Month: August 2025

The Roses

30/08/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good, so perhaps it shouldn’t come as a surprise to Theo Rose (Benedict Cumberbatch) when the very storm that shatters his career as an architect also heralds a renaissance for his restaurateur wife, Ivy (Olivia Colman).

Theo and Ivy have relocated from London to Northern California, where Theo has been commissioned to design a naval history museum. Ivy’s professional aspirations have been on hold since their two kids, Roy (Ollie Robinson/Wells Rappaport) and Hattie (Delaney Quinn/Hala Finley) came along, but now they’re busy with school and friends and she’s starting to get itchy feet. How long can she carry on cooking elaborate tasting menus for a family of four? Theo is nothing if not supportive, encouraging her to set up a new eatery, opening a few evenings a week.

But when Theo’s high-profile building collapses in a hurricane, he finds himself persona non grata in the architectural community, unable to find work. Meanwhile, seeking shelter from the same weather, an influential food critic is blown into Ivy’s restaurant, and her review catapults Ivy to stardom. It makes sense, then, for Theo to take over domestic duties, while Ivy capitalises on her success and expands her business.

But Theo finds it hard to cope with his sense of failure, and Ivy finds it hard not to resent his newfound closeness to their kids. Before long, their relationship begins to sour, their grievances mounting to monstrous proportions…

Directed by Jay Roach, The Roses is laugh-out-loud funny, as the couple’s responses to their problems escalate cartoonishly, their excesses both shocking and exhilarating to watch. At the same time, with such skilful actors in the lead roles, it’s also desperately sad: we’re bearing witness to the disintegration of a once-happy marriage, observing as two people find themselves travelling a path towards mutual ruin, unable to stop as the momentum builds.

Despite its destructive premise, The Roses turns out to be a feelgood kind of film. Based on the novel by Warren Adler and famously filmed as The War of the Roses in 1989, Tony McNamara’s script is bitingly funny, with lots of arch lines and bitchy humour to lighten the tension. The supporting cast provide some excellent comic relief – particularly Ncuti Gatwa as Jeffrey, Ivy’s loyal waiter, and Kate McKinnon as Amy, the couple’s sex-starved friend.

As for the ending? I don’t think it’s giving anything away to say that it’s best described as “audacious”.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

Together

29/08/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Horror is enjoying a bit of a resurgence at the moment. Together has the misfortune of being released around the same time as Zach Creggar’s superb Weapons, which means it has inevitably been somewhat overlooked, but it’s well-worth seeking out on the big screen. At its heart, it’s a great big metaphor about the potential perils of co-dependence, but it also draws parallels with other subjects.

Tim and Millie (real life couple, Dave Franco and Alison Brie) are at a tricky point in their relationship, beginning to wonder if they’ve made the right decision by moving away from the city to a new home in the country. Of course, we viewers know that in the world of cinema, the countryside is a terrible place, full of satanic cult worshippers and the like, but clearly Tim and Millie haven’t watched a lot of films.

After a farewell party where Millie’s proposal of marriage to Tim is awkwardly received, off they go, with fingers crossed. Tim is annoyed that he is sacrificing his dreams of a career in rock music, but schoolteacher Millie finally has the job she wants and is happy to continue doing what she’s always done – fulfilling the role of main breadwinner in the relationship.

Things get off to a sticky start when the couple decide to go for a hike in the woods. They get caught in torrential rain and fall down a hole in the ground, where they’re forced to spend the night in the remains of a very creepy subterranean church, a place we’ve already been alerted to in the film’s opening scenes and… well, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to replenish the water bottles from that pool?

Some people stick together through thick and thin but, after their overnight stay, Tim and Millie find themselves getting stuck on each other – quite literally. At first, it’s just awkward – and in one particular scene, set in a school toilet cubicle, utterly toe-curling – but as time moves on, and the effects steadily worsen, things get very gnarly indeed.

Since the success of The Substance, film makers have increasingly ventured into the realms of body horror. While in Together, the effects are initially played for laughs, as the story progresses, the scenes are increasingly visceral. Writer/director Michael Shanks handles everything with enough momentum to stop viewers from asking awkward questions about those opening scenes and, I have to say, I have a great time watching as things turn nastier, trying to stop myself from exclaiming out loud at each successive twist.

The final scene delivers a delicious sucker punch that I really don’t see coming. If you’ve ever asked yourself if you’re too into your partner, this film may provide some answers.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Life of Chuck

28/08/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Stephen King is probably the most screen-adapted of contemporary authors, but his novella, The Life of Chuck – first published in 2020 in the If it Bleeds collection – is certainly not the kind of story that most readers would expect from him. Rather than a spine-chilling tale of the supernatural, this is a moving and genre-defying project, that manages to tread the fine line between emotion and schmaltz with great skill. All kudos to director Mike Flanagan, who saw a way to make the story work on screen and went for it.

Divided into acts, told in reverse chronological order – I warned you it was unconventional! – the film begins in the present day with Act Three: Thanks, Chuck. The world is being assailed by biblical disasters: floods, earthquakes and – perhaps most disturbing of all – unreliable wifi! Middle school teacher, Marty Anderson (Chiwetel Ejiofor) reconnects with his former partner, Felicia Gordon (Karen Gillan), as they try to make sense of what appears to be the end of all things. And what’s with the sudden prevalence of billboard posters, thanking somebody called Chuck Krantz for ’39 Great Years!’?

In Act Two: Buskers Forever, we actually meet Chuck (Tom Hiddleston), a sober-suited and mild-mannered accountant going about his routine business – until he is transfixed by the drumming of street performer Taylor (Taylor Gordon) and launches into an extended dance routine that would put Gene Kelly to shame. During the performance he picks out of the crowd a complete stranger, Janice (Annalise Basso), to be his partner. Turns out she can dance too!

In Act Three: I Contain Multitudes, we meet the young Chuck – played by Cody Flanagan, Benjamin Pajak and Jacob Tremblay, as he grows up with his grandparents, Albie (Mark Hamill) and Sarah (Mia Sara). I rarely give a shout-out to casting directors but both Pajak and Tremblay look so alike, I find myself wondering if they’re actually related in real life. (They’re not.)

It’s in this section alone that there is a discreet touch of the supernatural, but hardly at the histrionic level we’ve come to expect from Mr King…

I’ve no doubt that some viewers will have their expectations dashed by this film, but Flanagan has handled the story with consummate skill, steering it to a moving and thought-provoking denouement, whilst anchoring his premise around the Walt Whitman poem, Song of Myself. It’s a profound meditation on the subject of life and death, one that arrives at the conclusion that all life is sacred and that the death of any human is a tragedy of epic proportion.

Through all its unexpected twists and turns, The Life of Chuck keeps me utterly compelled. Pajak in particular, making his film debut at the tender age of 12, is clearly destined for stardom. It’s also fun to spot a whole host of big league actors in cameo roles as the story unfolds. This is fearless filmmaking in an era where playing it safe seems to increasingly be the preferred route.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

This is Spinal Tap (41st Anniversary Edition)

25/08/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

What better way to mark the end of another Edinburgh Fringe than to watch one of the greatest films of all time? This is Spinal Tap is back in the cinemas for its – ahem – forty-first anniversary. (Yes, even their commemorations go up to 11.) Those who follow upcoming film releases will know that a long-rumoured sequel, Spinal Tap 2: The End Continues, is on the cinematic horizon. How good can that possibly be? Well, the trailer looks promising…

If you’ve somehow never heard of Spinal Tap, here’s your chance to acquaint yourselves with one of the loudest – and most punctual – heavy rock bands in history.

I first saw this film at a press show in 1984 at the infamous Aaben cinema in Hulme, Greater Manchester. I was working as a film reviewer for Piccadily Radio at the time and, as somebody who’d spent a great many years as a member of an ill-fated rock band of my own, to say that the movie struck a chord with me would be something of an understatement. It was like watching my youth being replayed in front of my eyes – only for bigger laughs than Hieronymus Bosch ever mustered. (What can I tell you? We met in art school.)

Marty DiBergi (Rob Reiner, making his directorial debut) introduces his (if you will) rockumentary, as he accompanies veteran rockers, Spinal Tap, on their latest tour of America. The band comprises David St Hubbins (Michael McKean), Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest) and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer). They also have a keyboard player and a drummer in tow, but are the first to admit that they don’t have great history with percussionists – one of them actually exploded.

Their cricket bat-wielding manager, Ian Faith (Tony Hendra), is along for the ride and, in the latter half of the film, so is David’s zodiac-obsessed girlfriend, Jeanine (June Chadwick), her presence causing pressure-cooker tension between David and Nigel. Eagle-eyed viewers will enjoy spotting the likes of Angelica Huston and Billy Crystal in walk-on roles and there’s a delightful cameo from the late, great Patrick Macnee as Sir Denis Eton-Hogg, president of Polymer Records.

The ensuing film is a riotous collection of rock songs with outrageous lyrics, a whole raft of ultra-quotable quips, a selection of toe-curling and farcical situations – all perfectly judged as the action cuts back and forth from location to location, the band heading ever deeper into the brown stuff. It’s laugh-out-loud funny and one of those very rare cases of American actors nailing British accents with absolute authenticity.

I’m always hesitant when asked to pick an all-time favourite movie but this just might be the one. I must have seen it more than a dozen times, but a chance to see a brand spanking new 4K restoration?

And this one’s in Dubly. Yes, thank you!

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Edfest Bouquets 2025

It’s that time of year when we award virtual bouquets to our favourite shows from this year’s Fringe.

Once again, we’ve seen some absolutely magnificent productions, so – without further ado – here’s our pick.

Shake Rag Hollow – Assembly Rooms (Front Room)

“A powerful play that gradually builds to a shattering crescendo…”

Alright Sunshine – Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome)

 “Cowan’s taut, almost poetic script is brought powerfully to life by Geddes’ mesmerising performance: a tour de force with real emotional heft…”

She’s Behind You! – Traverse Theatre

“McKnight has the audience in the palm of his spangly-gloved hands, eliciting gales of laughter as well as contemplative silences…”

Bury the Hatchet – Pleasance Dome (Queen Dome)

“An inspired piece of theatre, wonderfully propulsive, perfectly judged and by turns shocking, intriguing and acerbically funny…”

The Other Mozart – Assembly George Square Studios

“An object lesson in reclaiming women’s history, The Other Mozart is exquisitely conceived and realised, a magnum opus in its own right.”

Lost Lear – Traverse Theatre

‘Feels worthy of its progenitor: a clever, multi-faceted drama; a treatise on the nature of life and death…”

Vagabond Skies: The Van Gogh Musical – Gilded Balloon at the Museum

“It’s when all the voices come together that the piece really dazzles, the harmonies soaring…”

Lachlan Werner: Wondertwunk – Pleasance Dome (10 Dome)

“There are elements of horror in the story, which put me in mind of the theatre of Grand Guignol…”

Macbeth – Zoo Southside

“Lively and engaging, switching from up-tempo toe-tappers to plaintive ballads at the drop of a stetson…”

1984 – Pleasance Courtyard (Above)

“It’s chilling to acknowledge that, in today’s turbulent world, Orwell’s warnings about totalitarianism seem more relevant than ever…”

Mariupol – Pleasance Courtyard (Beneath)

“Mariupol is an expertly-crafted piece of theatre, starkly illustrating the brutality of war without ever sensationalising it.”

The Insider – Pleasance Dome (King Dome)

“Every single utterance – every bump, squeak and scratch – is weirdly amplified in the crucible of my head. The result is totally immersive and weirdly compelling.”

Susan Singfield & Philip Caveney

Motorhome Marilyn

24/08/25

Gilded Balloon Patter House (Doonstairs)

Our last Fringe show of 2025 is Motorhome Marilyn, a choice inspired by my mum, who listened to Michelle Collins talking about the play on Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour, and was taken with its backstory. Back in the late 90s, Collins was in LA, trying to build on her UK fame. While she was there, she noticed an old lady emerging from a dilapidated motor home, dressed as Marilyn Monroe. The image stayed with her for years until, in 2018, she mooted the idea for a play to her writer friend, Stewart Purmutt, and they started work on it. When Purmutt died in 2024, Ben Weatherill took over, and now Motorhome Marilyn – more than quarter of a century in the making – has finally parked up at this year’s Festival.

The set, by Joshua Beaumont and Matthew Emeny, is pretty lavish by Fringe standards. We’re inside a camper van, stuffed to the pop-top with Monroe memorabilia. There are posters, tea towels, mugs and cushion covers: if there’s an available surface, Marilyn’s face adorns it. And there’s Denise (Collins), a Marilyn lookey-likey, whose own identity has been subsumed over the years, so that she’s no longer sure who she really is.

There’s also Bobby, Denise’s confidante, who just happens to be a snake…

Directed by Alexandra Spencer-Jones, the story works quite well: there’s a Miss Havisham-like quality to Denise, who is tragically stuck in a role she’s aged out of. Her hopes for stardom have come to nought, but she’s nothing else to cling to, no option but to don that platinum-blonde wig and paint on a scarlet smile. Collins imbues the character with pathos, although there are moments when I’d like to to see her emotions heightened – with some Eastenders-style excessiveness, perhaps.

Occasionally, too much is spelled out for the audience: we are not left to infer anything, but spoon fed each detail. This detracts from the authenticity of the dialogue, which is a shame. Nonetheless, Motorhome Marilyn is a sometimes funny and always engaging piece of work, an ode to failure and broken dreams.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Revolver

23/08/25

Pleasance Courtyard (Beneath), Edinburgh

In 1966, when Revolver was released, my mum was 18 years old, and had already been a fan of The Beatles for quite some time. As a Liverpudlian teenager, she’d spent many a lunchtime in the legendary Cavern Club, and was lucky enough to attend the Fab Four’s notorious 1964 homecoming gig at the Empire. She was, naturally, a member of their fan club – and still has her Christmas Flexi Discs to prove it. So, when she was scheduling her visit to this year’s Fringe, it was obvious that there was one production she wouldn’t want to miss…

Writer-performer Emily Woof’s play doesn’t disappoint. It’s about three women, the first of whom is Jane Fraser, a former teacher turned TV-researcher, delighted to be working on a documentary about female fandom through the ages. The second is Helen, Jane’s mum, who spent her adolescence dreaming about John Lennon. And the third is Valerie Solanas: writer, activist – and pistol-wielding would-be killer.

Directed by Hamish McColl, Revolver is an intricate piece of theatre, dealing with the very questions Jane thinks the ‘Fangirls’ documentary should address. But, while the protagonist is thwarted in her endeavours by James, the ratings-driven film-maker who hired her, Woof makes her points cogently, drawing salient connections between fame and feminism, reverence and rage.

James’s sensationalist approach to the documentary – he favours the tagline ‘Young, Dumb and Fun’ – undermines the girls who screamed for their pop idols, ignoring the sociopolitical circumstances that gave rise to them. Woof uses Helen and Valerie to illuminate the disconnect between history and herstory, to validate the heightened emotions of teenage fans – and to shed light on the boiling rage that drove Solanas to shoot Andy Warhol.

Tracks from The Beatles album are played throughout, sometimes to mark transitions and sometimes as the soundscape. This works best when there is a clear association between the songs and what is happening onstage, e.g. Tomorrow Never Knows provides the perfect background to an acid trip. Occasionally, the song choices seem a little random, taking me out of the moment while I try to understand the link (Tax Man plays us out, for instance, and I don’t know why), but overall the soundtrack serves the piece well.

I like how knotty this is: Woof doesn’t shy away from the complexity of the issues at hand, and her performance is both bold and nuanced. I’m not entirely convinced by the sexual fantasy sequence (the language seems too sophisticated for an inexperienced young girl), but that’s my only quibble with the writing.

A thoughtful, exacting play, Revolver demands serious consideration from its audience. “Nobody can deny that there’s something there.”

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Wodehouse in Wonderland

22/08/25

Assembly George Square (Studio 3), Edinburgh

Not so much an impersonation as a celebration, Robert Daws is clearly having a whale of a time in William Humble’s Wodehouse in Wonderland, and, after a few minutes of uncertainty while I tune in to the tone of the piece, so am I. Wodehouse is, of course, one of those writers who almost defy belief: incredibly prolific, very successful in his own lifetime – but remembered now for the accusations levelled at him for his ‘collaboration’ with the Nazis during World War Two.

We meet him in the 1950s, living in exile in Long Island and reluctant to return to his British homeland. He’s still writing fiction (though a book now takes him six months rather than three) and he’s also hankering after another shot at writing for the theatre with his old partner, Guy Bolton, who lives nearby.

Daws offers a relaxed and jovial performance as Wodehouse, mixing martinis as he talks, expressing his intense dislike for the great Russian authors (too gloomy) and making slyly humorous observations about his wife, Bunny’s profligacy. He also speaks lovingly about his adopted daughter, Leonora – or ‘Snorkles’ as he prefers to call her – who he claims is his ‘Number 1 critic.’

He talks – with great reluctance – to his American biographer, who eventually nudges him in the direction of that unfortunate business with the Germans… and, lest the tone grow too serious, every so often, Daws interrupts proceedings to launch into a rendition of one of the author’s comic songs.

Wodehouse in Wonderland is a revelation in many ways. I was a fan of Jeeves and Wooster back in the day and read several of their adventures when (just like Wodehouse in his youth) I was sequestered in a rather unpleasant boarding school. I learn quite a lot about the author over the hour and realise that I have been misinformed about that ‘collaboration’ business – so it’s nice to have the record set straight.

Towards the conclusion, there’s also a moment of sweet sadness, which Daws handles with absolute assurance. While this may be best suited to those familiar with Wodehouse’s work, it’s not essential. Those looking to spend a pleasant and rewarding hour on the Fringe should find plenty here to keep them thoroughly entertained.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Insider

21/08/25

The Pleasance Dome (King Dome), Edinburgh

We’ve reached that point in August where, when I see a fabulous show at the Fringe, I come away wishing I’d caught it earlier, all the better to extoll its virtues. Mind you, Teater Katapult’s The Insider is selling out the Pleasance’s 174-seat King Dome with apparent ease, so perhaps they don’t need any help from me.

As we file into the performance space, we cannot help but notice actor Christoffer Hvidberg Rønje, dressed in a smart business suit, glaring balefully at us from the confines of a large glass cubicle, like some exhibit in a freakish zoo. He will not emerge from his enclosure until the play is done. As per our instructions, we all put on the stereo headphones we’ve been supplied with to be greeted by the sound of a blues performer singing about money and how he needs it really REALLY badly. (Well, we’ve all been there.) Then the lights go down on us, the glass box is illuminated and the play begins.

It’s 2017 and Hvidberg Rønje plays a banker – we are never given his name – involved in the Cum-Ex insider trading scam that resulted in high street banks losing billions of dollars. But now he’s been called to answer for his actions. The actor speaks his lines to a series of pre-recorded accomplices and inquisitors and, because it’s all filtered through headphones, every single utterance – every bump, squeak and scratch – is weirdly amplified in the crucible of my head. The result is totally immersive and weirdly compelling. It’s astonishing that somebody like me – a poster boy for dyscalculia – can be transfixed by a story about mathematics, but there’s no other adjective for the state in which I find myself.

That glass box where the story plays out could so easily be reductive, but the walls occasionally feature vivid projections and rows of information. Occasionally, Hvidberg Rønje draws on the glass with a white pen, illustrating how the great scam was achieved in ways that even I can understand.

The actor goes through a whole range of moods during the performance – the sequence where he makes his first ‘killing’ has him dancing around his enclosure in a drunken frenzy and performing a gymnastic leap from the top of a filing cabinet that makes me gasp – and, once again, that amplified sound system has us sharing every mood with him, from those early bouts of ecstatic glee to a sense of mounting paranoia as his malpractice is uncovered.

Brilliantly directed by Johan Sarauw, with sound design by Peter Albrectsen and Sun Tee Engelstoft, The Insider is quite simply mesmerising. If you can get hold of a ticket for one of its last few performances, I urge you to do so. You’ll be watching one of the Fringe’s most original productions.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Ghouls Aloud: Elysium

20/08/25

Appleton Tower, (Ruby)

In the final week of Fringe 2025, it’s gratifying to chance upon an act that feels quite unlike anything else we’ve seen this year. Ghouls Aloud are Milly Blue and Jessie Maryon Davies, the former a singer/storyteller, the latter a musician. The show begins in straightforward fashion with a song, Blue accompanying herself on acoustic guitar, before breaking off and launching into a story, described by its creators as contemporary horror. It is, I suppose, a piece of gig theatre.

It’s the tale of a young couple who, with their new baby, move into the protective surroundings of Elysium Fields, a gated community somewhere in prosperous South London. ‘The woman’ (we don’t learn her name) likes the feel of their new home – with one exception. The little garden at the back of their house is covered with a layer of astroturf, and she vows to remove it to plant vegetables and wild flowers.

But she will learn that Elysium Fields has a dark history and there are things in its soil that might better be left undisturbed…

Blue becomes the central character of the piece and also personifies a clutch of others in and around Elysium Fields: friends, neighbours, the odd gatekeeper who the residents call ‘Penfold.’ Blue switches accents and mannerisms with great skill, so there’s never any doubt who she is portraying at any given moment. Maryon Davies also chips in with lines of dialogue, whilst supplying original keyboard compositions, ranging from beautiful melodic ballads to eerie, unsettling soundscapes as the tension begins to build.

Occasionally I find myself distracted by a few too many complications, minor characters who don’t really add enough to the narrative to earn their place, however skilfully they’re portrayed – and I’m not entirely convinced that a subplot that talks about the conflict between Israel and Gaza is a comfortable fit here – though arguably, that may be the point.

But I do admire the ambition of Elysium and the distinctive ways in which the duo go about telling the central story. If I am reminded of anyone, it’s the much-missed Will Greenway, who, for several years was a must-see at the Fringe and who also has a highly individual way of creating a story with music – albeit much more gentle than this. Overall, I find this compelling enough to keep me hooked right up to the unsettling final scene – and I’ll be interested to see what Ghouls Aloud come up with next.

4 stars

Philip Caveney