Comedy

She’s Behind You

03/08/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Johnny McKnight lifts the lid on all things panto in this hugely entertaining and informative one-dame show, directed by John Tiffany. She’s Behind You is an interesting hybrid, retaining all the bawdy glamour of Britain’s most popular theatrical form, while simultaneously offering a thoughtful commentary on its strengths and weaknesses. A seasoned writer and performer, McKnight has the audience in the palm of his spangly-gloved hands, eliciting gales of laughter as well as contemplative silences. He knows exactly how to tell his tale to best effect, effortlessly undercutting the more sombre moments with a raucous one-liner or comic song, carrying us along with him. It’s all beautifully designed by Kenny Miller and there’s a lightning-fast costume change (courtesy of Jennie Lööf) that will leave you breathless.

McKnight’s stage persona, Dorothy Blawna-Gale, is as warm as she is sassy, brash but never brutal – more Elsie Tanner than Cruella de Vil. “Punch up,” McKnight exhorts, reflecting on earlier iterations of his dame, where he followed in the footsteps of the Widow Twankeys and Ugly Sisters he’d so admired in his youth, making ‘harmless’ jokes about race, gender, sexuality and body size. “Times change,” he reminds us – and panto has to change with it. Some rules need to be kept – after all, the conventions of the genre date back to commedia dell’arte, a working-class art form that spurned elitism and focused on entertaining the masses – but some need to be broken.

For example, the gender imbalance doesn’t sit well any more, but most commercial panto casts are still at least 75% male, and the few women don’t get much agency, let alone the chance to tell jokes. There’s also an inherent homophobia, he tells us, which genuinely surprises me (I guess that’s my straight privilege showing). I’ve always thought of pantomime as gender fluid, sometimes sexist but never anti-gay. McKnight’s insider perspective opens my eyes, and I’m impressed by his efforts to walk the walk, writing scripts he can stand by and be proud of, serving his audiences rather than belittling them. Pantomime has survived so long by being adaptable and irreverent, so why is there so much resistance to challenging certain tropes?

But if all this sounds po-faced, then I’m doing McKnight a disservice, because – more than anything – She’s Behind You is a cyclonic blast, as big and bold as its glittering protagonist, and fully deserving the standing ovation it receives tonight.

So click your age-appropriate-but-sparkly orthotic heels together three times, and repeat, “There’s no place like the Traverse.” Dorothy Blawna-Gale will be waiting to see you. Oh yes she will!

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Chloe Petts: Big Naturals

31/07/25

Pleasance Courtyard (Forth), Edinburgh

(Happy to use she or they)

It’s that time again, when Edinburgh explodes with literally thousands of new shows – and for no particular reason that we can determine, first out of the stalls for us this year is Chloe Petts, who has named her show after er… her favourite things in the world (I’ll leave it to you to work out what they might be). She must be delighted with the turnout for her first performance, which sees the capacious Pleasance Forth very nearly packed to capacity. She strolls out and, seemingly without effort, gets the crowd on side.

Okay, it’s not revolutionary stuff, but her confident patter ranges from her formative years – when she found herself avidly embracing the lad culture of the early noughties (and often actually being mistaken for a lad in the process) – to her doomed attempts to hide her sexuality from her straight-laced but well-meaning parents.

As her story unfolds, Petts unleashes a whole barrage of howlingly funny one-liners and, at key moments, conducts a beautifully-timed series of high fives with a young lad in the front row, who doesn’t quite know whether to go with them or cross his arms in mortification.

All in all, it’s a promising start to Fringe 2025 and I leave having enjoyed a really good laugh throughout her sixty-minute set. In a world where such a commodity seems to be in increasingly short supply, what more can you reasonably ask from a stand-up?

4 Stars

Philip Caveney

Jellyfish

01/05/25

Bedlam Theatre, Edinburgh

Smiff (William Osbon) and Willow (Raphaella Hawkins) are a married couple, hanging on in quiet desperation in their perfectly decorated home, somewhere in suburbia. Smiff has an addiction to tinned spaghetti and entertains dreams of owning a sailing boat, despite having no experience of marine life whatsoever. Willow just wistfully thinks about getting out of the house, maybe going for a picnic or a nice walk? Today, she thinks, could offer the perfect opportunity.

But then the Jellyfish shows up at the door. Again…

Anya McChristie does a fabulous job of depicting the titular invertebrate, a wildly unpredictable creature with its own language, who can switch from unbridled joy to deep despondency at the twitch of an imaginary tentacle. Smiff appears to be on the creature’s wavelength from the word ‘go,’ and the two of them quickly form a powerful bond. This leads to Willow feeling excluded from them – and her attempts to get to know the visitor – even trying to teach it the intricacies of her beloved Scrabble – seem doomed to failure…

Filfbag Theatre’s Jellyfish is an absurdist comedy about the human condition, written by Osbon, and recent winner of the University of Edinburgh’s English Literature Play Award. There’s plenty to like in this quirky production, directed by Tilda Seddon. Both Osbon and Hawkins inhabit their characters with absolute authority and I particularly enjoy the sequence where Smiff and his tentacled-chum decide to let rip by indulging in the most fun pastimes they can think of. Cue some very strange antics and bizarre facial expressions.

It’s not all giggles. The world beyond the walls of the couple’s home appears to be a dark and forbidding place, somewhere to venture at your peril. Can it really be that there’s nothing out there?

Fast-paced, inventive and full of surprises, audiences will have a lot of fun figuring out exactly what the the mysterious visitor represents – and those in stifling relationships will doubtless identify with some of the interactions between Smiff and Willow. Jellyfish will be at Bedlam Theatre until May 4th. If you want to catch this, you’d better get a wriggle on.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Looking For Me Friend: The Music of Victoria Wood

23/04/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Victoria Wood was on my radar early on. Like many others, I first became aware of her when she appeared on (and won) TV talent show New Faces in 1974. Over the years, I regularly tuned in to her latest TV iteration, witnessing her various working partnerships with the likes of Julie Walters, Celia Imrie and Maxine Peake – and was dismayed to hear of her death from oesophageal cancer in 2015 at the age of just 62.

Paulus grew up through the strictures of the 1970s and 80s and, as a gay man, he found Wood an inspiration, enjoying in particular her songs and the playful way she used lyrics to create and define characters. When he met kindred spirit, Michael Roulston, it was perhaps inevitable that the two of them would eventually collaborate on a show, which they brought to the Edinburgh Fringe in 2022.

Looking For Me Friend is essentially a love letter to Victoria Wood, a celebration of the woman who would never use the word ‘biscuit’ when she could say ‘Garibaldi,’ who helped launch the careers of so many other performers, who always came across as somebody you’d love to have a long chat with over a cup of coffee. (I’m fascinated when Paulus tells us that, early in his career, he sent begging letters to scores of entertainers asking for their financial help and the only one who actually came back with a cheque – for £50- was Victoria Wood.) Sadly, he never met her in person.

This is a warm hug of a show, and Paulus is a confident and charming performer, nailing each song with aplomb and chatting with the audience in between. This isn’t an impersonation so much an interpretation of Wood’s best musical pieces, which vary in tone from laugh-out-loud funny to downright heartbreaking. Roulston provides sensitive musical accompaniment and occasionally weighs in with some pithy one-liners from Wood’s back catalogue. The two men work together with absolute ease.

It’s clear that there are some people in tonight’s audience who harbour the same devotion to the woman that inspired Paulus, some of them able to shout out even Wood’s most obscure catch-phrases on cue. I’m not that much of an expert myself but listening to the surprising range of material in tonight’s performance does make me appreciate that I’ve missed out on much of the late comedian’s finest compositions. Of course, you don’t have to be a Victoria Wood fan to enjoy this show: even in the unlikely event that you’ve never heard of her, you’ll feel that this is an hour and a half in which you’ve been thoroughly entertained.

Looking For Me Friend has just one more show in Edinburgh before it moves on to pastures new, so grab some tickets. Do it! Do it toniiiiiiiight!

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Felicity Ward: I’m Exhausting!

15/03/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Felicity Ward’s manic energy is apparent from the moment we hear her shrieking, “Please welcome to the stage…” from the wings. She bounds on – which is in itself quite a feat, given the towering stilettos she’s wearing. And the tone is set for two hours of mayhem…

Ward is an experienced performer and it shows. The London-dwelling Aussie hasn’t done any stand-up for several months, she tells us, so why not “ease” back into it with a two-hour set? Actually, the show is a little baggy in places – I think I’d prefer a tight ninety minutes – but she has us in the palm of her hand and the Traverse 2 is rocking with laughter.

The subject matter is wide-ranging, from childbirth to the pandemic, from Quorn to, erm… fingering. There are also some weirdly wonderful animal impressions (more of these, please!), as well as some admirably frank references to mental health problems, particularly of the post-natal variety. Ward’s unfiltered openness is what makes her so engaging – well, that and her irrepressible mischievousness. She has an infectious laugh and the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen.

I’m not usually a massive fan of comedians talking about parenthood because they mostly tread the same old ground, but Ward’s disarming admissions are bold and fresh. She makes us feel the horror of childbirth as well as the wonder; makes us laugh out loud (with schadenfreude) at her various mishaps.

I’m less keen on her weight-gain material. Previously a size 4, Ward bemoans “ballooning” to a size 14. While she aims for body positivity, claiming to love her belly, she also acknowledges that this material doesn’t really work now that she’s lost a lot of the weight, thanks to training for Australia’s Dancing With the Stars. It’s all a bit Bridget Jones and I’m not sure it ever would have sat well with me, especially as lines like, “When your leggings don’t fit, you know you’ve got a problem” and, “At least you’re never too big for a scarf” belie her supposed fat acceptance.

That aside, I have a thoroughly fabulous evening. Ward’s not lying with her titular assertion: she is exhausting. Her ADHD might be undiagnosed but it’s surely undeniable. She ping-pongs all over the place, physically and verbally – yet somehow manages to take us with her.

One thing’s for sure: I’ll be streaming the Australian version of The Office tonight. I can’t wait to see what this kinetic woman brings to the David Brent role. Meanwhile, I’ve laughed more than I have in ages. And I’ll never look at a giraffe in the same way again…

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

The Happiness index: Jonny & the Baptists

13/03/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

We’ve been aware of Jonny & the Baptists for quite some time, though we’ve somehow never managed to catch their act… until now. This is strange when you consider that we saw (and enjoyed) Jonny Donahoe’s delightful solo piece, Every Brilliant Thing, at the Edinburgh Fringe way back in 2015. 

Still, no matter – here we are at the Traverse 2 and there’s Jonny and his ‘Baptists’ (Paddy Gervers – don’t worry it’s explained later), decked out in their colourful Lucy and Yak jumpsuits and ready to launch themselves into their latest opus.

The Happiness Index – so I’m reliably informed – was originally conceived by one David Cameron, some time before he steered the UK into the disastrous car crash that was Brexit. It was, allegedly, a means of qualifying exactly how ‘happy’ his constituents were. As two struggling self-employed performers, both plagued by mental health issues and coming to terms with the fact that performing in Europe was now effectively off the cards, Jonny and Paddy were not chuckle-bunnies. And as the Conservatives’ disastrous years in power unfolded, the pair were clearly not destined to have much respite from the situation.

The ensuing account of their years of struggle could so easily be a tale of steadily-mounting misery, but instead we’re treated to a kind of stream-of-consciousness blitzkrieg, composed of equal parts caustic patter and seemingly unrelated songs, all of which are bitterly funny and most of which have me laughing out loud, sometimes in outright disbelief at what’s just been said.

Somewhere in there, there’s J and the B’s woeful attempts to compose advertising jingles – I can only picture the looks of disbelief of the faces of the people who might have commissioned them. There’s a thank you to one Nigel Farage, whose outraged complaint about being ‘mocked by people who are taking money from the Arts Council’ alerted the performers to the fact that they might actually be eligible for such funding in the first place. There are songs about the various medications for depression and their potential side effects. There’s a swift summation of Liz Truss’s short lived prime-ministerial career. And there’s a song about a monkey’s funeral (of course there is!) that frankly defies description.

If the object of tonight’s exercise is to lift my spirits, then Jonny & the Baptists succeed in epic style. Maybe it’s simply that I’m on the same wavelength as them, but this is one of the funniest shows I’ve seen in a very long time. Afterwards, I spend an hour or so on YouTube, checking out some of the duo’s greatest hits, which are well worth further investigation.

In short, if your own happiness index is at a low ebb, my prescription would be to find a venue where Jonny & the Baptists are playing and get yourselves down there at your earliest opportunity. If laughter really is the best medicine, this is the place to get your fix.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney 

Edfest Bouquets 2024
Another incredible August in Edinburgh. Another Fringe packed with wonders to behold. As ever, we’ve put together our annual list of virtual bouquets for the shows that blew us away.

Julia VanderVeen : My Grandmother’s Eye Patch – ZOO Playground

“A lot of the comedy comes simply from VanderVeen’s exaggerated facial expressions and her tendency to skewer audience members with a scarily intense stare…”

Luke Bayer – Diva: Live from Hell – Underbelly (Belly Button), Cowgate

“Channing (the name is obviously a reference to Bette Davis in All About Eve) is a delightful character, supremely self-obsessed, deliciously callous and intent on achieving stardom at any cost…”

The Sound Inside – Traverse Theatre

“Director Matt Wilkinson handles the various elements of the play with skill, and guides it to a poignant conclusion…”

Summer of Harold – Assembly (Checkpoint)

‘If you’re looking for an hour-and-a-half of impressive theatre, with snort-out-loud humour as well as profound emotional moments, then Summer of Harold ticks all the boxes…”

Rebels and Patriots – Pleasance Courtyard (Upstairs)

“Loosely stitched with a sprinkling of history and Shakespeare, it all adds up to something very thoughtful…”

Chris Dugdale: 11 – Assembly George Street (Ballroom)

“There are some examples of mind control that have us shaking our heads in disbelief – and I may be guilty of muttering the odd expletive…”

Natalie Palamides: Weer – Traverse Theatre

“A great big slice of the absurd, expert clowning performed with such reckless abandon that you can’t help loving it…”

V.L. – Roundabout at Summerhall

“A whip-smart comedy that also has some incisive things to say about the difficulties of adolescence and the importance of friendship…”

Sam Ipema: Dear Annie, I Hate You – ZOO Playground

“A wonderfully inventive and cleverly-assembled slice of true experience, by turns funny, profound and – at one particular point – very challenging…”

Michaela Burger: The State of Grace – Assembly George Street (Drawing Room)

“Not so much an impersonation as a transformation. Burger talks eloquently and provocatively about the lives of sex workers, explaining why there is a need for their business to be recognised…”

Honourable Mentions

Werewolf – Summerhall (Former Women’s Locker Room)

“I love it. The wardens do an excellent job of inhabiting their characters at the same time as managing the narrative, expertly drawing what they need from the participants…”

Megan Prescot: Really Good Exposure – Underbelly (Belly Button)

“Prescott is an accomplished performer. She tantalises and reels us in before skewering our internal biases and forcing us to think…”

Come Dine With Me: The Musical

19/08/24

Underbelly, Bristo Square (Cowbarn), Edinburgh

There’s a well-established route to success at the Edinburgh Fringe. Find a long established TV series (one that already boasts legions of devotees), tack the words “The Musical” onto the end and design a poster to go with it. Voila, you have the ingredients guaranteed to pull in large crowds of festival-goers in search of an hour’s entertainment. 

The results can sometimes be mediocre, but to give Come Dine With Me: The Musical its proper due, this sprightly production, co-created by Neil Butler and Genevieve Welch – who actually worked on the original programme – is slickly put together and nicely performed.

We are first introduced to harassed TV producer, Mary (Danielle Coombe), her hunky camera operator Roy (Tom Bowen) and her shy and hapless sound man, Teddy (Harry Chandler). The series is fast approaching it’s 1000th episode and the trio drive with some trepidation to the remote English village where it is to be filmed. They need something to boost their flagging viewing figures. Teddy is anxious for entirely different reasons. He grew up there.

Of course, we all know the format of the show (four disparate people cook dinner and are scored out of 10) but who will be the winner? Will it be snooty Barbara (Kim Ismay), who is completely obsessed with all things Françaises? Will it be evangelistic vegan, Ernest (Leo Udvarlaky), who can do some pretty inventive things with a bowl of lentils? What about the self proclaimed ‘King of the Sausage Roll,’ Duncan (Paul Hazel), a man who equates meat with manhood? And, lest we forget, how about Teddy’s old school chum (and secret crush), Jenny (Sophie Hutchinson)?

But when Teddy’s microphone picks up what appears to be somebody scheming to spike another chef’s culinary creations, the scene is set for a memorable landmark edition…

This is an enjoyable and occasionally very funny show, with a selection of songs memorable enough to have me humming the closing melody as I leave the theatre. All the performers have excellent vocal skills, with Coombe in particular reaching some impressive top notes.

You might argue that it’s slight fare, an amuse bouche rather than a dish of the day, but if it’s an hour of escapism you’re after, you could do a lot worse than Come Dine With Me: The Musical, before heading out for a slap-up meal in Edinburgh.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Michelle Brasier: Legacy

18/08/24

Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose (Doonstairs), Edinburgh

First up, a disclaimer. It’s not Michelle Brasier’s fault, but there’s something wrong with the sound in this room. I don’t know if it’s where we’re positioned – first row, far left, directly in front of a gigantic speaker – but the volume is so amplified that Brasier’s voice is distorted, and I find it hard to follow some of what she says. I leave the show with a headache.

It’s a loud, high-octane production anyway. But, if you can sit further back or in the middle, I’m sure that works in its favour. Aussie comic Brasier zips along at a frenetic pace. I feel breathless just sitting here, as if I’m one of those maximise-your-time people who listen to podcasts on double speed. Her stage persona (and maybe her real-life self, for all I know) is a diva-drama-queen, who warns us from the start that she has ‘main character energy’. This makes for a lively hour – with some deeper themes beneath the fun façade.

The conceit is simple. Visiting her local cinema, Brasier is handed an envelope with her name on it containing $10.50 in coins – but it’s not for her. She embarks on a quest to find this other Michelle Brasier and return the money. At first, I assume this means we’re setting off on a Dave Gorman-esque mission, but no – it’s very much an original tale and actually not really about any other Michelles at all. After all, this Brasier is the hero of her own story. She did tell is us that from the start. Even the most banal occurrences are exciting if they happen to her.

But not everything that happens is banal.

The threat of an early death laps at the edges of this musical comedy show, surfacing in the form of a refrain (“What if I die younger than I should?”), in the cyst she’s just had excised and in a terrifying plane journey. Brasier has a high risk of cancer and doesn’t want children. And so, as the title tells us, she’s concerned about her legacy. How will she be remembered? Will she be remembered at all?

I like her brash, bold approach to her story, and her amusing digressions along the way. She has some insightful things to say about the generational divide and the shock of realising that you’ve aged out of being cool. Her partner, Tim Lancaster, provides an interesting counterpoint, as well as guitar accompaniment and backing vocals. He’s quiet and, in comparison to Brasier, seems to move and speak at a glacial pace. This difference is cleverly mined for all its potential; he’s the perfect foil for her manic style.

This is well-crafted comedy with some catchy songs, and Brasier has the vocal skills to make it soar. Just be careful where you sit – and then prepare to be caught up in her infectious energy.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

300 Paintings

18/08/24

Summerhall (TechCube 0), Edinburgh

Aussie comedian Sam Kissajukian had an epiphany in 2021. Okay, so it turns out it was actually a manic episode, but he didn’t know he had bipolar at the time, so he really believed he’d seen the light. It was time, he decided, to turn his back on comedy and become an artist. So what if he’d never painted before? He had a beret. He was good to go.

We have his bipolar to thank for the art we see today: without the high levels of energy, the euphoria and the delusions that come with a manic episode, Kissajukian might never have rented a workshop, moved into it and obsessively painted massive (and tiny) pictures for several months. He might never have created the Museum of Modernia or held exhibitions of his work across Australia – or visited the Edinburgh Fringe with this fascinating show.

Of course, he wouldn’t have had to endure the crippling depression that followed either, but he’s doing well now, he tells us, so we’re allowed to laugh at the crazy, funny stuff he did.

300 Paintings is essentially a story about finding yourself and, although most of us won’t experience periods of transition with quite the same intensity as Kissajukian, the urge to escape our shackles and work out what we really want is very relatable. Unleashed from the need to please a drunken comedy audience, Kissajukian turns out to be extraordinarily creative. His ideas are inventive (literally) and exciting; his artwork primitive but fresh. He pushes every concept beyond its boundaries, so that this show is unlike anything I’ve seen before.

Kissajukian’s previous incarnation as a comic means he’s adept at communicating with the audience, even if the early morning is an unusual time for him to be awake. His easy-going patter makes the complex mental health issues accessible, and the projections of his artwork illustrate the story perfectly. Twenty-five of his paintings are on display here at Summerhall, the performance and exhibition inextricably linked.

Today’s show was sold out but, if you can get a ticket, 300 Paintings is an invigorating way to start your day.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield