Assembly

Noted

26/08/26

Assembly Roxy (Upstairs), Edinburgh

I’m attracted by The Back Pack’s press release, which promises “playful invention” – a phrase that strikes joy into my heart. It chimes with the ideology of the youth theatre company I work with here in Edinburgh so I arrive with a smile this morning, clutching my coffee, expectations high.

The Back Pack’s dizzying mix of clowning, illustration and animation doesn’t disappoint. We whirl from one scene to another with barely time to catch our breath. A short film – gently amusing; a group of school kids with cartoon backpacks – lots of lols. Puppetry, dance, video, cine-theatre – it doesn’t get more eclectic than this.

Twenty minutes in and there are hundreds of pieces of paper discarded on the stage. I’m grinning like a fool, loving every minute – even though I’m struggling to understand how the performers are managing to keep everything under control. There’s so much of it. Including the entire history of the world…

The live-delay is especially impressive (it’s all impressive, but this stands out). The performers are on stage, moving; we can’t tell what their contortions mean. Thirty seconds behind them, an overhead shot is projected onto the backdrop, creating an array of scenarios: horse-racing, moon walks, synchronised swimming. What’s not to love?

The choreography is stunning. The performers – Pete Betcher (who also directs), Katie Kohler, Alec Silver and Lauren McFall – are all excellent dancers, and they form a perfectly drilled quartet, making this most complex of productions look effortless (which logic tells me cannot be the case).

Noted is family-friendly in the best possible way. There really is something here for everyone. It’s silly, funny, clever and astonishing. An ideal start to the day.

5 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

An Echo in the Void

08/08/26

Assembly Roxy (Upstairs), Edinburgh

Written and directed by Jason Weiss, No Boundaries’ An Echo in the Void deals with the timely topic of AI. When journalist Ivy (Grace Serrano) logs into her regular Sanctuary session, she’s surprised to find three strangers there. It’s supposed to be a private virtual space and should only be populated by those she chooses. But here are soldier Toby (Adam Sinclair), programmer Arthur (Sunkrish Bala) and CEO Miranda (Lee Rodriguez), each as dumbfounded as she is by the others’ presence. What’s happening? Has the tech model gone rogue? And if so, why?

If Arthur is the brains behind the platform, Miranda is the money – and Ivy has long been petitioning to interview them both. As for Toby, he’s the company’s poster boy. Sanctuary offers a safe place, where people can leave their real-world troubles behind for a few hours, so who better to front its ad campaign than a war veteran suffering from PTSD?

But Sanctuary is addictive. If life on-line is so much better than off, why would anyone want to return?

This minimalist production is performed on a bare stage, which works well, echoing the blank canvas of a Sanctuary space. Like the platform’s users, we are invited to create our own imaginary setting. Simple tech is used to good effect, with pinspots emphasising the characters’ isolation, and a repeated sound motif signalling glitches in the machine. The actors inhabit their roles convincingly, and a sense of dread builds steadily.

However, although I applaud Weiss’s decision to eschew set and props, the piece could benefit from some more visual elements. It’s very dialogue-heavy, with a lot of information for the audience to absorb. It would be easier to engage emotionally with some of the more complex sequences if they were played out rather than reported. I also think the actors could change their voices and mannerisms when they are taking on characters from each other’s pasts, in order to clarify exactly who and where they are.

An Echo in the Void questions what it means to be human, when everything we think we are can be so cleverly mimicked by computer code. In the twenty-seven years since the similarly-themed The Matrix was released, the issues have only grown more urgent. It’s hard to imagine a more topical play.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

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