Ed Fringe 2025

James Phelan: The Man Who Was Magic

06/08/25

McEwan Hall at Underbelly, Bristo Square, Edinburgh

James Phelan was probably destined to be a magician. After all, his uncle was the late Paul Daniels, a man known for the infamous catch-phrase, ‘You’ll like this. Not a lot, but you’ll like it.’ Not that I would apply that description to Phelan’s show, which I do enjoy. A lot. It’s bigger, more grandiose than the kind of offering his Uncle Paul was known for and features several WTF moments that have me shaking my head in disbelief.

Phelan enjoyed a palpable success at last year’s Fringe, though we didn’t get the opportunity to add him to our watchlist. This year, you’ll find him in the cavernous surroundings of the McEwan Hall, which is great news for him – the importance of bums on seats is not to be ignored – but in some ways works against him, because some of the tricks inevitably lose their power by being distanced. Though we’re seated in the stalls, I sometimes find myself struggling to maintain a clear sight-line and one routine in particular, which takes place right on the edge of the stage, is lost to view behind a sea of heads.

Of course it would be unfair to share details of any of the illusions; suffice to say that some of them are quite bewildering and I find myself wracking my brains for hours afterwards, wondering how a particular bit of wizardry was achieved. A prominent sign when we enter announces that ‘no stooges are used in the show’ or words to that effect. So how the hell did he…?

Trust me, don’t go down that road.

Overall, The Man Who was Magic is an accomplished production and Phelan is a relaxed performer who takes the audience into his confidence and enjoys playing with their expectations. But I do have reservations. At one point, the theatre is plunged into total darkness for several minutes, which just feels downright suspicious, an opportunity for his stage crew to tinker with things. To give him his due, Phelan announces that he’s not entirely sure about keeping this bit in and I think I agree. We all know there’s no such thing as magic, only the power of suggestion and the trick of misdirection – but for something to be truly astounding, we need to believe we’ve seen every single moment in crystal clear detail.

Still, the audience troops out talking excitedly about what they’ve just witnessed – and at the end of a Fringe show, that’s exactly the effect that every performer is hoping for.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Bury the Hatchet

05/08/25

Pleasance Dome (Queen Dome), Edinburgh

I’ve long been fascinated by the case of Lizzie Borden, after reading Evan Hunter’s fictionalised account of her story back in my youth – and, of course, many people are aware of the little poem that begins, ‘Lizzie Borden took an axe…’

I don’t think I’ve ever used the word ‘playful’ to describe a true-crime drama before – but it’s the first word that springs to mind when thinking about Out of the Forest’s production of Bury the Hatchet. It’s not that Sasha Wilson’s script treats its grave subject disrespectfully, far from it. It’s just that the story is handled in such an offbeat and refreshing way.

This fascinating hybrid – part true-crime investigation, part re-evaluation – looks at all the different threads of the mysterious murder of Lizzie Borden’s parents in the prosperous neighbourhood of Fall River, Massachusetts, in the year 1892. With all the relevant pieces in place, it attempts to make sense of them. Wilson plays Lizzie, while Lawrence Boothman and David Leopold embody a whole cast of different characters, switching from role to role with only a token item of clothing or a simple prop to ensure I’m never confused as to who is who. And trust me, it’s a tangled tale.

At key moments, Lizzie will snatch up a mandolin, while her companions grab a violin and a guitar, and they bash out a series of bluegrass standards (at one point, even a Nina Simone classic), their voices blending in stirring harmony. In other fourth-wall-breaking moments, the actors briefly step out of their guises, bewildered by the complexity of the task they’ve taken on, pausing to question the likelihood of some of the weird evidence submitted by Lizzie in her defence.

‘She said what? Mosquito bites?’

If I’m making this sound too convoluted, don’t be misled. Bury the Hatchet is an inspired piece of theatre, wonderfully propulsive, perfectly judged and by turns shocking, intriguing and acerbically funny. Vicky Moran’s direction keeps everything bubbling away at full throttle so that the pace is never allowed to lag. This is an object lesson in how to pitch a true-crime drama – and how to hold an audience absolutely spellbound.

So was Lizzie Borden guilty of a heinous crime? Did she walk away from the gallows simply by virtue of being a prosperous white woman? Or was there another, more complex explanation for what happened to the Bordens? Whatever the case, they were brutally murdered and nobody ever had to answer for the crime.

Interested parties should make their way to the Pleasance Queen Dome to judge for themselves – and prepare to be utterly captivated by this thrilling production.

5 stars

Philip Caveney