A Simply Beastly Murder

29/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

Rachel E Thorn’s A Simply Beastly Murder is our last show of this year’s Fringe, and it’s a spiffing one to end on. If you’re thinking ‘British film noir’ and ‘Enid Blyton adventures’ is a ludicrous idea for a genre mash-up, then you’re not wrong. It is ludicrous – gloriously so.

Although the Famous Five famously remained the same age for at least seven years’ worth of school holidays, they have – at last – grown up. For some reason, the often-overlooked middle kid, Dick (Alistair Mckay), prefers to be known as ‘Richard’ these days. He’s a PI, capitalising on his childhood experiences of solving crimes. Several years in the States have eliminated his English accent; he’s now a hard-boiled Marlowe-wannabe, complete with trilby, trench-coat and a drink problem.

But now he’s back in London, and he’s called his sister for help. Anne (Thorn), the baby of the group, has barely changed at all. Goody-two-shoes earnestness is still very much her thing, and she’s shocked to find her brother embracing a dissolute lifestyle. She urges him to return to Kirrin Island with her, but Dick – sorry, Richard – has a mystery to fathom first…

Who killed his girlfriend, Margot?

And will they try to frame him for the simply beastly murder?

Directed by James Stone and with additional voices provided by Alistair McGowan, A Simply Beastly Murder is a cleverly-crafted spoof, intertwining the contrasting styles to great comic effect. Immersing Anne amid the grit and grime of the sleazy underground club Dick frequents allows for plenty of square-peg-round-hole humour. Thorn maximises this by playing her role completely straight. The incongruity is delightful.

The show is playful, utilising a range of theatrical devices which we have been asked not to reveal here. Suffice to say, the invention is impressive. Perhaps the section where Dick is alone on stage, talking to pre-recorded voices, goes on too long; perhaps the plotting could be more ambitious. No matter; the production is slick and accomplished, a perfect digestif to say goodbye to Edfringe 26.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

Locker Room Talk

28/08/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

The scariest thing about this 10-year anniversary staging of Locker Room Talk is not just how little has changed, but how sexual politics actually seem to be sliding backwards. Not only is Pussy-Grabber-in-Chief Donald Trump still parading his misogyny in the White House, but viral influencers such as Andrew Tate have brought the manosphere into the mainstream.

“Locker room talk” has broken out of the closet.

Last time we saw this production, written by Gary McNair and directed by Orla O’Loughlin, it was 2019. Since then, POTUS Biden has been and gone and the UK has weathered five PMs. Between them, none has been able to stem the sexist tide.

Locker Room Talk is simply staged: five women (Caroline Deyga, Gabriel Quigley, Jamie Marie Leary, Nicola Roy and Rachael Spence) stand in front of microphones, earphones in, repeating verbatim recordings of real conversations between real men. Ordinary men. The kind we all work with. Who see nothing wrong in rating their female colleagues out of ten and announcing if they’d give her one or not. It’s all just chitchat, right?

And yes, I know. Not all men.

But, still: too many men. The recordings cover blokes of different ages and backgrounds, from manual labourers to corporate lawyers. The “banter” is all depressingly similar. The saddest section is the little boys, who innocently parrot the prejudice they’ve heard.

The women’s performances are faultless. Let’s just hope the production doesn’t fall on tin* ears.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

*Yes, that is a reference to the ten-year anniversary. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

Sanctuary

27/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Ace Dome), Edinburgh

Set in the 1990s and based on real events, Sanctuary is a compelling play about the AIDS epidemic, offering a brand new perspective on those dark and dreadful days as the UK death toll neared its peak.

Michael (Matthew Tennyson) is ill. He’s moved from London into a remote Suffolk farmhouse, which owner Wendy is planning to turn into an AIDS hospice. She wants to provide a place where sufferers can die in dignity, away from judgement and stigma. Sadly, she’s met with local opposition, so there are currently only two patients: Michael and a trans woman, Mary, who is very close to death.

Michael isn’t too sick yet, but he is frightened and lonely, dithering about whether or not he should just pack up and leave. But then an elderly stranger (Richard Cant) appears in the kitchen. He’s a friend of Wendy’s, he says; he’s hoping she’ll be able to give his hair a trim. Michael is suspicious – and rightly so, it turns out, as the man reveals that, actually, Wendy has asked him to come. She’s worried about her young house guest and thinks that talking to an older homosexual might help.

She might not know much about planning permission or council licenses, but Wendy is canny when it comes to human connection. Although he bristles at first, Michael soon opens up to the unnamed man, sharing his anger, his fear, his shame. He talks about hedonism and drug-fuelled sex; about longing and lost love and the sickening number of funerals he’s been to. The stranger is gentle and understanding, offering just the slightest glimpse of hope…

It’s easy to see why Jacob Sparrow’s spare, uncompromising script caught the eye of the judges of the inaugural Leodis Prize for playwriting. Directed by Josh Seymour, the play is at once tender and raw, the artifice of its clever construction never overpowering its humanity.

There are only four more performances of Sanctuary at this year’s Fringe. Don’t miss your chance to see it!

4.8 stars

Susan Singfield

Double Take

27/08/26

Underbelly Bristo Square (Dairy Room), Edinburgh

It wouldn’t really be the Fringe without a spot of mime and luckily, New York-based Broken Box Theatre have brought along six performers, who take it in turns to present the Double Take – a series of nine short pieces where not a single word is spoken. Even the announcements for each successive scene are written on a chalkboard. Today we have Blake Haberman and Ismail Castillo, who are both incredibly skilled. Mr Haberman is blessed with features that, when painted white, seem to embody the word ‘lugubrious.’

They move expertly through the sketches, which vary in tone and subject, from funny to thought-provoking to poignant – and I marvel at the performers’ ability to convey really quite complex stories through movement and gesture. I particularly like the sketch where Castillo is trying to prepare a meal whilst watching YouTube chef Haberman, occasionally having to rewind and fast forward him when things go wrong.

I am particularly moved by a sequence that deals with the subject of dementia, featuring Haberman as a father teaching his young son how to skim stones – and then, as the piece moves on in time and his condition deteriorates, how that simple act helps the two of them to reconnect.

The different stories are linked by the actions of a voracious snail, simply and effectively delivered by Castillo, using just his hands.

The hour-long set seems to literally whizz by and I leave feeling that I have observed a masterclass in the art of mime. Those who love the form should seek this show out at Underbelly while there’s still time to catch it.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Dog Stars

26/08/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

One thing I’ve always admired about veteran director Ridley Scott is that I never know what he’s going to come up with next. In the case of The Dog Stars, based on the the 2012 novel by Peter Heller, my first thought is that this is the last genre I would have expected from him. What we have here is a bleak, post-apocalyptic dystopia set in 2035, when a flu epidemic has erased most of the world’s population, leaving only small pockets of hard-scrabble survivors.

One such survivor is Hig (Jacob Elordi), a former mechanic now occupying a deserted airfield along with a former marine, the apropriately named Bangley (Josh Brolin), who deals ruthessly with any survivors who come a-calling by promptly shooting them in the head. True, there are gangs of ‘Reapers’ out there, tattooed weirdos who are prepared to kill anyone for whatever bits of food or fuel they might have, but Bangley never gives anybody the benefit of the doubt and tells Hig that he’s ‘too soft.’

Hig has a light-engined plane and he also has a faithful dog called Jasper, who accompanies him everywhere. The twosome regularly head off in the plane in search of medicine and gasoline – and from time to time Hig even calls to his former home in Denver, where he thinks about his late wife and the baby she was carrying when the flu took them both. Hig occasionally makes a call to a group of Memmonites in their remote mountain hideaway, though he never mentions this to Bangley – and on another trip, he meets up with Pops (Guy Pearce) and his daughter Cima (Margaret Qually), helping them to escape from an attack by an army of Reapers…

There are of course some good elements here. Few directors handle action sequences as well as Scott and an extended Reaper attack on a lone Bangely is nicely handled, as are the extended aerial sequences, filmed by Erik Messerschmidt, with rural Italy standing in for Colorado. But a third act development that has the trio landing at former air steward Darlene (Alison Janney)’s weird airport retreat, Grand Junction, feels like it’s wandered in from a different film entirely – and a ‘shock’ revelation shortly thereafter comes as no surprise whatsoever.

Furthermore, an attempt at a redemptive final act doesn’t really manage to lift this one out of the doldrums. With the real world plunged into such dark times, a story that deals with the annihilation of most of the population is going to have to work pretty hard to keep me entertained, and despite Ridder’s best efforts, this falls somewhat short of the mark.

2. 8 stars

Philip Caveney

Noted

26/08/26

Assembly Roxy (Upstairs), Edinburgh

I’m attracted by The Back Pack’s press release, which promises “playful invention” – a phrase that strikes joy into my heart. It chimes with the ideology of the youth theatre company I work with here in Edinburgh so I arrive with a smile this morning, clutching my coffee, expectations high.

The Back Pack’s dizzying mix of clowning, illustration and animation doesn’t disappoint. We whirl from one scene to another with barely time to catch our breath. A short film – gently amusing; a group of school kids with cartoon backpacks – lots of lols. Puppetry, dance, video, cine-theatre – it doesn’t get more eclectic than this.

Twenty minutes in and there are hundreds of pieces of paper discarded on the stage. I’m grinning like a fool, loving every minute – even though I’m struggling to understand how the performers are managing to keep everything under control. There’s so much of it. Including the entire history of the world…

The live-delay is especially impressive (it’s all impressive, but this stands out). The performers are on stage, moving; we can’t tell what their contortions mean. Thirty seconds behind them, an overhead shot is projected onto the backdrop, creating an array of scenarios: horse-racing, moon walks, synchronised swimming. What’s not to love?

The choreography is stunning. The performers – Pete Betcher (who also directs), Katie Kohler, Alec Silver and Lauren McFall – are all excellent dancers, and they form a perfectly drilled quartet, making this most complex of productions look effortless (which logic tells me cannot be the case).

Noted is family-friendly in the best possible way. There really is something here for everyone. It’s silly, funny, clever and astonishing. An ideal start to the day.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Overtone

25/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

Tom Brennan’s assured play depicts the ongoing relationship between a young couple, set across two entirely different timelines. Paul (Scott Fletcher) and Maggie (Claire Dargo) are teenagers when we first meet them. Paul has finally managed to get into the choir. Maggie is already an enthusiastic member – and both of them are eager to impress their charismatic choirmaster, Alan. It’s clear from the very start that he exerts a powerful hold over them.

They are both excited about those infamous camping trips he organises, where adolescents get to drink and smoke and party – though of course, you have to receive a personal invite from Alan before you can attend…

Then quite suddenly, the narrative skips forward twenty years. Paul and Maggie are now a married couple, meeting up at a posh restaurant to offer advice and encouragement to their goddaughter, who is about to tie the knot herself. But as the evening unfolds, it quickly becomes clear that Alan still has that same grip on the couple, even though they haven’t seen him in years.

Tightly directed by John Hogarth, I love the way this tale unfolds. I’m initially thrown by those abrupt switches in time but, as the story moves on, they soon fall into place and I begin to fully appreciate what this story is really about: the all-pervading menace of those questionable relationships we sometimes experience as teenagers, and the various ways in which they affect us long term. Overtone deals with themes of abuse and coercion and carries a content warning.

Having experienced such a situation in my own youth, I really relate to this story – and I understand the desperate need that both characters have to keep returning to the man who has been exploiting them for years. Both Fletcher and Dargo deliver pitch-perfect performances and I love David Spence’s simple but effective set design, the curtained backdrop that is gradually opened to reveal the full picture.

This North Wall world premiere is a play worth watching and it’s exactly the kind of project the Edinburgh Fringe was made for. There are only a few days left to catch it at the Pleasance so book your tickets now.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Bad Boy

25/08/26

Underbelly Cowgate (Belly Laugh), Edinburgh

Meet Jack (Daniel Adolfsson), a laid-back kind of guy, just trying to make his way in the world. Okay, so he recently split up with the girl he’s still hopelessly in love with, and from whom he’s inherited a bulldog (her new partner is allergic, apparently). And yes, he does live in a crummy little flat that doesn’t even have its own shower, but he’s determined to make it as an actor. Meanwhile, to make ends meet, he’s happy to man a suicide line and talk people out of doing something desperate… and there’s no chance of him ever doing anything stupid like that himself because that big break will surely come along one of these days. Won’t it?

Oh, and the guitar on the chair beside him? He doesn’t even play guitar, it’s just there as a conversation piece.

Adolfsson has a relaxed and likeable presence and the story (which he also wrote) is gently and confidently told – which makes the character’s toxicity all the more chilling. He describes his irascible landlord, the shy woman who recently moved in next door, and her eight year old daughter, who just might be interested in having occasional guitar lessons. And then, one day, his best friend casually mentions that he might have fixed him up with a major role in an adaptation of Anna Karenina…

Directed by Lilac Yosiphon, this piece of narrative storytelling is described as a dark, Nordic comedy. It follows a linear path and is most interesting when things go wrong for Jack, which they inevitably do. However, I can’t help feeling this piece could do with a little more fire in its belly, a little more jeopardy.

And the guitar? Sure enough Adolfsson eventually picks it up and gives us a couple of (very good) songs. Which only goes to show, you can’t trust everything a Fringe performer tells you. Maybe it’s a sign that Jack is starting to deal with all those unresolved issues.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

Copycat

24/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

I’m initially drawn to Joe Sellman-Leava’s show because it promises to tackle the thorny topic of AI and, as an author and therefore somebody who sees it as perhaps the most dangerous invention of the 21st century, I’m keen to learn more.

And yes, it does handle the subject, but in a frustratingly roundabout way.

We find our narrator seated at a desk in front of a laptop, surrounded by heaps of discarded paper. An overhead projector allows him to display the different images he sets out on his (non-virtual) desktop. He proudly shows us a sketch book from his schooldays, which features caricatures of the teachers who guided him through his academic years. One in particular, it turns out, was an inspiration to him – and a section of the show will be all about Mr Swift.

Then Sellman-Leava does some impersonations – good ones as it turns out. His Ed Miliband is right on the nose. Just as I’m settling into that, he impersonates Big Arnie before segueing into selected excerpts from Lord of the Rings. It starts to become clear that Copycat is made up from a lot of disparate threads.

When we eventually get to the AI stuff, it is absolutely terrifying – the point that our National Health Service’s computer system has been outsourced to Palantir – an AI company often accused of ‘techno-fascism’ – is a particularly chilling premise. Sellman-Leava points out that we are all turkeys voting for Christmas, a conclusion with which I heartily concur. But then once again, we’re heading off in a different direction to revisit Sellman-Leava’s end-of-term show, in which he is obliged to impersonate the aforementioned Mr Swift.

Sellman-Leava is a talented and confident performer for sure, his warm, friendly demeanour connecting with his audience – but when he gets to the extended sequence where the presentation collapses into a confusing blare of random voices, augmented by impressive sound and lighting effects, I find myself thinking how much more effective this would be if the framework of the story were more straightforward.

There’s plenty of interesting content here but, in this form, they’re all fighting each other for dominance – and there’s no clear winner. Nonetheless, it does raise some vital points – and asks important questions..

3 stars

Philip Caveney

Spring Awakening

24/08/26

theSpace@Surgeon’s Hall, Edinburgh

I’ve said this before: it’s mind-blowing to think that Frank Wedekind’s Frühlings Erwachen was written way back in 1890, when Kaiser Wilhelm II ruled the Deutsches Reich, Queen Victoria was on the British throne and Robert Gascoyne-Cecil was our PM. Not that anyone was brave enough to stage it right away – it wasn’t until 1906 that the transgressive play premiered at Berlin’s Deutsches Theater.

A whole century later, Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik’s musical adaptation opened on Broadway – and this is the version we’re seeing today. You might think a contemporary adaptation would go further than the original, but it’s actually not the case. Yes, there’s more swearing, but there’s a softer ending – and no rape or masturbation scenes.

Nonetheless, this still feels like a bold piece for a school to take on. The very fact that I find myself thinking They must have a really progressive head teacher and I wonder if all the parents are on board just proves how relevant the play’s themes still are. These students are the same age as the characters, and Wedekind’s whole point was to illustrate the dreadful consequences for young people of silence, censorship and repression.

Set in Germany, in a conservative provincial town, Spring Awakening tells the story of a group of teenagers, forced to abide by a very strict set of rules that no one ever explains. Wendla (Melody Moppett) asks her mother (Alice Davidson) to tell her how babies are made, but Mrs Bergmann is too embarrassed to explain. “You have to love your husband,” she tells her daughter, leaving her horribly ill-equipped to deal with her burgeoning sexuality. Wendla finds herself drawn to Ilse (Minna Williams), who ran away from her abusive home at fourteen and now appears to enjoy a bohemian lifestyle in an artists’ colony. What Wendla doesn’t know is that Ilse’s freedom carries a heavy price.

Meanwhile, Moritz (Greg Cameron) is struggling to keep up with his studies, working day and night, unaware that his fate has already been decided. “There are only sixty places in the final year,” says Headmaster Knochenbruch (Rufus Pilcher). There’s no room for Moritz, whatever grade he achieves – but his father won’t forgive him if he fails. What’s a boy to do?

Hänschen (Alexander Christie) and Ernst (Joe Ridley) have their own problems: they know how they feel about one another, but they’ve been taught that homosexuality is a sin. Still, as ever, love and lust prove stronger than societal disapproval. They might just be the happiest characters in the play.

On the surface, Melchior (Jasper Simmons) is better off than the others. His mum (Davidson) is relatively open-minded; she’s raised her son as a free-thinker and taught him about sex. As a result, he’s seen as the fount of all knowledge by the other boys. He’s also a thorn in the side of the Headmaster, and an easy scapegoat when things go horribly awry…

This is a very ambitious project and, for the most part, Kingston Grammar School’s KGS Theatre Company pulls it off. Meg Christmas’s direction is impressive: there are a lot of bodies but the stage traffic and choreography run like clockwork – no mean feat in a performance space without any wings, just an awkward opening upstage centre. I also like the simple set: stage blocks are positioned in regimented formation, with cleverly-concealed pockets behind them, holding microphones and minimal props.

Musical director Mark Laflin provides keyboard accompaniment, augmented by cast members Williams, Ridley and Catherine O’Shea on acoustic guitars.

The whole cast work well, both in their individual roles and as an ensemble, but the standouts for me are Moppett and Williams, who both have beautiful singing voices and imbue their very different characters with strength and vulnerability. Allegra Kelly also offers a strong performance, evoking our sympathy as the maltreated Martha.

If you’re looking for a lively, provocative start to your day, I recommend you take yourself to the Surgeon’s Hall for this high-octane, fearless production of Spring Awakening.

4 stars

Susan Singfield