Jack Dome

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

Scaffolding

22/08/24

Pleasance (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

Sheridan (Suzanna Hamilton) is in a bit of a fix. After the death of her husband, Emil, she is now the sole carer for her profoundly disabled daughter and has the Adult Social Care representatives snapping at her heels. And, despite having raised a massive amount of money for the restoration of her parish church’s steeple, she now finds that, because of a falling congregation, the church – and the grounds in which Emil is buried – are up for sale.

The vicar isn’t much help, even if he does bear more than a passing resemblance to Hugh Grant – the Notting Hill one, not Paddington 2 – so she’s made a perilous ascent up the titular scaffolding. Here is a place where she can contemplate her woes, not to mention all her recent purchases – the items necessary to build a powerful bomb…

This clever and affecting monologue, written by Lucy Bell and directed by Lillian Waddington, has about it the air of an Alan Bennett Talking Heads piece, a whole wealth of emotion masked by casual flippancy. Hamilton plays the role with assurance, building steadily from nervous anticipation to open despair as she realises she has reached a significant crossroads in her life – and the end of her tether. Bell’s script is equally agile, by turns humorous, acerbic and, ultimately, heartbreaking.

Alice Sales’ set design keeps Hamilton constrained within its claustrophobic confines, emphasising Sheridan’s dilemma. I can feel her building frustration as the story approaches its conclusion. I think I know where all this is headed… but the denouement confounds all my expectations.

In the final days of this year’s Fringe, here’s another production that’s worth catching if you get the chance. It may also be the only show on offer where every single member of the audience gets to be God for an hour. Which, let’s face it, isn’t an offer you get every day.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney