Assembly

Lady Macbeth Played Wing Defence

09/08/25

Assembly George Square (Studio One), Edinburgh

The music’s pumping, the lights are flashing and the Dunsinane Hellhounds are warming up on the netball court. There’s no mistaking what kind of show this is going to be: high-octane, in-yer-face, Barbie-pink and lots of fun.

It’s Macbeth, but not as you know it: Macbeth without the monarchs, without the murder – without the men. Macbeth in an Aussie high school, where captaincy of the Year 12 netball team represents the seat of power, and where the Dagger Divas’ prophecies are streamed from Spotify.

“Mac” Beth (Orla Jean Poole) – wing defence – has always dreamed of leading the team. But Coach Duncan (Courtney McManus, who also wrote the book) has other ideas, and promotes Chloe Macduff (Shannon Rogers) instead. Mac is furious. Her best friend, Summer Banquo (Kate Sisley), tries to placate her, but Mac is too fired up to listen. She’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she gains the throne…

Crash Theatre Company’s Perth production pivots onto the Edinburgh scene via the House of Oz. Composer/director Bec Price’s electro-pop score is vibrant and lively, while the lyrics (co-written by McManus, Price and Ana Ferreira Manhoso) are a playful blend of Shakespearean verse and modern vernacular, with the bard’s most famous quotations all present and correct. The choreography (courtesy of Rogers) is suitably vigorous, while the bold costuming cleverly distinguishes the characters – no mean feat when they’re in matching uniforms.

This is a true ensemble piece, and I love the performers’ energy and vim. However, I do think there’s scope for the story to venture into darker territory, for Mac to engage in more nefarious deeds, as LMPWD stops a long way short of its progenitor’s “direst cruelty”. I’d also prefer a less saccharine ending, more akin to the original…

Nonetheless, there’s no denying the dynamic effect of this production: there’s a discernible buzz in the auditorium and plenty of people singing the catchy ‘Thunder, Lightning, Rain‘ on their way out (displaying the lyrics on the backdrop, karaoke-style, is an inspired idea). I find myself playing the score while I’m making dinner, and I’ve no doubt Lady Macbeth Played Wing Defence will prove especially popular with teens.

All hail, “Mac” Beth, that shalt be a blockbuster hereafter.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Other Mozart

05/08/25

Assembly George Square Studios (Studio Two), Edinburgh

You’ve heard of Nannerl Mozart, right?

Nope?

Me neither.

Her brother’s pretty well-known though. He’s so famous he’s known by just one name (which is probably a good thing, considering his original moniker was the unwieldy Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart – although he did later change this to Wolfgang Amadeus).

It turns out “Nannerl” (aka Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia; yep, Mama and Papa Mozart really liked long names) was something of a musical prodigy too, who toured with “Wolfie” when they were both children. This elegant production, written and performed by Sylvia Milo (in rotation with Daniela Galli), finally brings Nannerl out of the shadows and into the light.

It’s no great shock to discover that the reason we don’t know about her is because of her gender. Europe’s aristocracy were happy to watch a little girl perform, less so a grown woman. Here, with great artistry and precision, Milo shows us the toll this must have taken on the talented musician and composer, forced to watch her younger sibling garnering credit and acclaim while her own similar ambitions were thwarted, subsumed into marriage and motherhood.

Sadly, none of Nannerl’s original pieces survive, but Milo’s poised performance is beautifully complemented by Phyllis Chen and Nathan Davis’s compositions, which evoke the era perfectly, allowing us to believe in Nannerl’s genius.

The Other Mozart, directed by Isaac Byrne, is a work of art: a sophisticated blend of monologue, music and movement – and it’s a visual marvel too. The set is the costume; the costume is the set: a giant dress, designed by Magdalena Dąbrowska, fills the entire stage, waiting, predator-like, to trap Nannerl in its fathomless drapes. The image is intensified by Miodrag Guberinic’s cage-like panier, constructed – I think – from music stands, constricting Nannerl but also amplifying her stature, so that she rises monumentally, towering over us, defying us to forget her name.

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

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Theatre Bouquets 2024

It’s been an exciting year for theatre in Edinburgh, so in time-honoured tradition, here are our ten favourite productions from 2024, plus three special mentions.

The House (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“Everything about this performance – the lighting, the music, the props – is exquisite and I love the piece’s grisly sense of humour, its celebration of the darkness of the human soul…”

The Giant on the Bridge (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“A complex, labyrinthine piece that explores a whole range of different moods, moving from plaintive acoustic ballads to propulsive electric rock…”

Blue Beard (Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh)

“All about the seductive allure of darkness, the impulse that makes us devour murder-mysteries and glamourise the bad guys…”

The Sound Inside (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

“Adam Rapp’s exquisite play has all the qualities of a great novel, pulling me deeper and deeper into its labyrinthine heart, providing the audience with puzzles to solve and mysteries to ponder…”

VL (Roundabout at Summerhall, Edinburgh)

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

Summer of Harold (Assembly Checkpoint, Edinburgh)

“An hour-and-a-half of impressive theatre, with snort-out-loud humour as well as profound emotional moments…”

The State of Grace (Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh)

“Whenever I thinkI’ve got the measure of the piece, it twists in another new direction, giving fresh food for thought, breaking down the barriers that I’ve carried around in my head for years…”

A Streetcar Named Desire (Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh)

“Increasingly resembles a deranged carousel with the players caught in its unhealthy embrace, unable to get off the ride until it arrives at its ghastly destination…”

Angels in America: Part One – The Millennium Approaches (Bedlam Theatre, Edinburgh)

“It’s astounding what EUTC manage to achieve with their limited budget: the final scene in particular is a coup de théâtre…”

Treasure Island (Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh)

“A must-see for the festive season – you’ll laugh, you’ll tremble, you’ll tap your feet to the jaunty jigs and reels!’

SPECIAL MENTIONS

The Little Shop of Horrors (Church Hill Theatre, Edinburgh)

Rebels and Patriots (Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh)

Weer (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh)

Susan Singfield & 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…”

Plenty of Fish in the Sea

20/08/24

Assembly George Square (Studio 2), Edinburgh

I hardly know where to begin with this one. Plenty of Fish in the Sea is – bear with me – an absurdist fable about a couple of isolated nuns (Madeline Baghurst and Emily Ayoub), who catch a man (Christopher Samuel Carrol) with their fishing rods; they then take hallucinogenic drugs and have wild sex with him before throwing him back into the sea. If ever proof were needed that the ‘seven basic plots’ theory is flawed, then look no further. I think it’s safe to say you haven’t seen this one before.

Devised by Baghurst and Ayoub of Clockfire Theatre Company, this is a mind-boggling delight. From the forbidding image of St Cotrillard to an obsessive plundering of the ocean and a gluttonous feeding frenzy, this is a play that defies explanation. It’s like being immersed in someone else’s fever dream. I’m hooked.

Clockfire’s roots lie in the Jacques Lecoq Theatre School, so this is – of course – a piece of perfectly-executed physical theatre, with some exquisite clowning. There are numerous elaborate set pieces, an abundance of striking tableaux that linger long after the final bow. There’s the nun (Baghurst), trudging along, pulling everything she owns behind her. There’s Bernadette (Ayoub), the silent novice, administering a mysterious salve to the man’s cheek – and then, cocaine-like, to her own gums. There’s the man (Carrol), passionately kissing a fish. And much, much more.

The props are simple: a cupboard, a bed, a window/picture frame. But they’re inventively designed (by Tobhiyah Stone Feller) and utilised to unsettling effect, with characters emerging, farce-like, from within the cupboard or behind the bed. Daniel Herten’s disquieting compositions add to the feeling of unease.

But what does it all mean? Ayoub says that the piece was “inspired by the modern societal pressures of ‘hook-up’ culture,” and there’s certainly something here about the soul-destroying nature of swiping right to find a mate. But it’s a lot more than that too. There’s surely a skewering of religion and consumerism, a commentary on human greed and the sheer silliness of the rituals we perform on an everyday basis. But Plenty of.. is a slippery fish, and it’s hard to pin it down.

And that’s exactly where its beauty lies.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

The State of Grace

19/08/24

Assembly Rooms (Drawing Room), George Street, Edinburgh

In any given year at the Fringe you’ll find a varied assortment of monologues on offer – some comic, some tragic, some wildly entertaining – but there are others that hit you like a ton of lead, leading you to question and reassess your own long-held beliefs about a specific subject. 

Michaela Burger’s The State of Grace covers all of these bases but mostly belongs in the final category.

The words we hear in this show are not Burger’s, but those of Pippa O’Sullivan – or as she became more widely known around the world, Grace Bellavue, an Adelaide-based sex worker, who was also a writer and influencer. Bellavue struggled with bipolar and PTSD for much of her life, before committing suicide in 2015 at the age of 28.

Bellavue’s mother subsequently entrusted Burger with a whole stack of her late daughter’s writings and even some of her favourite belongings. Burger has used them to create this fascinating show.

When she first walks out onto the small stage of the Drawing Room, Burger is simply herself, but she steps effortlessly into her alter ego and leads the audience deeper into Bellavue’s world.  It’s not so much an impersonation as a transformation. She talks eloquently and provocatively about the lives of sex workers, explaining why there is a need for their business to be recognised and decriminalised, pointing out the dangers inherent in the present system, and the ways in which those who work in the trade are denigrated and discriminated against.

And if this sounds like you’re going to be heading into a po-faced sermon, think again, because it’s performed with wit and nuance and, every so often, Burger sings some of Bellavue’s lyrics, using a loop pedal to overlay her own voice to create ethereal harmonies that seem to shimmer like aural mirages. I love the simple but effective staging here, where a couple of neon rectangles don’t just create a nightclub vibe, but are also used to suggest doorways, portals, a shower cubicle, even a bath into which a reluctant cat is plunged and scrubbed clean. 

And whenever you think you’ve got the measure of the piece, it twists in another new direction, giving fresh food for thought, breaking down the barriers that I’ve carried around in my head for years. In this astonishing, multi-faceted role, Burger is quite simply mesmerising. 

There are only a few more chances to see The State of Grace and, as I have occasionally observed before in week three of the Fringe, I wish I’d seen this earlier in the run, so I could try to coax even more people to see it before it packs its bags and heads back to Australia. 

No ifs or buts. This is a must-see.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Willy’s Candy Spectacular

18/08/24

King Dome, Assembly, Edinburgh

Unless you’ve been living in a cave for the past six months, you’ll doubtless be aware of the ill-fated Willy Wonka Experience held in Glasgow back in February. You’ll surely have read about the ensuing travesty, how parents stumped up £35 for tickets and were incensed when their kids were handed a couple of jelly beans in a near-empty warehouse.

And you’ll have seen the image of young actor, Kirsty Paterson, shoddily dressed as an Oompah Loompah, standing behind a wooden counter/meth lab, looking thoroughly depressed. That meme subsequently went viral and gave Hollywood director Andy Fickman an idea for a new Edinburgh show…

Ironically, a production built around a real-life disaster has already had more than its own fair share of turmoil, with the cast decimated in its opening week by a bout of COVID. But now they’ve got through that and here we sit amidst a sell-out crowd at the King Dome – and the lights go down.

Guitars and drums pump out the opening number at ear-splitting volume (the sound mix is eventually sorted out), ‘David Hasselhoff’ (Wilkie Ferguson) belts out the lyrics while a couple of glitter-clad dancers strut their stuff around him. The song ends and on comes Julie Dawn-Cole (who played Veruca Salt opposite Gene Wilder in the 1971 movie) as our sardonic narrator. She’s accompanied by the actual Kirsty Paterson, who gets to make the occasional remark, but is still pretty glum because not one, not two, but three actors have been employed to impersonate her, while she stands around like a spare part.

Well, that’s theatre for you.

But the show must go on and now here comes the fictional version of event-organiser, Billy Coull. He’s Willy the Impresario (Eric Peterson), here to explain, through the medium of song, exactly what he thought he was doing. Swindling people, I guess, though the lyrics seem to let him off the hook somewhat. Because he did have good intentions. (Did he?)

If sheer energy could make a Fringe hit, then Willy’s Candy Spectacular would be home and dry. But the problem is that this is a show that’s been created solely to parody the crap event that inspired it. Having established that in the first fifteen minutes, it really doesn’t have anywhere left to go. The inevitable result is that it all feels a bit one-note. No matter how hard Peterson and his supporting cast strive to keep things peppy, no matter how many gimmicks are thrown into the mix (scratch and sniff cards anyone?), the show never really takes flight.

There’s perhaps the only positive song about AI I’ve ever witnessed (ably performed by Nicole Greenwood) and a sweet ballad sung by Monica Evans explaining that kids can be entertained by the unlikeliest things, but the fifteen songs have been put together by ten songwriters and, though they get your toes tapping, they don’t really cohere. In fairness, I think I should add that today’s audience shows every sign of enjoying themselves and the applause at the conclusion is enthusiastic.

But I can’t help feeling that the disparate parts of this production don’t quite add up to the feel-good entertainment it so obviously wants to be.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

Summer of Harold

17/08/24

Assembly Checkpoint, Edinburgh

Ensemble Theatre’s three short standalone plays are brought to the Fringe via House of Oz. Written by Hilary Bell and performed by Berynn Schwerdt and Lucia Mastrantone, they form a perfect trinity, and we are treated to ninety minutes of exquisite storytelling.

The opening monologue, Summer of Harold, is all about Janet (Mastrantone), a middle-aged woman clearing out her junk room and reminiscing about the seasonal job she had when she went backpacking in her youth. But nineteen-year-old Janet doesn’t settle for bar work or fruit-picking. Instead, she spends her time in London working as a housekeeper for the titular Harold.

Pinter.

That’s right. Janet – whose story is inspired by the true-life adventures of one Margaret Woodward – provides holiday cover for Harold Pinter’s live-in help. And that summer, with Pinter and his wife, the novelist Lady Antonia Fraser, looms large and bright in Janet’s memories.

Mastrantone is tiny but she fills the stage with her glorious portrayals of the Pinters, as well as their many famous friends and her own chain-smoking Kiwi co-worker, Alison. She encapsulates the bold, vivacious swagger of youth, as the two girls bluff their way into a job they can’t do, and then learn how to do it anyway. Bell’s script is beautifully crafted and Mastrantone more than does it justice.

The second monologue, Enfant Terrible, stars Berynn Schwerdt, a man as big as Mastrantone is small, his gangly frame an interesting visual counterpoint to hers as they swap places and a new tale begins.

Gareth is a ceramicist but he’s not as famous as he’d like to be. More pressingly, he’s not as famous as his erstwhile best friend from art college, even though Gareth was the star back then and the work he’s producing now is definitely much better than anything “Mr Pinch-Pot” could create. Definitely. But his ex-pal is being given a big award so Gareth has to attend the ceremony and act like he is pleased.

There’s also a piece of very old and rancid Camembert he needs to deal with…

Again, it’s flawless. This is perhaps my favourite piece of writing of the three (although they’re all great), and Schwerdt’s performance has real emotional heft. His jealousy and resentment are both visceral and palpable – and any creative who says they don’t recognise these feelings is lying!

The final piece, Lookout, is a two-hander, with Schwerdt as Jonathan and Mastrantone as Rae, two people in their late 50s. It’s Jonathan’s birthday and they’re up a mountain in their special place, remembering the many times they’ve been here before. They haven’t visited recently though; they haven’t seen each other for a while. And Jonathan has some news for Rae that catches her off-guard…

Unlike the first two plays, Lookout relies on the element of surprise, so I won’t reveal too much about the storyline here. Suffice to say, it’s every bit as engaging as its predecessors, and just as skilfully acted.

Damien Ryan’s direction allows the trio of plays to shine. The transitions are particularly well-handled, overtly playful and theatrical. I especially like the device of using Schwerdt as a kind of silent removal man throughout Summer of Harold, carrying away Janet’s boxes one by one, leaving the stage bare and uncluttered for Enfant Terrible.

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. It’s an absolute pleasure from start to finish.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

One Man Musical

16/08/24

Queen Dome, Assembly, Edinburgh

Flo & Joan are established Fringe favourites, loved by many. I enjoy their quirky songs which are celebrations of all matter of unlikely subjects – waiting for an Amazon delivery, the weirdness of their parents’ ornaments, the pressures when siblings make music together… seemingly trivial subjects mined for their sheer silliness. But I’ve often wondered if they might one day apply their undoubted talents to a single theme.

One Man Musical is exactly that, a look at the life of a VERY famous musical theatre entrepreneur – let’s call him “Andy”. He’s played by George Fouracres with such absolute assurance, I can’t help wondering why he hasn’t come to my attention before. He sings, he dances, he tells jokes, he plays the world’s smallest piano and he gives a priceless demonstration of how not to talk to a member of the audience…

Flo & Joan (or Nicola and Rosie Dempsey if you prefer) take a back seat for this one, providing solid support on keyboards and drums respectively and somehow maintaining those trademark impassive expressions. (God knows how, since the sell-out audience spends pretty much the entire hour convulsed with laughter, me included.)

This is wonderfully irreverent stuff and the selection of songs, though as witty as ever, seem to benefit from sticking to one central premise. “Andy”, it turns out, has seen more successful days and is now coasting on his back catalogue. He strives valiantly not to be bitter, but his efforts are in vain. When he sees former partners doing well with other musical collaborators, he can’t resist sticking the knife in.

And he’s keen to point out that a humble white, upper-class, privately-educated lad like him, from a palatial home in England, has really had to struggle to make it in the cut-throat world of musical theatre. A soulful ballad to this effect almost makes me start to feel sorry for “Andy”… until he weighs in with the next bunch of sour grapes.

One Man Musical is an absolute delight and anyone in need of a good laugh should make their way to the Queen Dome where – unless the real “Andy” issues them with an injunction – the show will continue.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

I Sell Windows

12/08/24

Assembly George Square (Studio 4), Edinburgh

Actors Daniel Blinkoff and Tamlyn Tomita, founders of LA Theatre Company Outside In, are committed to making a space where diverse voices can be discovered, evolved and shared. With its almost unimaginable variety of shows (more than three thousand, every day), the Edinburgh Fringe is a perfect match for such an endeavour, and Kacie Rogers’ I Sell Windows is an impressive addition to the programme.

Directed by Jaquita Ta’le, Rogers presents a monologue about love, trauma, thwarted ambition – and selling windows. Casement, sash, bay, awning: ‘Kacie’ can make your dreams come true. But first, you have to stop waiting to be ready and really start living…

The fragmentary structure of the play reflects Kacie’s uneven mental health, as she struggles to come to terms with the death of her grandfather and the realisation that she may never earn a living as an actor. Reeling from the impact of these twin losses, she begins to implode, jeopardising her relationship and spinning out of control. Her breakdown is beautifully illustrated by the use of intricate shadow puppets (courtesy of Brittaney Talbot and Perry Daniel), as well as a sequence of recurring dreams, lit like the Northern Lights. Along with Rogers’ heartfelt a cappella rendition of Tracy Chapman’s iconic Fast Car, this amounts to both a profound character study and a rumination on the ways in which we are taught to value (and undervalue) ourselves.

Performed with verve, wit and absolute precision, I Sell Windows is a thoughtful play, ostensibly about one young Black woman’s experience, but applicable to every one of us.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield