21/08/25

The Pleasance Dome (King Dome), Edinburgh

We’ve reached that point in August where, when I see a fabulous show at the Fringe, I come away wishing I’d caught it earlier, all the better to extoll its virtues. Mind you, Teater Katapult’s The Insider is selling out the Pleasance’s 174-seat King Dome with apparent ease, so perhaps they don’t need any help from me.

As we file into the performance space, we cannot help but notice actor Christoffer Hvidberg Rønje, dressed in a smart business suit, glaring balefully at us from the confines of a large glass cubicle, like some exhibit in a freakish zoo. He will not emerge from his enclosure until the play is done. As per our instructions, we all put on the stereo headphones we’ve been supplied with to be greeted by the sound of a blues performer singing about money and how he needs it really REALLY badly. (Well, we’ve all been there.) Then the lights go down on us, the glass box is illuminated and the play begins.

It’s 2017 and Hvidberg Rønje plays a banker – we are never given his name – involved in the Cum-Ex insider trading scam that resulted in high street banks losing billions of dollars. But now he’s been called to answer for his actions. The actor speaks his lines to a series of pre-recorded accomplices and inquisitors and, because it’s all filtered through headphones, every single utterance – every bump, squeak and scratch – is weirdly amplified in the crucible of my head. The result is totally immersive and weirdly compelling. It’s astonishing that somebody like me – a poster boy for dyscalculia – can be transfixed by a story about mathematics, but there’s no other adjective for the state in which I find myself.

That glass box where the story plays out could so easily be reductive, but the walls occasionally feature vivid projections and rows of information. Occasionally, Hvidberg Rønje draws on the glass with a white pen, illustrating how the great scam was achieved in ways that even I can understand.

The actor goes through a whole range of moods during the performance – the sequence where he makes his first ‘killing’ has him dancing around his enclosure in a drunken frenzy and performing a gymnastic leap from the top of a filing cabinet that makes me gasp – and, once again, that amplified sound system has us sharing every mood with him, from those early bouts of ecstatic glee to a sense of mounting paranoia as his malpractice is uncovered.

Brilliantly directed by Johan Sarauw, with sound design by Peter Albrectsen and Sun Tee Engelstoft, The Insider is quite simply mesmerising. If you can get hold of a ticket for one of its last few performances, I urge you to do so. You’ll be watching one of the Fringe’s most original productions.

5 stars

Philip Caveney