Doonstairs

Motorhome Marilyn

24/08/25

Gilded Balloon Patter House (Doonstairs)

Our last Fringe show of 2025 is Motorhome Marilyn, a choice inspired by my mum, who listened to Michelle Collins talking about the play on Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour, and was taken with its backstory. Back in the late 90s, Collins was in LA, trying to build on her UK fame. While she was there, she noticed an old lady emerging from a dilapidated motor home, dressed as Marilyn Monroe. The image stayed with her for years until, in 2018, she mooted the idea for a play to her writer friend, Stewart Purmutt, and they started work on it. When Purmutt died in 2024, Ben Weatherill took over, and now Motorhome Marilyn – more than quarter of a century in the making – has finally parked up at this year’s Festival.

The set, by Joshua Beaumont and Matthew Emeny, is pretty lavish by Fringe standards. We’re inside a camper van, stuffed to the pop-top with Monroe memorabilia. There are posters, tea towels, mugs and cushion covers: if there’s an available surface, Marilyn’s face adorns it. And there’s Denise (Collins), a Marilyn lookey-likey, whose own identity has been subsumed over the years, so that she’s no longer sure who she really is.

There’s also Bobby, Denise’s confidante, who just happens to be a snake…

Directed by Alexandra Spencer-Jones, the story works quite well: there’s a Miss Havisham-like quality to Denise, who is tragically stuck in a role she’s aged out of. Her hopes for stardom have come to nought, but she’s nothing else to cling to, no option but to don that platinum-blonde wig and paint on a scarlet smile. Collins imbues the character with pathos, although there are moments when I’d like to to see her emotions heightened – with some Eastenders-style excessiveness, perhaps.

Occasionally, too much is spelled out for the audience: we are not left to infer anything, but spoon fed each detail. This detracts from the authenticity of the dialogue, which is a shame. Nonetheless, Motorhome Marilyn is a sometimes funny and always engaging piece of work, an ode to failure and broken dreams.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Michelle Brasier: Legacy

18/08/24

Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose (Doonstairs), Edinburgh

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

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

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

But not everything that happens is banal.

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

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

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

4 stars

Susan Singfield