes now, as we rally round to support the people that make your Fringe. On the other side of this, we’ll need them more than ever.

“The impact of Covid-19 has been devastating for the countless artists, audiences, venues, workers and small businesses that make this festival happen every year. The FringeMakers crowdfunding campaign is designed to support them, while the Fringe on a Friday live show and the Fringe Pick n Mix website aim to bring some much-needed joy to our devoted audiences both here in Scotland and all over the world.”

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