Pleasance Dome

Edfest Bouquets 2026

It’s time to award our fabulous virtual bouquets to our favourite shows from this year’s Fringe, listed below in order of viewing.

Drum roll, please…

Badgers (Traverse Theatre)

“This is a spellbinding production, weaving us into its fabric and leaving us utterly disarmed…”

Mortal Sin (Gilded Balloon Teviot)

” An eloquent piece of work, demonstrating what can be achieved with talent and a modest budget…”

Kirsty Mann: Corpse (Summerhall)

“A highly effective piece of storytelling, masterfully delivered…”

A Ghost Among the Living (Pleasance Dome)

“This may be Box Tale Soup’s finest achievement to date…” 

Endgame (Pleasance at EICC)

“Illuminates Beckett’s dream-like, complex play, making it more accessible than any other version I have seen…”

Jerk Off! (Underbelly Bristo Square)

“As well as Manzoor’s skilled performance, what makes this so powerful is her refusal to offer us any easy answers…’

Playback (Summerhall)

“A wonderfully affecting piece of theatre, made all the more powerful by its use of genuine found-footage…”

Dracula: Lucy’s Dream (Pleasance at EICC)

“A series of almost hallucinogenic scenes, which flow together into a surreal hour of movement, music and puppetry…”

Noted (Assembly Roxy)

“Noted is family-friendly in the best possible way. There really is something here for everyone. It’s silly, funny, clever and astonishing…”

Sanctuary (Pleasance Dome)

“At once tender and raw, the artifice of its clever construction never overpowering its humanity…”

Once again, we leave the Fringe amazed and impressed by the array of theatrical talent and creativity we’ve witnessed. Now for some much needed sleep!

Philip Caveney & Susan Singfield

A Simply Beastly Murder

29/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

Rachel E Thorn’s A Simply Beastly Murder is our last show of this year’s Fringe, and it’s a spiffing one to end on. If you’re thinking ‘British film noir’ and ‘Enid Blyton adventures’ is a ludicrous idea for a genre mash-up, then you’re not wrong. It is ludicrous – gloriously so.

Although the Famous Five famously remained the same age for at least seven years’ worth of school holidays, they have – at last – grown up. For some reason, the often-overlooked middle kid, Dick (Alistair Mckay), prefers to be known as ‘Richard’ these days. He’s a PI, capitalising on his childhood experiences of solving crimes. Several years in the States have eliminated his English accent; he’s now a hard-boiled Marlowe-wannabe, complete with trilby, trench-coat and a drink problem.

But now he’s back in London, and he’s called his sister for help. Anne (Thorn), the baby of the group, has barely changed at all. Goody-two-shoes earnestness is still very much her thing, and she’s shocked to find her brother embracing a dissolute lifestyle. She urges him to return to Kirrin Island with her, but Dick – sorry, Richard – has a mystery to fathom first…

Who killed his girlfriend, Margot?

And will they try to frame him for the simply beastly murder?

Directed by James Stone and with additional voices provided by Alistair McGowan, A Simply Beastly Murder is a cleverly-crafted spoof, intertwining the contrasting styles to great comic effect. Immersing Anne amid the grit and grime of the sleazy underground club Dick frequents allows for plenty of square-peg-round-hole humour. Thorn maximises this by playing her role completely straight. The incongruity is delightful.

The show is playful, utilising a range of theatrical devices which we have been asked not to reveal here. Suffice to say, the invention is impressive. Perhaps the section where Dick is alone on stage, talking to pre-recorded voices, goes on too long; perhaps the plotting could be more ambitious. No matter; the production is slick and accomplished, a perfect digestif to say goodbye to Edfringe 26.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

Sanctuary

27/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Ace Dome), Edinburgh

Set in the 1990s and based on real events, Sanctuary is a compelling play about the AIDS epidemic, offering a brand new perspective on those dark and dreadful days as the UK death toll neared its peak.

Michael (Matthew Tennyson) is ill. He’s moved from London into a remote Suffolk farmhouse, which owner Wendy is planning to turn into an AIDS hospice. She wants to provide a place where sufferers can die in dignity, away from judgement and stigma. Sadly, she’s met with local opposition, so there are currently only two patients: Michael and a trans woman, Mary, who is very close to death.

Michael isn’t too sick yet, but he is frightened and lonely, dithering about whether or not he should just pack up and leave. But then an elderly stranger (Richard Cant) appears in the kitchen. He’s a friend of Wendy’s, he says; he’s hoping she’ll be able to give his hair a trim. Michael is suspicious – and rightly so, it turns out, as the man reveals that, actually, Wendy has asked him to come. She’s worried about her young house guest and thinks that talking to an older homosexual might help.

She might not know much about planning permission or council licenses, but Wendy is canny when it comes to human connection. Although he bristles at first, Michael soon opens up to the unnamed man, sharing his anger, his fear, his shame. He talks about hedonism and drug-fuelled sex; about longing and lost love and the sickening number of funerals he’s been to. The stranger is gentle and understanding, offering just the slightest glimpse of hope…

It’s easy to see why Jacob Sparrow’s spare, uncompromising script caught the eye of the judges of the inaugural Leodis Prize for playwriting. Directed by Josh Seymour, the play is at once tender and raw, the artifice of its clever construction never overpowering its humanity.

There are only four more performances of Sanctuary at this year’s Fringe. Don’t miss your chance to see it!

4.8 stars

Susan Singfield

Overtone

25/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

Tom Brennan’s assured play depicts the ongoing relationship between a young couple, set across two entirely different timelines. Paul (Scott Fletcher) and Maggie (Claire Dargo) are teenagers when we first meet them. Paul has finally managed to get into the choir. Maggie is already an enthusiastic member – and both of them are eager to impress their charismatic choirmaster, Alan. It’s clear from the very start that he exerts a powerful hold over them.

They are both excited about those infamous camping trips he organises, where adolescents get to drink and smoke and party – though of course, you have to receive a personal invite from Alan before you can attend…

Then quite suddenly, the narrative skips forward twenty years. Paul and Maggie are now a married couple, meeting up at a posh restaurant to offer advice and encouragement to their goddaughter, who is about to tie the knot herself. But as the evening unfolds, it quickly becomes clear that Alan still has that same grip on the couple, even though they haven’t seen him in years.

Tightly directed by John Hogarth, I love the way this tale unfolds. I’m initially thrown by those abrupt switches in time but, as the story moves on, they soon fall into place and I begin to fully appreciate what this story is really about: the all-pervading menace of those questionable relationships we sometimes experience as teenagers, and the various ways in which they affect us long term. Overtone deals with themes of abuse and coercion and carries a content warning.

Having experienced such a situation in my own youth, I really relate to this story – and I understand the desperate need that both characters have to keep returning to the man who has been exploiting them for years. Both Fletcher and Dargo deliver pitch-perfect performances and I love David Spence’s simple but effective set design, the curtained backdrop that is gradually opened to reveal the full picture.

This North Wall world premiere is a play worth watching and it’s exactly the kind of project the Edinburgh Fringe was made for. There are only a few days left to catch it at the Pleasance so book your tickets now.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

A Ghost Among the Living

13/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Queen Dome), Edinburgh

There are regular visitors to The Fringe who we wouldn’t dream of missing. Box Tale Soup are one such company.

We first encountered then in 2023’s Casting the Runes, which we loved. 2025’s 1984 was even better. It’s not just that the two central performers are so accomplished. And it’s not that they make all the intricate sets themselves from recycled materials. It’s more that we’re always excited to see where they’ll go next.

This year they take on Edgar Allan Poe. We’re in!

Our narrator (Noel Byrne) takes to the stage and begins to recite Poe’s best-known poem, The Raven. But as he’s talking, a woman dressed in black (Antonia Christophers) prowls into the room and watches balefully from a distance as the narrator segues into another Poe classic, The Tell-Tale Heart. It’s clear that he’s aware of her presence and that her proximity has unnerved him… but who exactly is she? And what has drawn her to this event?

As the stories continue, she becomes the narrator’s assistant, helping him to manipulate those incredible puppets which illustrate each successive story in more detail. As ever, I marvel at the complex and brilliantly designed props that the twosome have conjured up; the incredible attention to detail. Every figurine, every lighting effect, every drape of fabric is a holistic part of the whole, so that there’s never any confusion as to where we are and who is who. As the narrative moves inexorably towards Poe’s masterpiece, The Masque of the Red Death, so the various pieces of the final puzzle slot perfectly together.

This may be Box Tale Soup’s finest achievement to date and I would urge lovers of horror, theatre, puppetry and set design to hurry along to the Queen Dome, where an absolute feast comprising all those different ingredients awaits you. 

But a warning for those of a nervous disposition: this is wonderfully creepy.

If you like it as much as we do (and I’m confident you will), please pass the word on. Productions like this are what the Fringe is all about.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

The Shocking Truth about Flat Earth

10/08/26

Pleasance Dome (Queen Dome), Edinburgh

Most years at the Fringe we chance upon a show that’s so unashamedly good-natured and uproariously entertaining that it’s impossible to resist its pull – and more often than not, that show can be found at the Pleasance Dome. Coincidence? Or are there darker forces at work? (Cue eerie music.)

This year, that show rejoices under the unlikely title The Shocking Truth About Flat Earth – and the fact that the Queen Dome is absolutely sold out suggests that word has already got around about this feel-good lunchtime production. Meet Sharon Hargreaves (Emma Norman), a woman of a certain age, who – like a lot of characters at this year’s Fringe – is coming to terms with a bereavement, though in this case, it’s her beloved dog Sam who has… trotted off. Sharon is spending a little too much time on YouTube and is getting particularly interested in the titular topic, because – well, why not? You have to pass the hours somehow. Sharon’s best friend, Debs (Emma Thornett), is worried about Sharon and impulsively books two tickets for a trip to Las Vegas to watch Adele in concert. As you do.

But at the hotel where the twosome are staying, a Flat Earth Society is having a convention and somehow Sharon gets mistaken for guest speaker, Angela (Leonie Wall). Before she quite knows what’s happening, Sharon has er…agreed to lead an expedition to Patagonia to establish once and for all that the world really is flat. Accompanied by dim-witted online influencers, Bobby (Tom Dickerson) and Brodie (Wall, again), along with ‘just-passing-by’ explorer Dave (Michael Joseph), the intrepid Sharon sets off with high hopes and absolutely no skills whatsoever.

With a book and score by Alex Moneypenny and Adam Tuffrey, this Wolverhampton Grand Theatre production takes off at a sprint, Karl Steele ensuring that his directorial foot is kept firmly on the accelerator throughout. The five-strong cast work their socks off to deliver a hilarious and exhilarating series of songs, dances and quick-fire asides. There’s plenty of audience interaction, the singing and dancing is surprisingly impressive and, while we all kind of know that the expedition is going to ultimately slam into a brick wall because… flat earth… it matters not one jot. Bobby, Brodie & Co. have their red Make Earth Flat Again caps on and huge grins on their faces as the audience delivers a heartfelt standing ovation.

If you’re looking for something deep and meaningful, well, maybe look elsewhere. If on the other hand, you’re seeking an hour of pure unadulterated enjoyment, head for the Queen Dome without further delay – and don’t forget to take your protein bars. It’s a long hike to Patagonia.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Help! I’m Trapped in a One-Woman Show

14/08/25

Pleasance Dome (10 Dome), Edinburgh

Kate Skinner offers a nuanced perspective on widowhood in this frank one-woman show. The septuagenarian actor lost her beloved husband, Ron McLarty, in 2020, after seventeen years of marriage – and has mourned him ever since. “The thing about closure,” she tells us, “is that it isn’t real. It was made up by Oprah.”

But it’s been five years now and Skinner is torn: she doesn’t want to “move on” into a future without Ron, but she’s still here and she wants to live. Over the course of an hour, we learn how she makes her peace with this dichotomy, accepting that her grief will always be present, while forging new connections for herself.

Make no mistake: there are a lot of laughs to be had here. Skinner is searingly open, divulging every detail of her disastrous foray into online dating. It’s refreshing to hear an older person speak so candidly about sex; so often, these voices are muted. Her occasional bitchiness is also amusing, and she’s a born performer, creating a relaxed and intimate tone, so that we feel we’re being taken into her confidence.

There’s not a lot more I can say: this is a gentle and ultimately life-affirming piece of work. It’s a pleasure to spend sixty minutes in the company of this vivacious woman, who is unafraid to address a complex emotional subject that clearly resonates with many in the audience.

3.5 stars

Susan Singfield

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

Rita Lynn: Life Coach

07/08/24

Pleasance Dome (Ace), Bristo Square, Edinburgh

“My suicide note was so good, it made me want to live.”

Enter Rita Lynn, life coach extraordinaire. After all, who better to advise the rich and foolish than a woman at rock bottom with a penchant for hard drugs? 

Imogen Wood (Louise Marwood) used to be a dancer, but it turns out no one wants to employ an addict, who disappears for days on end, then turns up drunk, hungover or high. Stuck in a codependent relationship, she can’t see any way out – until a chance encounter with a wealthy worrier sparks an audacious thought and Imogen’s alter ego, Rita Lynn, is born. For just £250 per hour, she’ll counsel ‘Helen’ – and all her well-heeled friends.

Loosely based on Marwood’s own experience with addiction, this is a cleverly crafted tragicomedy. Not only is her performance a real tour de force, the writing is mightily impressive too; Marwood is clearly a talent. 

She’s extraordinarily engaging, one of those actors who seem to carry their own light, and so we’re irresistibly drawn to Imogen despite her bitchiness, able to see beneath the brittle façade she’s constructed to protect herself from her inner demons. We want her to beat her addiction and emerge happy on the other side.

Marwood also plays a raft of supporting characters, including her toxic boyfriend, her therapist, her clients and her best friend, switching from one to the other, sometimes mid-sentence, never leaving us in any doubt about who she’s meant to be. This is a heightened, almost melodramatic piece, the humour emanating from Imogen’s outrageousness, as well as her biting criticism of the way society wants her to behave. She’s caustic and dismissive, bold and fearless – and as fragile as can be. 

At once laugh-out-loud funny and desperately sad, Rita Lynn: Life Coach is a must-see show. Just don’t be tempted to employ her to sort your problems out. 

4.8 stars

Susan Singfield