Theatre

The Second Best School Shooting

23/08/26

Pleasance Courtyard (Baby Grand), Edinburgh

Parker (Rachael DeBoer) and Ava (Shaylaren Hilton) are besties, hanging out in Parker’s bedroom, studying and painting their toe nails. So far, so ordinary. But it soon transpires that this is a school day and that they’re home because something terrible has happened…

One of their classmates brought a gun to their physics lesson yesterday, planning a massacre.

The girls are in shock.

But they don’t feel entitled to their trauma because, while their shooter was stopped before he hurt anyone, another incident across town led to thirteen teenage deaths. Social media is full of sympathy for the students of the other school. Meanwhile, no one’s even acknowledging that anything happened to Parker and Ava.

Parker’s on board with that. She just wants to forget it ever happened, to bury herself in physics revision and try to get the GPA she needs for a college scholarship. Ava, on the other hand, is furious. How dare people brush their experience under the carpet? Of course she’s glad that no one she knows died but that doesn’t make everything okay. She’s been through something terrifying and she wants to effect change.

She wants to mount a challenge to the NRA, to gun laws, to late-stage capitalism and selfish billionaires.

But all she’s got is a TikTok account, some headed notepaper and a purple Sharpie. It’s not exactly a fair fight. How is a schoolgirl to make her voice heard?

Written by Alice Stanley Jr and directed by Riley Rose Critchlow, The Second Best School Shooting offers a rare insight into the effects of gun violence on teenage survivors, whose emotional landscape is shaped by the ever-present background fear that they could be shot at. Anywhere. The script is sharp and snappy, creating a believable dynamic between the friends, and confronting the audience with some uncomfortable truths about the world we’ve created for our young people.

DeBoer and Hilton are perfectly cast as the contrasting central duo, DeBoer skilfully capturing Parker’s outward calm as well as her internal struggle, while Hilton cleverly allows Ava’s high-octane performance to slip, revealing the panic she’s struggling to control.

Developed alongside March for Our Lives, the political group formed by students who were in the 2018 Parkland tragedy, The Second Best School Shooting is an urgent, important piece of theatre. I urge you to see it.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

Big Stuff

22/06/26

Assembly Roxy (RoxyBoxy), Edinburgh

Stuff. Love it or hate it, we’re all surrounded by it; it’s just the way we deal with it that differs. How about you? Are you a hoarder or a declutterer?

As two self-declared stuff-shunners, we’re fascinated to see what Canadian comics Matt Baram and Naomi Snieckus have to say on the subject.

We hit our first obstacle as soon as we enter the cutely-named RoxyBoxy shipping container (an apt venue). We’re given pencils, cards and a question: what object do you own that reminds you of someone you love? In my best handwriting (I’m always keen to please), I put, “the books my husband wrote,” not realising until later that it should be someone who’s dead. Philip is sitting next to me, very much alive and frowning at his card. “I haven’t got a clue,” he says. I remind him of his great uncle’s mandolin, which is hanging on our wall. “I never met him though,” he says, then shrugs and writes it down. I guess we’re really not ‘stuff’ people.

But that’s okay – because that’s the point of the show. One person’s trash is another one’s treasure and all that. Matt and Naomi are married and, unlike Philip and me, do not agree about clutter. Where Matt sees a bag full of half-used lipsticks, Naomi sees her late mum, putting on her face. Matt wants to chuck it all in a skip; Naomi wants to hold on to everything. The answer – unsurprisingly – lies somewhere in between.

Directed by Kay Sandler, this is a gently comic, life-affirming show – part love story, part obituary, part (metaphorical) communal hug. Snieckus provides the warmth – she genuinely has one of the friendliest faces I’ve ever seen – while Baram tempers the show’s more saccharine moments with his precisely-timed jibes. Their affection for one another is palpable and it envelops the audience too.

Are there any profound revelations or transformative ideas? No. But do I leave with a smile on my face and a general sense of wellbeing? Yes, I do.

I’m still a minimalist though. That hasn’t changed.

3.5 stars

Susan Singfield

Dracula: Lucy’s Dream

21/08/26

EICC (Lennox Theatre), Edinburgh

It may be that you’re thinking, ‘Hmm. Yet another version of Dracula?’

If so, think on. I’m willing to bet that you’ve never seen an adaptation like this one. French-Norwegian theatre company Plexus Polaire present their production in the spacious environs of The Lennox Theatre, using a mix of actors and life-size puppets to depict exactly what it says in the title. This is a visual representation of the dreams of Lucy Westenra. There’s hardly any dialogue, only a series of almost hallucinogenic scenes, which flow together into a surreal hour of movement, music and puppetry.

I sit there mesmerised and can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like this before. There’s a cast of only five performers – though I only realise there are so few of them when they take their bows at the end.

First there’s Lucy, wandering around the huge stage – but then there are two of her and, an instant later, three, running back and forth between gliding stone pillars – and, of course, there’s Dracula, who shifts between human and puppet and back again, at one point even breaking into separate components and floating eerily around the stage. Yngfeld Aspeli directs with all the skill and flair of a magician.

And the truly astounding thing is, you cannot see when one thing becomes another, so seamlessly is it integrated. A couple of times I fail to hold back a gasp of astonishment as something entirely unexpected happens. How do they do that?

There’s unearthly music and chanting voices, spectral lighting effects and half-seen shapes that shift and lurch through the gloom – oh, and there’s a dog! One that that looks real enough to put on a lead and take for a walk…

The Lennox Theatre is packed and the only advice I can give is to GET THERE EARLY because you’ll want to be as close to the stage as you can possibly can be, the better to see the magic unfold. Dracula: Lucy’s Dream is quite simply, a masterpiece.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Confessions of a Mulatto Love Child

21/08/26

Zoo Southside, Edinburgh

Morning shows can sometimes have a tough time of it on the Fringe. If potential viewers have been out late the night before – and especially if they’ve partaken of a few libations – then they might prefer to wait until midday before relaunching themselves. Inevitably, that means that some fabulous shows don’t receive the kind of attention they truly deserve. In the case of Confessions of a Mulatto Love Child, it’s only the arrival of a perfectly-timed email invitation that has us dragging ourselves out from under the covers and hurrying along the Edinburgh streets to arrive at Zoo Southside with minutes to spare.

We’re glad we make the effort.

Bellina Logan’s monologue, directed by Maggie Soboil, is the story of her long and sometimes difficult relationship with her late mother, Averil, an English actress living in America. Due to a brief relationship with a Black theatre director that ended in pregnancy (or as Logan puts it ‘Imagine if Maggie Smith got in on with Shaft’), Logan is born the ‘mulatto’ of the title. (And yes, that outmoded term for a person of mixed race is frowned upon now, but was in common usage back in the 1970s.)

Logan is a gifted performer, able to portray a whole collection of characters with uncanny skill. She races back and forth across the stage, giving this her all, throwing out an entire catalogue of accents and vocal mannerisms with absolute authority. Averil is perhaps best described as ‘eccentric,’ a haughty upper-class force of nature with a gift for devastating put-downs and inventive curse words. Taking Bellina along for the ride, she restlessly flits around the world whenever she feels she’s spent too long in one place and, though she claims not to even like cats, somehow manages to end up owning a whole menagerie.

Then there’s Betty, Averil’s loyal housekeeper, who has crooked teeth and therefore always covers her mouth when she speaks. And there are local shopkeepers and neighbours and people who just happen to be passing by, every one of them captured like a vivid snapshot with only the briefest gesture.

I am laughing uproariously through the first half of this and then becoming increasingly tearful as Averil begins the long slow journey towards the end of her life, the terrible inescapable descent into dementia… but it’s been wonderful spending an hour with her and her very talented daughter.

If you’re looking for something clever, funny, heartbreaking and utterly engaging, my advice is to set your alarms. Confessions of a Mulatto Love Child is well worth getting out of bed for!

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Long Way Home

20/08/26

Gilded Balloon Patter House (Snug), Chambers Street, Edinburgh

Layla Warren’s earliest memories are of war-torn Tehran, where she is sheltering in her grandparents’ basement from Iraqi bombs. Four decades and three continents later, here she is at the Edinburgh Fringe, recounting her almost incredible tale.

Warren is an engaging speaker. She knows how to turn those enormous eyes on her audience, demanding our attention. The problem is, there’s so much extraordinary information packed into the hour that it’s impossible to take it all in. It’s like listening to a podcast on triple speed. There’s five shows’ worth of material crammed into one, so that – inevitably – we find ourselves skating over the surface.

Directed by Sepy Baghaei, the best moments are those when things slow down; when we’re shown instead of told. A scene where Warren dons traditional Iranian dress and dances at her leaving party stands out, as does her blind grandmother memorising Layla’s face through touch.

There are so many incidents I want to see in more detail, to understand them better and marvel at teenage Layla’s blagging skills. A fifteen-year-old bluffing her way onto an international flight? Landing a job at a top London club? Deciding she wants a TV career so just heading to LA and finding one (the evidence is on YouTube; she was known as Layla Kayleigh then)? It’s all fascinating, but we’re only allowed a tantalising glimpse before we gallop on to the next event.

Sometimes, the breakneck speed works to Warren’s advantage, illuminating the astonishing nature of her life. More often, it undermines the importance of traumatic experiences, such as sexual assault or family breakdown. As an audience, we need longer to process these incidents.

There’s so much potential in this autobiographical show – but its depth is obscured by its overwhelming breadth.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Amnesia

19/08/26

Pleasance Courtyard (Bunker Two), Edinburgh

What comes to mind when you think of Rhyl? If it’s “Blackpool after a neutron bomb” or “Satan’s armpit” then you’re not alone.

For me, it conjures up fond memories. I grew up in a village a few miles inland and Rhyl was the nearest town. The Little Theatre, where I spent my teenage Saturdays. The White Rose Centre, for shops and summer jobs. Nightclubs (I was a Bistro girl). And all the fun of the fair.

For Kelly (Kimberley Hart-Simpson), it’s home. She lives on West Parade with her bestie, Amrit, in a flat above Les Harker’s arcade with a glorious sea view. Everywhere they need to go is only a short walk away: the Bryn Môr nursing home, where they both work; the Cob and Pen, where they socialise (and where Kelly’s mum performs weekly Tom Jones tribute gigs). Kelly’s happy with her life – but Amrit, it transpires, is not.

And Kelly isn’t good with change…

Hart-Simpson paints a convincing portrait of life in a forgotten town – the sort of place that politicians love to talk about but where nothing ever seems to improve. Outsiders mock Rhyl: it’s “the Costa del Dole” – somewhere to escape from. But Kelly mounts a spirited defence. She’s proud of her home, the tourist spot that spawned not only Carol Vorderman and Mike Peters, but also Lisa Scott-Lee and, well, Kimberley Hart-Simpson. No one should need to feel ashamed of where they’re from (especially when it’s as beautiful as the North Wales coast).

If this all sounds a little po-faced, don’t be fooled. Directed by Kate Wasserberg in association with Theatr Clwyd, Amnesia is a wild ride, with as many highs and lows as Ocean Beach’s infamous Runaway Train. Kelly is always in motion – even when she’s still  – and Hart-Simpson effortlessly draws our attention to her pent-up energy and frustration, fizzing fit to burst. From Ibiza nightclubs to old ladies’ bed baths, we’re under the spell of a talented actor, who knows exactly how to engage her audience. 

Although Kelly is thirty-seven, this is essentially a coming-of-age story, as she learns to accept two crucial truths: things don’t always stay the same, and her own idea of happiness is perfectly valid.

4.5 stars

Susan Singfield

Don’t You Forget About Me

19/06/26

Assembly Roxy (Downstairs), Edinburgh

Don’t You Forget About Me is described as ‘a monologue about nostalgia’ – and anyone who recognises that title from a popular Simple Minds song will know exactly which John Hughes film provides the inspiration. 

In David Shopland’s script, he imagines himself as the forgotten sixth member of The Breakfast Club. Some 32 years later, he’s eagerly waiting for the others to arrive at his flat, where he’s hosting a bit of a reunion. He refers to them as the archetypes named in the film – The Athlete, The Brain, The Basket-Case, The Princess and The Criminal – each represented by a different coloured stool.

He predicts how they’ll behave when they arrive and then goes on to describe what happened to them in the past. In doing so, he is essentially recounting the plot of The Breakfast Club. Okay, he does it with confidence and some theatrical flair, but his character is barely present… I’m expecting a fresh perspective on the infamous Saturday detention but none is forthcoming.

Like a lot of other people, I saw the original film at the cinema on its 1985 UK release, and I rewatched it in 2017 as part of a John Hughes season. In my opinion, it stands the test of time very well.

So as somebody who’s familiar with the film, of course, I already know what happens, and I also recognise the references to other celebrated movies of the 1980s – Back To the Future, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, the awful Sixteen Candles – but this simple retelling doesn’t add anything new to the mix. Then I find myself wondering what people in the audience who aren’t familiar with the movie are going to get from this and decide that doesn’t really compute. If they don’t know who the characters are and where they come from, what does that leave them with? A summary of a film they haven’t seen?

There is a coda to the play: a meditation on nostalgia and why the cultural landmarks of our teens remain so important throughout our lives. But it feels like too little, too late.

Don’t You Forget About Me is a new piece of work from production company Fake Escape – and Shopland tells us at the end that they are working it up here in Edinburgh. This makes sense: it feels like a WIP, even though it isn’t billed as such. I can’t help feeling this one has some way to go before it’s ready.

2.5 stars

Philip Caveney

The Trials of Magnus Coffinkey

19/08/26

Summerhall (Red Lecture Theatre), Edinburgh

On a stage littered with autumn leaves, the Storyteller (Rebecca Camilleri) begins a whimsical, rhyming fairytale about a doomed bell hanger called Magnus Coffinkey (Jospeh Zammit). In the middle of the night, high up in a belfry, Coffinkey is spooked, first by a malevolent gargoyle and then by a cauldron of bats. As he falls, he grabs the bell – which proves a near-fatal error. He and it tumble together, the silver bell entombing him in the graveyard.

When Magnus wakes up, it’s to find a sweet, guileless creature stealing his heart. From her, he learns that he is in The Gloom, a space somewhere between life and death. If he wants to return to the world he knows, he’ll need Harmony’s help to mend his broken ticker…

So far, so twee – but there is more to this dark fable than meets the eye. Zammit imbues Magnus with real sorrow, while Camilleri perfectly inhabits a whole host of roles, most heartbreakingly that of Harmony. The piece is, in fact, an ode to grief, Magnus’s story serving as catharsis for Lara (Camilleri), a writer trying to cope with immense loss. Cleverly, despite the allegorical structure, there are no glib answers offered here. In fact, when Lara’s husband, Jeremy (Zammit), attempts to provide the ending Lara’s struggling with she dismisses his maxims as useless platitudes.

Something deeper is required…

Co-written by husband and wife team, Malcolm and Angele Galea of Malta’s Give or Take Productions, this play is at once profound and beautiful, precise and dynamic; the script perfectly complemented by Philip Leone-Ganado’s sure-footed direction. Sam Edmunds’ imaginative use of simple lighting – a bell gobo; a couple of coloured bars; a few overhead lamps – provides the finishing touches, establishing whether we’re in Magnus’s story or Lara’s reality.

Only the most stone-hearted person could fail to cry at this play – but only the most cynical could fail to smile.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

Playback

18/08/26

Summerhall (Former Womens Locker Room), Edinburgh

It’s 2013 and Euan Munro is taking his first steps as a filmmaker on YouTube. We watch entranced as clips of the cheeky eleven-year-old play on a large screen at the back of the room and we know instantly that they are too spot-on to have been faked. Then, suddenly, we’ve moved on a couple of years and now here’s Euan in person, still sporting that trademark red baseball cap – only now, he’s being played by his present-day self (aged twenty-four). We join this new incarnation as things are beginning to hot up on the YouTube front.

For one thing, Euan is still sparring with his friend, Cammy (Yana Harris) – also a YouTuber and sometimes Euan’s collaborator. Euan is initially jealous of his pal, who has more followers than he does, but then he gets his own good news. A popular vlogger calling himself Billosaurus wants to be Euan’s friend – and he lives in Iowa! After Billosaurus features Euan’s World as a hot tip on his account, the kid’s legend begins to grow. Soon he’s approaching the dizzy heights of 1000 followers!

Inspired by Munro’s own childhood experiences, this is a cleverly immersive account of the rise of a wannabe digital superstar. But he’s a naïve boy who takes everything at face value as he tries to negotiate his ascent to fame in a world where he’s perceived as easy prey. Would he maybe accept the sum of $100 dollars to show his bare feet on camera? Why not? That’s good money! Luckily, Billosaurus is on hand to advise Euan against accepting the offer, but… who exactly is Billosaurus?

And what is he expecting from this friendship?

Munro’s autobiographical play, directed by Katya Searle, is a wonderfully-affecting piece of theatre, made all the more powerful by its use of genuine found-footage. As the reality of the central character’s situation begins to dawn on him, there’s also an emotional scene between Euan and his mum (Mori Christian.) The final payoff has me welling up with tears. Though young Euan is never directly harmed by any of the people he encounters online, they are all grooming him for their own nefarious purposes – and their silent intent speaks volumes.

Chilling and compelling in equal measure, Playback is another unmissable show at Summerhall.

4. 8 stars

Philip Caveney

Jerk Off!

17/08/26

Underbelly Bristo Square (Dairy Room), Edinburgh

Don’t be misled by the title. Jerk Off! is not a bro-comedy, akin to The Hangover or The Inbetweeners. Instead, it’s a profound autobiographical play about death, abusive relationships – and hip hop.

Nadia P Manzoor is a triple threat. Not only has she penned this provocative script; not only is she a compelling actor; this woman can really dance.

Framed as a story (or perhaps a lesson) for her daughter, Rumi, the play follows Nadia in the aftermath of her mother’s death. She’s only twenty when her mother dies and she doesn’t know how to process her grief. Her British-Pakistani family want her to get married to a nice Muslim boy, but Nadia wants to spread her wings. So when her cousin Zeinab invites her to Boston, she books a ticket right away.

Boston is a revelation: an internship at Harvard (thanks, Zeinab!), a hip-hop dance class and a hot boyfriend. And if the boyfriend’s behaviour raises a few red flags, well, that’s a small price to pay for a cool new life… Until it’s not.

As well as Manzoor’s skilled performance, what makes Jerk Off! so powerful is her refusal to offer us any easy answers. There is nuance upon nuance; there are no heroes or villains here. Instead, we have a cast of flawed humans, failing and succeeding, trying their best and falling short. By the end of the play, Nadia has come to terms with the imperfect reality of who her mother was. The message to Rumi seems to be that people are tricky and love is complicated – but we can learn to make peace with that.

Engaging, informative and challenging, Jerk Off! is not to be missed.

5 stars

Susan Singfield