ROTUS: Receptionist of the United States

04/08/25

Gilded Balloon Patterhoose (Snug), Edinburgh

Meet Chastity Quirke (Leigh Douglas), a God-fearing young Republican, who has used all her guile and skills to manoeuvre her way from humble intern to the coveted role of receptionist at the White House – or, as her good friend president Drumpf likes to refer to her, ROTUS. If you want to meet Drumpf you have to get past Chastity first.

Loyal, determined and always ready to turn a blind eye to the underhand dealings she’s witness to on a daily basis, Chastity finds herself surrounded by ruthless congressmen, who count on her to act as their eyes and ears, ready to tip them off to anything they might use to their advantage. She’s ruthless – and has the requisite skills to make any innocent remark she makes sound like an indecent proposal.

Chastity believes that she has what it takes to stay at the top of her nefarious game. But is she a player? Or is she simply being played?

With the current smouldering powder keg that is US politics, ROTUS couldn’t be any more topical – and Douglas, who also wrote the whip-smart script, is an assured and confident performer. This is as bitingly funny as it is disturbing to witness, as we watch Chastity manipulating her way through the rampant misogyny and deceitfulness of the MAGA patriarchy. Director Fiona Kingwill keeps everything stripped back and allows Douglas to strut her stuff: the result keeps the audience hooked until the final moment. Little wonder the relatively compact Snug is selling out on a daily basis.

Those who fancy a slice of this delicious satire should book tickets at the earliest opportunity. As we take our seats, Storm Floris is raging outside but Douglas cooks up her own perfect storm on the little stage in front of us and we are spellbound. Don’t miss this one, it’s a keeper.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

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

Alright Sunshine

03/08/25

Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

Edinburgh playwright Isla Cowan is making quite a name for herself in Scottlish theatre – and it’s easy to see why. We’ve watched two of her previous pieces (2023’s And… And… And… and 2024’s To Save the Sea) and been mightily impressed; today’s production of Alright Sunshine is even better: an intense monologue about being a woman, being a police officer, and the darkness lurking behind sunny days on the Meadows. 

PC Nicky McCreadie (Molly Geddes) is dedicated to her job. It comes first: before her family, before her relationships, before her health (who has time for eggs for breakfast when there’s a Greggs on the way to work?). Her dad was polis too, and she’s determined to be the kind of officer he’d be proud of… if he were alive. She’ll be as strong, as focused, as brave as he always urged her to be. She won’t give in to her feelings. She won’t cry. She won’t be weak like her mum. She won’t be a girl.

Directed by Debbie Hannan, Cowan’s taut, almost poetic script is brought powerfully to life by Geddes’ mesmerising performance: a tour de force with real emotional heft. The playful, observational tone of the opening sections – where the park’s ‘timetable’ is humorously detailed – is skilfully undercut by the gradual disclosure that all is not okay in PC Nicky’s world. She’s seen too much, given up too much, suppressed too many emotions in her bid to be the perfect policewoman. Now that carefully-constructed carapace is breaking apart and she has no idea what she’s supposed to do.

It would be a crime to reveal any more than this; suffice to say that this is a compelling play with an important message at its heart. If you can watch it without giving in to your feelings, without crying, without being a girl, then you probably need to talk to someone. Soon.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Consumed

03/08/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

In a suburban home, somewhere in Northern Ireland, a ninetieth birthday celebration is about to begin. Gilly (Andrea Irvine) is preparing a special meal for her mother, Eileen (Julia Dearden), sparing no expense. After all, as Eileen seems to delight in pointing out, this might be her last chance for a decent shindig. Gilly’s daughter, Jenny (Caoimhe Farren), has travelled all the way from that London especially for the occasion, but – wouldn’t you know it – there’s no sign of her husband. Instead, she’s brought along her teenage daughter, Muireen (Muireen Ní Fhaogáion), who is… whisper it… a vegetarian.

But as the celebration gathers pace, it soon becomes clear that something here isn’t quite right. Why can’t the four generations of women find some common ground? Why is Eileen so dismissive of her visitors’ privileged lives? And… why is there absolutely no sign of Gilly’s husband?

Karis Kelly’s pitch-dark comedy, Consumed, winner of the Women’s Prize for Playwriting in 2023, is a multi-layered tale of intergenerational conflict, sumptuously situated in Lily Arnold’s incredibly realistic set, where even items of food appear to be genuinely cooked and served as we watch. The four characters are all convincingly portrayed, with Dearden ruling the roost as a gloriously foul-mouthed Granny from Hell, levelling her curses at Feinians and the English with equal venom.

Meanwhile, Muireen can’t understand why Gilly’s house is so cluttered with plastic bags and other non-recyclables – is she turning into a hoarder? And when people ask awkward questions, why does Jenny always seem to take refuge in a glass of red wine?

As a whole series of twists are gleefully unravelled, the pressure cooker atmosphere in the house steadily builds up an explosive head of steam. In the final stages, there’s an abrupt twist from realism to a kind of dreamlike symbolism, as Eileen and Muireen enter a shared experience – and it’s in this section that for me, the play loses a little of its drive.

But quibbles aside, Consumed is a delicious confection, sensitively directed by Katie Posner – an affecting narrative, which has me laughing throughout, while also giving me plenty to think about.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Shake Rag Hollow

02/08/25

Assembly (Front Room), Edinburgh

The Edinburgh Fringe is a place where precious gems can sometimes be unearthed in the unlikeliest places. Shake Rag Hollow is a perfect example of the phenomenon. This tightly-constructed three-hander, written by Arlene Hutton (whose Blood of the Lamb was also a bit of a revelation back in 2023) and directed by Eric Nightengale, is set at the top of a mountain in Southern Tennessee – though in reality, it’s taking place in an unprepossessing metal storage container on George Street. 

That gentle voice we can hear, extolling the virtues of the eponymous hollow, belongs to the late Sherman, who always loved this place, and delighted in revealing its charms to his young niece, Denise. But Sherman is long gone and now Denise’s daughter, Laurel (Sofia Ayral-Hutton), lives in the remote cabin with her grandmother, Pauline (Beth Links). Denise has been in prison for years, convicted of a horrendous crime, and Laurel has learned to despise the mother she has never met.

But then Denise (Dana Brooke) turns up unannounced, lugging a suitcase and looking for somewhere to stay. Recently released, Denise needs space to complete the online Masters in psychology she’s so close to achieving. Pauline grudgingly gives her daughter sanctuary, despite Laurel’s hostility – and, as Denise and Laurel gradually start to connect, unexplained mysteries from the past begin to resurface – raising questions that have remained unanswered for far too long…

This is a powerful play that gradually builds to a shattering crescendo. The three actors portray their characters with authority, allowing the audience to vividly imagine the rural setting, so that I can accept that an upturned table and a couple of chairs represent a wild forest through which Denise and Laurel must pick their way – and that a humble cardboard box really can hold the key to so many secrets. Brooke in particular manages to convey the inner desperation of her character, a woman seething with pent-up trauma, who has been obliged to live with a lie for decades and is now finally confronting the truth – and Ayral-Hutton is also compelling as the naïve and impressionable Laurel.

The climax when it arrives actually brings me to tears. This play deserves as big an audience as can be crammed into the available space, so my advice would be to book your tickets for this one before it’s swamped.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Hold the Line

02/08/25

Pleasance Courtyard (Bunker Two)

Hold the Line is the type of theatre that speaks to its time. Right here, right now, when the nation’s beloved NHS has been starved of funds for the past two decades, is exactly the moment for writer/performer Sam Macgregor to shine a spotlight on one of its least glamorous aspects, the 111 non-emergency helpline.

Gary (Macgregor) is a call-handler. The job has more in common with other call-centre work than it does with what we usually think of as healthcare, but with emotional trauma thrown into the mix. In amongst the standard queries there are, of course, the timewasters, ranging from the humorously trivial (“I’ve got a lash in my eye”) to the pointlessly abusive (“Fuck off!”). But there are also desperate people who, unable to get a GP appointment or unwilling to face an eight-hour wait in A&E, stretch the definition of ‘non-emergency’ beyond recognition, forcing Gary to exceed his remit. He’s not a medic: how can he be responsible for matters of life and death? And yet here he is, the only point of contact in a situation he’s not trained for, as his boss tells him there’s no clinician available just yet, so keep the patient on the line… 

Macgregor imbues the protagonist with a raw humanity, while Gabriela Chanova takes on the supporting roles, most notably Tim, calling about his diabetic dad, and Tony, Gary’s supervisor. Regular disembodied tannoy announcements remind Gary (and us) that he has targets to meet, that ‘comfort breaks’ are essentially selfish, causing waiting times to escalate, and that everything he does is being monitored. There is no downtime, no space to process difficult calls and no information available about the outcomes. As so often seems to be the case, the caring professions are not cared for. 

Director Laura Killeen utilises the small space well: Tony’s agitated pacing back and forth along the same path, over and over, serves to underscore the repetitive nature of the work, as well as the  sense of being on a treadmill, going nowhere fast. I also like the simplicity of the design (by Nalani Julien) with its central focus on Gary’s desk, and the cunningly hidden phones, which are used to good effect in the frenetic ‘workout’ routine, highlighting Gary’s inner turmoil. 

I have just one criticism: the section where Macgregor plays ‘Top Brass’, showing how Tony faces the same pressures as Gary, makes some important points, but it’s somehow weaker than the rest of the play, the polemic less artfully disguised. 

That aside, Hold the Line is a tight two-hander, holding up a dark mirror to the state of our health service. Voices like Macgregor’s highlight what’s happening – and hopefully help to bring the change we need. 

4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Naked Gun

01/08/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Yes, I know, it’s Fringe 2025 and I appreciate that in August that generally takes precedence over movies – but damn it, this is the reboot of The Naked Gun, which I’ve been eagerly awaiting since they released the trailer several months ago. 

For those of you who weren’t around for the original way back in 1988, some back story may be appropriate.

Inspired by the TV series, Police Squad, The Naked Gun starred Leslie Neilsen as Detective Frank Drebin, a useless cop with a predilection for landing himself in the worst kind of trouble possible.The first film, directed by David Zucker (who also gave the world Airplane!), was a palpable hit and two decent sequels followed (in 1991 and 1994 respectively). The films also gave Neilsen’s co-star Priscilla Presley an opportunity to shine – and sharp-eyed viewers may spot her in a brief cameo here. The trilogy were outrageous spoofs of the hardboiled detective genre and Nielsen’s approach was to act the central role with the kind of gravitas an actor might apply to Hamlet, completely oblivious to the madness exploding all around him. It was an approach that created comedy gold.

This reboot, directed by Akiva Schaffer, centres around Drebin’s son (played by Liam Neeson, who seems an intelligent choice for the part). He’s clearly a chip off the old block, though – unlike his dad -Frank Junior has the combative skills of a Ninja warrior, as is proved in the opening scene in which, initially disguised as a schoolgirl, he single-handedly takes on a gang of vicious bank robbers and beats the crap out of them. (This isn’t a spoiler: anyone who has seen the trailer will know this, as it pretty much shows the entire sequence.)

For the most part, Neeson adopts his predecessor’s approach, ignoring the general chaos and his own stupidity in his single-minded approach to getting the job done by any means possible. Presley’s role is taken by Pamela Anderson, as novelist Beth Davenport, a woman with her own personal axe to grind. (Anderson actually auditioned for the original film back in the day so it’s nice to see her finally getting to grips with the part.) Paul Walter Hauser plays Frank Jnr’s sidekick, Ed Hocken Jnr.

Their adversary this time out is the oleaginous Richard Cane (Danny Huston), a tech-billionaire who has built his massive fortune on a range of electric automobiles – hmm, I wonder where they got that idea from? It’s revealed early on that Cane has come up with an evil – and quite frankly loopy –  plan to achieve world domination….

The plot is, as you might expect, utter nonsense, a thinly-veiled excuse to link together a seemingly endless stream of slapstick routines and dumb one-liners, which is pretty much the object of the exercise. Okay, so if I’m being scrupulously honest, The Naked Gun 2025 rarely rises to the inspired heights of its progenitor, but much of that might be that the world has changed irrevocably since the 1980s and the audience’s appetite for this kind of rampant stupidity has inevitably waned. There are attempts here to incorporate new elements into the proceedings – a fantasy sequence set during a skiing weekend and featuring a magical snowman seems to have wandered in  from a different genre entirely, but it still manages to make me laugh.

Neeson and Anderson provide the heart of this film and, if recent rumours are to be believed – that the pair of them genuinely have become a couple – well, that’s nice to hear. Whether this film can make a big enough dent on the box office to justify a sequel remains to be seen. But, overall, I enjoy it and I suspect there are plenty of others out there who will feel the same.

Oh, and those of you who are prepared to sit through the lengthy credits till the very end will be rewarded with… ah no, you’ll have to see for yourselves.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Lucky Tonight

31/07/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Lucky Tonight is an interactive play/pub quiz, performed by its creator, Afreena Islam-Wright. It’s a fascinating theatrical hybrid, the form mirroring the tale. After all, Afreena is used to having a foot in more than one camp: this show explores the complexities of growing up Asian in Manchester: part Gorton-rebel, part Bangladeshi-brainbox. Islam-Wright is an engaging storyteller, skilfully creating a relaxed, informal vibe as the genial host, before slowly revealing a much darker undertone.

Perhaps the vibe is a little too relaxed: Islam-Wright interrupts her own flow with frequent questions to both her director (Julia Samuels) and the tech desk, asking for clarification of where she’s up to or if she’s missed a chunk of text. This isn’t billed as a work-in-progress, so I’m a little disconcerted by these moments. The vast number of largely unnecessary props cluttering the stage doesn’t help. I like the ramshackle spirit of the piece, but I think it needs a more solid base, with clearer audio and visual clues to keep the protagonist’s complex narrative on track.

The quiz is fun, nicely judged so that it feels challenging without being impossible. We’re given tablets and some simple instructions, and we all enter gamely into the competition. Without giving anything away, there are some audaciously-themed rounds, which add edge and a sense of jeopardy. I think there’s scope to take these further, to make the piece more impactful. (Aside: thanks to our third team member’s impressive music knowledge, we actually win the quiz!)

Islam-Wright captures our sympathy: it’s impossible not to empathise with a young woman caught in a trap between her own desires and her family’s demands, finding a way to make peace with the people she loves without compromising who she is. The tone is gentle throughout, creating an unsettling contrast with what is revealed – and, for me, this is the show’s strength. I’m like the proverbial frog who doesn’t notice he’s immersed in boiling water until it’s too late, and I leave the Traverse after what’s felt like a fun-filled ninety minutes, surprised to find myself in awe of Islam-Wright’s resilience and my mind focused on deeper themes.

All in all, Lucky Tonight offers a fresh approach to a coming-of-age story. With more precision and a willingness to push the boundaries, it could be something really great.

3.3 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

Unforgivable

27/07/25

BBC iPlayer

Here’s that rarest of things: a full length, original film (as opposed to a TV series) from the BBC. A film, moreover, scripted by veteran playwright, Jimmy McGovern, who has been creating his his own brand of Liverpool-based drama since the early 1980s. Unforgivable, as the name suggests, makes for harrowing viewing. Indeed, it’s so unremittingly bleak that I find myself wondering if any of the central characters are going to catch a break somewhere down the line, but happily the story’s conclusion does at least offer a hint of redemption for its protagonist.

He is Joe (Bobby Schofield), a young man currently serving out a prison sentence for sexually abusing his teenage nephew, Tom (Austin Haynes). Since the incident, Tom has become electively mute, saying no more than ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Joe is hated by just about everybody he encounters and that includes his sister, Anna (Anna Friel), who is struggling to cope with her traumatised son and his older brother, while desperately attempting to hang on to her job at a local supermarket. But then Joe and Anna’s mum dies, just as Joe’s parole comes up. He is summarily informed that he cannot return to the area where the abuse took place, not even to attend his own mother’s funeral.

Former nun, Katherine (Anna Maxwell Martin), takes pity on Joe and accepts him into her halfway house. She also invites him to talk about his issues and, in returning to the subject of Tom’s abuse, Joe realises that in many ways he is as much a victim as a perpetrator…

All the time-honoured elements of a McGovern script are in place: a thorny central premise with no easy solution, a raft of superb performances – Haynes is particularly impressive, managing to convey utter misery despite having barely any dialogue – and Schofield too evokes our sympathy. Here is a man who has come to despise himself so much that, when pursued by a angry mob of vengeful thugs, he chooses to turn and accept his punishment. Friel utterly convinces as a woman pushed to the edge of reason and David Threlfall does his usual wonderful job as her father, Brian: quiet, brooding and terribly conflicted by something in his own recent past.

This compelling drama, sensitively directed by Julia Ford, has a central question at the heart of it. Do men who are abused as children and then go on to abuse others deserve any sympathy? McGovern never really provides a cogent answer, nor do I think he ever intended to. But there’s no denying that this powerful drama raises the issue with enough conviction to make us ponder if we really have the right to deny forgiveness.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney