Reviews by Katie Daniel

Edinburgh has a rich history – and an even richer natural world to observe. That’s the focal point of Hutton in Edinburgh. Using James Hutton’s ideas on nature and the evolution of the Earth, this walking tour invites people to see the city through an entirely new lens.Hosted by Angus Miller, the tour takes us on a journey through Edinburgh’s landscape, exploring how Hutton saw the world hundreds of years ago. But it’s not just Miller who leads the way – James Hutton and his sister Isabel also join the tour. Through actors and an original script, the pair are brought vividly back to life. It’s a great way to share information while blending storytelling with immersive theatre. I was pleasantly surprised when we turned a corner and found two actors in period costume recounting their life stories.The walking tour itself is peaceful and slow-paced – perfect for those who want a gentle stroll through nature, mixed with history and a chance to learn more about geology and the Earth. It’s easy to take the landscape around us for granted as something that’s just there, but this tour made me stop and really think about what Arthur’s Seat means in a geological context – and how beautiful Edinburgh truly is.This is a tour led by people who have a clear passion for Edinburgh’s natural history. As someone with little background in Hutton, science or geology, I never felt lost or confused. Occasionally, the script felt a little clunky – but I always had a smile on my face whenever the actors playing James and Isabel appeared.This is a tour worth doing. It’s a calm, engaging walk in a peaceful part of the city, offering a moment to breathe amid the hustle and bustle of daily life. Hutton in Edinburgh is easy to follow and an easy way to learn something new.

Mary: A Gig Theatre Show brings Mary Queen of Scots back to life in a story we think we know, but told in a fresh and inventive way. A dynamic group of performers use new music to reimagine the life of the famous queen.Each of the performers had moments where they held the audience’s attention. From striking guitar solos to powerful vocals, the sound of the show felt full and balanced. Nothing dragged, and no one on stage looked like they weren’t having the best night of their lives. Often, they included the audience to make sure we were too.The concert atmosphere worked well. The performers used their space beautifully – taking over corners and aisles – in a way that felt engaging. The concept of Mary Queen of Scots telling her story through a gig was executed with flair. Audience involvement was frequent, from clapping along to even a brief singalong. At no point did I feel separate from the action.An hour may not feel long enough to tell the life story of a queen – and I found myself wishing it lasted two hours, it was that entertaining – but the show did cover many key moments. Still, I wanted more storytelling, both in terms of structure and in my sheer enjoyment of the production. Some transitions felt abrupt, yet the history being told, combined with the music’s emotional pull, kept me invested.This is a must for anyone who loves inventive storytelling and live music. If you think you already know the story of Mary Queen of Scots, Mary: A Gig Theatre Show offers a bold and surprising new way to hear it.

It can be hard to imagine an afterlife where a punk from the 2000s and a girlie-girl from the 90s are forced into limbo together, but Perfect Dead Girls, by Elizabeth Robbins and Chelsea Grace, brings to life a dead world built on those oppositional ideas.Perfect Dead Girls follows two unnamed dead girls in their afterlife – exploring what makes them tick and the events that defined their lives. The two are complete opposites, yet form an odd friendship despite their circumstances. Robbins and Grace bring these characters to life – or death – perfectly. The world is shaped by their contrasting styles and personalities. It is a thrill to watch them in short but impactful scenes with seamless transitions between each other, keeping the audience captivated even in the gaps.While the concept is intriguing, some questions remain unanswered. The world created through character work and set design is compelling, yet the story could have been more driven. For every moment that lands like a punch to the gut, there are equally many I wished had been explored further.This is a play worth seeing. Despite areas that feel too open, the chemistry between the two actors and the imaginative world they build makes it compelling. The piece is both comical and heartbreaking in its approach, which many will appreciate.

The experience of being a girl in her 20s and living through a global pandemic is both unique and universal. Fruitcake manages to make this a true statement. While not everyone was a girl during the pandemic, everyone can find a part of themselves in this play.Fruitcake is a brand-new play by Dulcie Johnson and Tildy Poisner. They capture the weirdness of living through a global pandemic and still feeling that life needs to keep moving, as presented by five girls living in one home together. Through the ups and downs, I grew increasingly connected to these girls. Their comedic timing is brilliant, and their chemistry is off the charts. The whole play is simply a charming and fun time.The poetry interspersed throughout is as well written as the straight scenes, though it sometimes feels a little disjointed from the main portions of the play. At times, I wanted more from the scenes themselves. It does not feel as if there are many stakes for the girls, and the conflict could be stronger. While the plot did not always draw me in, the chemistry of the cast and the wittiness of the writing did. I always found it comedic, even if, just as often, the play’s drive seemed lacking.Fruitcake is worth seeing for its fun atmosphere and creative writing. It might not be the most action-filled play – but it is a worthwhile experience – especially for girls who lived through a pandemic.

If something odd, funny, and a little spooky is what you’re looking for at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, then look no further than Baron Vordenburg’s Guide to the Paranormal. Although actual paranormal antics are minimal, Baron Vordenburg offers an absurd glimpse into his world of darkness and evil.This show is one to watch – even if it is not a show at all. Rather, it is a lecture hosted by Baron Vordenburg – along with sidekicks Grotesque and Gothic – preparing audiences on how to protect themselves from the paranormal. Even before the Baron walked on, I was drawn in by one of the actors in the booth in full costume, including just a dash of blood and an unsettling mask. Then, as the show started, those unafraid to sit in the front row were greeted by two women unafraid to stare back at the audience. Truly, the spooky atmosphere was set well.Just as I thought I knew what to expect from the show, the more comedic elements started. This tonal shift was weird and perfect all at once. It was a good reminder that I had signed up for a dark comedy, and it certainly got both dark and comedic. One of the best parts of these more comedic elements was Grotesque and Gothic. The two had wonderful comedic timing, and in playing characters that did not speak, they used their bodies to convey the story. Their comedy blended with costumes covered in blood made me wonder if I should run for my life or keep watching them galavant on stage. As things played out I could not help but wonder if everything I knew about the main trio was wrong. And I always found myself thinking about those two women at the beginning – so unabashedly afraid to stare back.As a play with a small ensemble, everyone had their moments of standing out and often made me wonder which direction I should look. Should I look at the Baron and his overpowering demeanour? Grotesque and Gothic letting the audience in on a little secret? Or should I still be worried the front door might open and let someone else in? Everyone left me enraptured and my eyes roamed to everyone. Though there are not heavy technical elements in this intimate space with an intimate cast, I felt a part of their story, not separate.Baron Vordenburg’s Guide to the Paranormal is a show that will stick with me. Perfect for people who like weird theatre and shows that don’t do what you expect them to.

Faustine: A Dissertation, A Breakdown, A Confession, A Mental Breakdown reminds you that sometimes the most horrifying things are what people are capable of. Written, composed and performed by Lydia Brinkman and Sarah Norcross, the show drew me in immediately with an eerie atmosphere and music that made Hell feel very real – and I was going to be part of it for the next 50 minutes.The story follows Faustine, who sells her soul to the Devil for the sake of her dissertation and a good grade. It’s equal parts smart and scary, as Faustine – and the musical itself – question how far she’ll go to get ahead. The answer? A lot.Brinkman and Norcross also offer the possibility of seeing a different show each time. Faustine is already worth seeing once, but it might be worth seeing twice, as the two performers alternate playing the titular role in this one-woman show. I saw Norcross embody the wickedness that slowly takes over Faustine, with a creepy smile that sent shivers down my spine every time she looked at me – and in such a small space, she’ll be looking at everyone. Her transitions between Faustine and the other characters were clear and often deeply unsettling.This show didn’t have me shaking in my boots every minute, but I was frequently shocked by its twists. The actual jump scares are limited, which benefits the tale rather than detracts from it. Be ready to question the morality of higher education, not to be jumped at in the dark.The technical elements are strong and well used, with ominous red lighting and soft blue tones showing Faustine’s initial innocence. The one downside was the volume, which was quite loud at times – occasionally making words hard to make out or creating a discomfort that didn’t feel deliberate. Still, Faustine is a show I’d see again, though it’s worth letting audiences know what to expect.This musical’s strongest moments lie in its ability to leave your skin crawling – knowing evil exists, and that it doesn’t always look the way you expect.

Little Shop of Horrors is a true classic of musical theatre – making it hard to decide whether to see it or not. This production makes that a harder question to answer. While the wheel does not need to be reinvented every time a theatre stages Little Shop of Horrors, there are some expectations of the show that were – and were not – met.Rhys Crawford as Seymour blew me away from his first appearance on stage. He was certainly a standout performer and one of the best parts of the whole production. From vocal quality to physical performance, he had me from the beginning. While the rest of the cast and ensemble held their own, I did not feel as gripped by their performances as I was by Crawford. Additionally, it’s worth noting that two actors play Seymour across the run – creating a whole new viewing experience depending on which show you attend.Technical theatre is an integral part of any production – especially this one. While the Audrey II puppet had me feeling like I was in the same room as a man-eating plant, little else did. There were several things that stuck out – odd costuming, makeup choices and awkward blackouts. These strange elements, mixed with the power of the puppet, made for a mixed viewing experience.Ultimately, this production has its ups and downs – like any show might. If Little Shop of Horrors is one of your favourite musicals, this is a production worth seeing for Crawford’s performance alone. But if it’s a show you’re not especially drawn to, this one might be one to miss.

Let Edinburgh come alive in front of your eyes in a very different way. Instead of seeing the world through the sights, see it through words. Edinburgh becomes a whole new world when walking around places that might easily be missed when you are able to see it through the lens of the poetic word.Local Edinburgh poet Ken Cockburn hosts the literary walking tour of Edinburgh – Embro, and through this, he showed me an Edinburgh alive with literature. Using poetry, Cockburn brings to light the history of Edinburgh through the eyes of poets like Victor Hugo, Edwin Morgan, and even prose from Dorothy Wordsworth. This tour has it all. I was able to see an Edinburgh I had not imagined I would see and was enraptured from the beginning.Throughout the tour the poems become an integral part of understanding Edinburgh. Each stop has history and someone to tell that story, moving through time with every poet. Cockburn made a tour that revealed it is one thing to see Edinburgh and another thing to feel Edinburgh. Each poem or literary piece provided a new perspective to have on some of Edinburgh’s most famous spots, such as Holyrood Palace, Arthur’s Seat, and more. Cockburn himself presents a deep passion for the information he is presenting, always allowing time for questions, comments, and pictures of the sights.This tour allows for seeing Edinburgh through the eyes of others – both through their real eyes and imagined ones. Though it may be a niche not everyone will fill it is certainly worth checking out if the idea of viewing Edinburgh through the words of someone else piques your interest this is certainly for you. It also allows for those deeply fascinated in poetry to find another great Edinburgh spot – the Scottish Poetry Library. So, if poetry, history, and a little bit of Scottish architecture is something you love then think about taking a walk through Edinburgh along with the famous poets Ken Cockburn brings along from history.

Around me I heard several people say, “Wow, it’s dark in here” – and dark it was. Both in the room and in the story that followed. Scatter: A Horror Play left me reeling from beginning to end, in a space where every time one person was scared, we were all scared.The play follows Tom as he recounts travelling to a small village in Wales to scatter his father’s ashes with his brother. Patrick McPherson plays the role, and for an hour he held my attention in this one-person show. Strategically, the set consisted only of a single chair covered in leaves and rot. It made my stomach churn the moment I saw it, and I couldn’t look away. Beyond that, McPherson built the rest of the world himself – the quaint village, the woods, the run-down B&B – and he did build this world.Every movement suggested the space he was in. His physicality and timing made everything feel real, even if it existed only in Tom’s memory. McPherson gave a performance that made me fear for Tom and be afraid of Tom. At times, his comic timing was spot-on – quickly followed by a jolt of terror – so the audience never truly relaxed, which is exactly what the show wants. And going in knowing it was meant to be scary, I’m glad I never did. I was uneasy from the first moment, even before McPherson appeared.Alongside the stripped-back set, the lighting design was phenomenal – from classic flickers to deep reds that darkened until the room was almost pitch black. Every element served the story, and when I wasn’t watching McPherson, I was bracing for the next scare.If you enjoy being frightened, this is a must-see. If you don’t, I’d still recommend it. From the storytelling to the performance to the technical craft, Scatter is a force to be reckoned with – and sometimes it’s fun to be scared.

Never has a new show set me on the edge of my seat so fast. Vagabond Skies: The Van Gogh Musical is an instant classic. It is not one to miss.The musical follows Vincent van Gogh through his struggles with money, his art, and mental health, all while being supported by his brother Theo. Alex Bloomer plays the titular role and gives an amazing performance that left me reeling and wanting nothing more than to see him on stage again. Similarly, his chemistry with Richard Dawes, who played Theo, made me feel for these two brothers. This is especially poignant knowing how van Gogh's life ends.Outside of Bloomer and Dawes, the other characters and ensemble were equally compelling. Several musical numbers gave me chills, and I felt just as much like I knew van Gogh and his life as the performers did. They brought me into their world in a way I was not prepared for.The show had a lot of heart and took the material seriously. Upon walking in, a timeline is presented to the audience to help establish the story being told. Additionally, the program provides an in-depth story breakdown for viewers, as the show itself is a condensed version of the life of van Gogh. This could make for an odd viewing experience—often, I found myself a little confused by the story being told. But then I’d find myself drawn back in because of the performances and music. Despite this, I could not help but be captivated by this abundantly original musical. However, it's worth noting that the condensed nature of the production may present a disconnect from the story being told.This musical made me curious to know more about Vincent van Gogh and his life. As someone going in with very minimal knowledge, I knew after seeing this that I needed to know more. Going in with the understanding that it's condensed will make for an easier viewing experience. This project—while unfortunately abridged for the Edinburgh Festival Fringe—is one that many should see.

Prometheus Bound (Io’s Version) finds itself in a double bind. As it wavers between the half-tragic and half-comic, it doesn’t quite succeed in either, and the pathos of Io’s story is lost somewhere in the middle. Production value is impressive and feminist sentiment spot on, but the great potential of Myths Unbound Productions’ first show burns itself out.This take on Aeschylus’ classic ought to be a breath of fresh air in a tale that sidelines Io (Alyssa McGuire) for Prometheus (Gunnar Bjercke) with his hero complex. Missing,however, is the fear driving these tragic characters. The play’s focus is, understandably, on Io, but as much as Bjercke’s sarcasm is comical in the first half, Prometheus never seems particularly inconvenienced by being bound: perhaps his chains are too slack?One of the more effective moments of physical theatre is the pursuit of Io as she herself is bound and turned into a cow, but McGuire doesn’t quite convey the grotesquerie of her metamorphosis and torture of gadflies. Any pathos in McGuire’s performance is suffocated by quips that cheapen the tragedy of the plot. By her final monologue, however, we see a glimmer of the humble, resigned Io, and when it comes, it is beautiful: “I had dreams of doing things. Then I had dreams of things being done to me.” Its frankness is the script’s saving grace.This is not to say that humour has no place in tragedy. 'Professional daddy’s boy' James Hay brings clever characterisation as Hermes and Hephaestus to heighten the banality of Zeus’ evil, but jokes about Roombas and Google Maps distract from the sexual violence Io faces. The chorus works well as a unit and Sarah Michelle Ault’s comedic timing is superb. It would have been poignant to see them finally empathise with Io’s suffering, but their comical aloofness does not serve the central thrust of the tragedy.The cast show real passion as they pull together to perform well-choreographed movement sequences, rearrange the set, rattle chains, address the audience, while music blares and lights flash around the theatre. Their energy is astonishing but only by the end of the play does it approach the pity and fear we look for in Io’s story. I return the chorus’ question back to the cast: “Why are you just sitting here? This is a tragedy!”

The After-Dinner Joke doesn’t quite land. Caryl Churchill’s made-for-TV script does this stage production no favours, despite some attempts to lampoon the politics of charity and development. Lukewarm caricatures and tiresome repetition leave us hungry for political satire that bites back. Taxi!Dozens of sketches recur in this early work of Churchill’s, exploring the politics of charity and development until they gradually coalesce into a hostage situation. The punchline? All charity is political. Perhaps it hit harder in the 70s, but now you’d find more radicalism in an Instagram infographic. Political calibre aside, the script offers a simple take on the slippery language of development. “The slums” become “the redevelopment area,” and countries are neither “poor” nor “underdeveloped” but “developing.” And let’s hope the poor and needy say “thank you!”.You’d need real verve to liven this script up, but sometimes the cast seem only to be going through the motions. Kaycee Renee Wilson draws the short straw with her roles, but her MAGA paranoia gets the message across with a nasal American ring. Cameron Ledingham’s confident stage presence as a snooty Tory MP is classic parody of the British class system - just listen to the breathy way he pronounces “charity,” darling! Aid-worker Selby (Irena Kumunjer) proves her worth in a diatribe on the politics of coffee, and Michael Brown strikes a comically tender note with his beloved pet snake, but both could do more to convince us of their respective passions: apolitical charity and politically-homeless boa constrictors.That said, Alisdair Halkett brings a refreshing charisma by saying more with his facial expressions than others do with words. His ease on stage – “I mean, they’re like dying, man” – makes for the best humour of the show.Part of the issue is Churchill’s made-for-TV script. Seamless TV transitions become clunky and very rarely do they pay off. Is it worth rearranging the set just for the same characters to rehash old jokes? The I’m a Celeb sketch offers little in the way of political commentary or plot, and the incongruity of Renee Wilson’s thief until her final speech is too little, too late. Perhaps there is a need for some reduction or at least reorganisation of the script. One thing I cannot forgive, however, is a fake custard pie to the face.The inheritors of The After-Dinner Joke’s political satire - Spitting Image, Yes Minister - run on caricatures. No need to hold back! Ditching the naturalism and relishing the absurdity of the characters would give this satire more edge. Come closer to the audience (literally and figuratively) and let us in on the joke.

Where are the knights of yesteryear? A masterclass in barebones storytelling, Debbie Cannon’s one-woman Green Knight has us spellbound.Our room in the Scottish Storytelling Centre is small and – on this day – swelteringly hot. Unphased, Cannon enters as the ceiling becomes bathed in a green light, with nothing but a few unassuming props – a green apple, a golden bowl, a white sheet – to adorn the stage. The story comes from the medieval poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, as Christmas at Camelot takes a head-turning twist (wink, wink!) The brilliance of this tale lies in its teller: the wife whose husband devises a clever game for Gawain.Cannon’s words have a lyrical quality to them that is difficult to fault. Never pretentious, the story is woven with absolute clarity before our eyes. Musings on age, time, and womanhood are spoken with such candid simplicity that they take you completely off-guard. “To whom do I belong?” asks a woman learning to be a widow, a daughter without a father, a mother. And reflections on unwanted male attention, violence witnessed by young eyes and wives neglected by their husbands are handled so tenderly they pierce even more profoundly than we first think.Dramaturg Jen McGregor and director Flavia D’Avila must be commended for clarity of vision, as Cannon uses domestic props to take us from the bedroom to the battlefield with a sprinkling of imagination. Oh, and what a magnificent impression of a dragon!It is an age-old fault in the original poem, but after an empowering speech on the beauty of female ageing – of a woman who can “stall time or coax it into submission” - it felt like a missed opportunity to leave the mysterious, old women vilified and voiceless. What was her story?As Cannon beautifully reminds us, “sumer is icumen in,” but take an hour out of the sun to hear a centuries-old tale told by a master of her craft. It is more than magic: it’s the stuff the Fringe is made on.

Nuance is hard to find at the Fringe. There is, no doubt, a place for wild theatrics, obvious gags and in-yer-face stubbornness. But in a tiny underground room aptly named ‘The Snug’, David Lee Morgan’s Poems on Gender carve out a space within the noise - and tactful thought becomes political lyric.Morgan’s words are challenging – at times, overwhelming. Whispers of change become cries for revolution. We watch Morgan think things through with the scientific method he expounds in the poem Believe Scientists. Are gender and sexuality essences? Can we live without gender, or is that like trying to “speak without an accent”? Has capitalism commodified the womb? Is it hot in here?After a brief timeline of the upcoming poetry sequence, Morgan recites a dozen or so of his verses in succession. Little more than a number and a title bookends each poem. We speak at the end, and he explains the thinking behind this: 1) nobody likes a five-minute preamble for a thirty second poem, and 2) performance time at the Fringe gets expensive.But we’d appreciate his words more if we had a moment to come up for air. Signposting the timeline at three junctions throughout the performance would serve the pacing, but it’s fair to say Morgan doesn’t want to make it easy for us.Performance is understated. A swish of the hand or closing of the eyes inflects his words with the surety of decades-long experience. When he refers to us as “comrades” and gestures towards “the revolution,” we feel the age of Morgan’s poetry. Telling us more about his protests against the Vietnam War and the culture of the 60s and 70s would give this collection a context to better understand Morgan’s language: words tinged with subversive, radical hues.Whether or not you agree with Morgan, his Poems on Gender give us pause, and space, and painstakingly-thorough thought. A challenge, yes, Morgan puts it well: “sexuality is fucking complicated.”

You’d be forgiven for raising an eyebrow at the provocative title Olives and Blowjobs at Space Triplex. Unforgivable, however, would be to miss it. Ollie Maddigan’s 70-minute tour de force of ecstasy, emotion and grief, refracted through a kaleidoscopic teenage mind, is quickly becoming a Fringe highlight - and deservedly so!Taking its cue from the likes of Fleabag, the one-man confessional style is challenging for the best of performers. The play revolves around a 15-year-old coming to terms with his mother’s death, his father’s neglect and struggles with unemployment, drugs, alcohol, therapy and consent. How to square this, then, with the howling laughter that fills the theatre when Ollie begins to speak and move? Clad in a crumpled school uniform, there is something casual about Ollie’s acting style that puts an audience at ease to discuss even the most intense of subjects. And perhaps most importantly, Ollie appears to truly enjoy himself on stage, so we laugh alongside his teenage overreactions, caricatures of highschool friends and imitations of the unintelligible - but iconic - adolescent grunt.As his cocky defensiveness burns itself out, however, Ollie’s monologue reaches its visceral climax, and it is moving to see male emotion struggle within a cage of stoicism and self-doubt. Ollie is at his best when he holds back his most intense outbursts for just the right moment, resisting the urge to thrash and rage until words can no longer do justice to hisfeelings. PTSD? Our protagonist apologises: “Sorry guys… silly thoughts.”Ollie’s knack for witty yet authentic writing is coupled with excellent staging that serves the story without distracting. Flashes of light book-end the play’s ebbs and flows for a rhythmical, finely-tuned pacing. Footage from Ollie’s family recordings play as he himself sits with us and watches them back, making for a hard-hitting reminder of the play’s basis in reality. Audience clustered around a young man with a very minimal set - a projector, a chair, and a water bottle occasionally doubling as a microphone - Olives and Blowjobs is a reminder of how few frills are needed when a true talent commands the stage. Olives and Blowjobs, is perhaps not helped much by the title, but as a tightly-packed exploration of the paradoxes and pulsations of growing up, it is difficult to overestimate. And the flow of tears from many who witnessed it speaks for itself.

The Edinburgh Fringe may have a porn addiction. A surreptitious browse through this year’s programme returns a fair few porn-themed shows: Irvine Welsh’s Porno, Loveless, Sex-i-ety. And I wanted to love I Birbanti’s contribution, Let’s Try Gay. Trust me, I tried! The play’s description teases us with parallels between the stage and the bedroom, be that performance anxiety or the dream of 'making it'. But the promise of Alessandro Onorato’s award-winning script never truly materialises. We are left with a play that could be both so camp and so clever, but instead fumbles its potential somewhere under the bedsheets.The premise is eye-catching, to say the least. Two art students decide they want to make it big. Their means to fame? Starring in a gay adult movie. But there is one slight issue: Jack and Phil are both, as unconvincing as their performances may be, straight guys. It’s fertile terrain to explore sexuality, male friendship, and what it means to 'perform', but we’re slow to get to this central premise, and when we do, the poor comedic timing means it just doesn’t land.There are some chuckles when the two begin to declaim their seduction in deep, Shakespearean tones. When they decide to watch My Big Fat Greek Gang Bang, accompanied by the comically plodding notes of Greek folk music, we’re primed for a sequence on porn parodies… but it never comes! Porn is exaggerated fantasy, yet these two actors never bring that frenzied energy to the stage. Are they nervous, or do they not know their lines?Lurking behind Onorato’s script is some good stuff. He toys with tantalising riffs on ageing, family rejection, and the desire to go back in time and try 'different roles'. But these flirtations go nowhere, and instead we are offered some timid flexing and a bizarre spanking sequence which, in its lethargy, fails even as slapstick. Not tonight, dear, I have a headache…It’s a shame, because porn’s popularity at the Fringe goes to the heart of performance and theatre. Jack and Phil talk about “getting ready to perform tonight” and speculate about the need for “performance enhancers,” but even as performers themselves, they seem blissfully unaware of the comedic or metatheatrical potential of these lines. In this case, Viagra won’t help. More confidence and a clearer focus on performance and sexuality are needed to get this brilliant premise going, but Let’s Try Gay doesn’t quite do the job.

When flyered for Matthew Gouldesbrough’s new play Truth / Reconciliation, I was told I could expect “serious theatre” from the Elegy group. Projected onto the back of the stage as I entered was a similarly bold claim: “THIS IS GOOD THEATRE.” Can you forgive me for being sceptical?It’s cliché to say you left the theatre with goosebumps, but this much is true for Truth / Reconciliation. In a small, blackbox room with cameras and projectors, the sheer intensity of Gouldesbrough’s writing and direction is hard to evade.There is an element of spectacle to his direction, as the actors operate cameras to project back their faces – now distorted – onto the back wall of the stage. It’s more than clever: it is uncanny, even terrifying, to watch two versions of the same face at once move slightly out-of-sync. And with words that speak of quantum physics and theatre itself, this tech never feels tokenistic. Strangely alchemical, it wrings the script for all its worth.As for the actors, I have never seen a greater example of theatre as physical labour. Hannah Morrison (Bea) and Jake Felts (Alex) speak and move with such power and intensity that flashes of humour take you by surprise – “I’m ho-ho-homeless” – while poetry cascades from their mouths. The effect is something like Sarah Kane’s Crave, pushed further with sound and light and intensity. It is easy to look past the occasional incoherent sentence when so much is gained from the energy behind it, but the best moments of the play are the duologues between the two after so much careful dancing around each other.WIth tactful conversations about the theatre industry - casting couches, intimacy coordinators – Truth / Reconciliation is a must-see for anyone at the Fringe. Seriously good theatre.

How to remember the hermit of Hull? Almost Instinct, Almost True may refuse us anabsolute answer, but with moments of lyricism, connection and surprising political relevance, it asks an honest question about Philip Larkin’s controversial legacy.This is not your average Fringe biopic: the story is told in dialogue between Larkin’s girlfriend of sorts - the lecturer Monica Jones (Julia Munrow) – and her younger, working-class student Tommy (Teddy Walker). And what a wonderfully complex relationship this is! It’s refreshing to watch a show that engages so tactfully with the nuances of age, gender, sexuality, class and political leanings in a way that feels authentic and recognisable, and not a tick-box exercise. The scene changes can be slightly clunky, but dialogue flows naturally between Munrow and Walker, exploring labels and identity through the familiar relationship between female English teacher and 'precocious' student.Walker perfectly encapsulates the feeling of class-based inadequacy in academia - or at least the difficulty in pronouncing 'Yeats' – while Munrow strikes a balance betweensnobbery and tragedy as Monica. She is at her best in her quieter, more tender moments, riddled with the insecurity that Larkin exploits. It’s her story, though she may be known as “Mr Philip Larkin’s girlfriend” and clad in his thickset glasses.At times, arguments run on and grow repetitive, and there is the occasional lapse into the obvious with cries of “I hate you” and “I’m just so lonely.” Ippolit ought to relax and trust her audience a bit more, as she does when Munrow reads extracts from Larkin’s letters and poems verbatim, beautifully catching the rhyme of Born Yesterday.It goes without saying that this is a must-see for fans of Larkin, but no-one can ignore the discussions of legacy and history that pervade modern politics. Taking its title from Larkin’s poem An Arundel Tomb, Almost Instinct, Almost True recalls another line: 'Time has transfigured them into untruth'. Walker’s candour in his closing monologue leaves the true Larkin up to us, but one thing is certain: 'poets aren’t the gods we think they are'.

The Fringe is nearing its close, but do you have space for more? Chris Bush’s bittersweet Hungry is serving up a Fringe hit. Proving that everything – from activated charcoal flatbread to cheesy Wotsits – is political, Hungry is almost too much to swallow.Chris Bush’s script tells the story of waitress Bex (Melissa Lowe) and chef Lori (Eleanor Sutton). It’s a simple love story. Girl meets girl over the shiny worktops of a professional kitchen, court each other with pain de campagne and Pot Noodles, but soon enough class divisions are found out and the two are left fighting over dietary snobbery.But it’s more than that. Bush’s writing packs medical racism, queer acceptance, and the ethics of nutrition into 70-minutes. It’s a lot, and their intersection is the lived experience of many, but – and perhaps I’m a picky-eater – I couldn’t help but feel that some of these elements could have been more digested.As metal worktops on wheels roll and crash around the stage, Katie Posner’s production is nothing short of astounding. This is the first show at the Fringe – actually, ever – that I’ve seen food cooked on-stage. Gimmicky? Maybe, but what better way to hammer home the message of Hungry? Food is universal: we all smell and eat it. We all have our skin in the game, all implicated in its ethics and politics.Lowe and Sutton’s delivery is flawless. There are so many great lines; “I thought I was being romantic but I’m just drunk and gay” and “it’s only flavour” were two of my favourites. Sometimes, the repetitious nature of the arguments means they hit a wall with their exasperation. That said, this is their two-hand tour de force, with immense energy and a beautifully tactful exploration of a queer relationship that rings so true to so many. And props to them for pulling off a sex scene on wheely tables.Hungry deserved its standing ovation. It’s the kind of show you want to see over and over again, and with the talent on display, I wouldn’t be surprised if it's picked up post-Fringe. I’m hungry for seconds!

Who is making theatre like YESYESNONO? The Manchester-based company is back with an immersive, story-telling experience. Enter: We Were Promised Honey! A delight to listen to, Sam Ward’s bittersweet words candy a morbid tale of climate disaster, mental health and apocalypse with a strange and unfettered hope.The narrative style is far from traditional with tangents and time-travel that stretch our round theatre to encircle a near-cosmic scale. But the true-story we cannot escape is that of Richard Russell: a man who stole an air-plane at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport in 2018, completed a series of highly technical stunts, and had never taken a flying lesson. As Sam Ward reminds us time and time again, Russell’s story – like ours – doesn’t end how we’d hope, and the performance is all the more poignant for this reminder.With shaved head and all-white attire, Ward cuts a striking figure. Our story-teller resembles a prophet of the future, his cadence and lyrical script almost scripture-like in its depth.You can feel Ward’s gravitational pull as a performer when moments of audience interaction fulfil his ethos of democratic story-telling. This is, as he tells us, “the show that we’re about to do.” He asks us to take a breath, to raise our hands and give our consent to start the story. In these moments, the collective energy is palpable. It speaks to the writing’s central message of universal birth and death, and the sharedness of story-telling.Less successful are the suggestions Ward takes from the audience. At times gratuitous, we’re never convinced that a different suggestion would meaningfully change the experience, and Ward reverts to the role of the more traditional master-storyteller.I could watch We Were Promised Honey! with my eyes closed: it’s simple and breath-taking, but I want more time with its words. Long lists sometimes merge into incoherence and we are overwhelmed by the magnitude of the story. Even so, the atmosphere is exhilarating. Lucky for me, the script is being published this month. But while you’re here, We Were Promised Honey! is well-worth a taste.

The Other Guys are an all-male all-student a cappella ensemble from St Andrews, with a balanced programme of medleys, mashups and straight songs, as well as plenty of dad dancing, dad jokes and awkward chat. The group’s arrangements are slick, fun and mostly well-performed, though some of the faster numbers are heavily choreographed, at the expense of the singing. Audiences are used to the acrobatics and autotuning of Pitch Perfect and Glee, but this rarely works in real life: the simpler, more static songs were much more effective, with some moments of real beauty.Unfortunately the space and production let them down. There’s practically nothing in terms of lighting design, and the Grand Theatre is almost an anechoic chamber, so a few microphones, especially for the beatboxer, could have really boosted the show’s emotional impact.However, in line with the group’s mission statement, the evening was thoroughly entertaining, with plenty of silly, cringey humour: an unashamedly cheesy evening with Scotland’s premier glee club.

As part of Fringe Central’s Young Voices: Fresh Perspective programme, the Scottish Drama Training Network presented Creative Solutions for Creative Careers. Young arts creators were invited to the free hour long event to discuss the difficulties facing them as they enter the industry.Facilitated by the charismatic Briana Pegado, the session presents a panel of varying theatre makers as they provide the room with provocations for what is difficult about the industry. The panel is made up of Nicole McManus, Clara Bloomfield, David Greig and Jack Elvey – respectively a drama student, Theatre Maker and Director, Artistic Director of the Lyceum and drama school graduate. All the speakers were confident, entertaining and bring up some valid and understandable issues. The mixture of speakers provides enables the audience made up by theatre students the chance to relate to someone in their position but also to gain advice from professionals who have more experience within the industry.Creative arts is a very difficult industry to enter into currently due to large financial costs, a lack of experience meaning you cannot gain experience, poor communication with performing in Scotland outwith the central belt and the issue of there being limited work but with a high volume of competition. There is an acknowledgement that of course, it is difficult. However, more could be done on the industry’s side to try and support new talent coming in. The students are encouraged to work hard, and to be entrepreneurial, resilient and courageous. But do themselves suggest many of their own solutions to the difficulties they face.The session then split into discussion groups where each selection of participants were given one of the most common problems for young theatre makers today and had to come to a practical solution by which these barriers could be overcome. As a result of some of the panellists going over time, they weren’t able to fit in a Q&A session as planned and the discussions felt a little bit rushed but it provided the adrenalin for some quick thinking and it was amazing to see how soon the ideas could be flowing. The solutions as devised in this session were then created into a manifesto that is to be developed and distributed following the event, in the hopes that more young creators will benefit from the suggestions and perhaps the industry will embrace these ideas to enable a greater endorsement of young people.An inspiring and enthusiastic session filled with optimistic energy, creativity and collaboration. It was very exciting to see the participants networking, discussing and learning. A great event for young people to share their ideas and make their voices heard. 

CreativeMornings is a breakfast lecture series for the creative community. It exists in over 170 cities across the world, one of which is Edinburgh. Led by CreativeMornings Edinburgh Host Alex Humphry-Baker, the session began with a period of general mingling time, as might expected at a networking event. You are immediately put to creative work as your name tag includes a question relating to the day’s theme. Today it was ‘genius so we were asked to write who or what was our secret genius. After fuelling our minds for the day with a lovely breakfast, we head into one of the Fringe Central lecture theatres to begin the presentations.This was my first ever CreativeMornings event and I am in awe of what a good concept it is. The event gathers together lots of exciting and eager people, providing a great, relaxed atmosphere to network in. It is also free! Breakfast is provided with a selection of teas, coffees and juices as well as traditional Montreal-style bagels, courtesy of the event’s sponsor Brosso Bagels. They are beyond delicious!The guest speaker was Edinburgh Food Studio founder Sashana Souza Zanella who admitted to us that she found being asked to speak on the topic of genius a little daunting. But she was confident, well spoken and truly inspiring. She discussed how she finds it difficult to consider individual genius, but prefers to think of a process of action that is brought around by collaboration. By definition, genius shares the same etymology as creativity. She tells us about her company and the risks they took to set up the crowdfunded restaurant and food research hub on Dalkeith Road. They run several events a week in which the general concept is to provide a fine dining experience at a reasonable price. Sashana discusses ‘Genius’ as being achieved through intuition, community, innovation and persistence. exploration and learning and knowing when to have fun and when to focus. She was very inspirational and herself created a buzz of ideas.These events occur monthly, with different topics and local speakers, so if you were interested to get involved next time, you can find all of the information on the CreativeMornings website. If you are a creative person who also wants to meet likeminded individuals, and you’re not too opposed to an early start, then CreativeMornings is perfect for you!

George Orwell’s magnum opus novel 1984 is eerily relevant today despite being published in 1949 and shows us a world of constant war, omnipresent surveillance and propaganda conditioning. The King’s School plainly present a retelling of the novel that somewhat lacks imagination and vigour.The piece has been abridged in such a way that the whole piece seems to be in staccato, we can hardly get into the scene before it’s the blackout and a sound effect of the door closing. The production lacks flow with these awkwardly choppy transitions, making it difficult to follow the story and to connect to our characters. We only begin to feel for the protagonist when we get to what must be the longest of the many rapid scenes. As the show continues, it becomes somewhat frustrating to see the lights go down and know that we’re jumping on once again.Despite a few little line fumbles, the cast is focused, capable and do deliver the performance as permitted but what fails to capture the audience is probably a result of the rather banal direction from Rebecca Hatten. The whole show felt rather lifeless and mixed with the ridiculous heat of the room, it felt as if the whole audience were itching for the show to end. It takes our leading man Winston (Edward Ramsey) almost half of the play to warm up but once he does, his performance was emotional and passionate, and slightly disturbing during the torturous scenes – a much needed reprieve from the monotony of the long set up premise. His burst of energy is a thankfully received and juxtaposed against the calm, composed and confident evil of O’Brien (Barney Rule).It’s difficult to know what else to comment on as there was not anything which was an outrageously bad move, but there were no risks taken and therefore it was a bit of a non-event with not very much to comment on. The King’s School’s 1984 lacked the innovation and vitality to lift the words of Orwell’s frightening and suspense-filled novel off the page and, for the most part, was generally mundane. We are told the story of the dystopian tyrannical society but without any verve to engage an audience. The eager cast endeavour but are let down by a lack of captivating direction. If you are a fan of the novel, you will enjoy the simple storytelling but there’s not much else to catch your attention. 

Bunker Girls shows us two women who worked as secretaries documenting the German perspective on WWII. We see them go from proud nationalists full of hope to breaking down as they witness their country ultimately losing the war.The set design of the piece was very simplistic but this reflected the barrenness of the bunker in which the girls were sent to work. The play features a splintered chronology, jumping back and forth in the timeline to present a contrast between the hopeful optimism at the start of the war and the decline of faith near the end. We could have used a greater distinction between these time jumps as it could sometimes be quite difficult to follow.Amy Walpole played the prudish and dedicated Gretel and delivered an appropriately quiet, unassuming character but it was Ilse, as played by Ruth Louis, who was the much more interesting character. Louis presented Ilse’s journey from the casual, young gossip revelling in the joy of national pride to the impassioned Nazi who desperately wanted to cling on to German pride as the inevitable end became clear and Hitler’s closest officers began to resign. Ilse shows us how the German propaganda brainwashed its citizens and she increasingly becomes obsessed with Hitler, not only as a leader but romantically too. She is so staunchly protective of the German patriotism that it breaks down her relationships, morality and mental health – all effectively portrayed by Louis.It is an interesting thing to consider what with the perspective on WWII often seeming one-sided with the view that all Nazis were evil. In fact, many were clueless and manipulated parties who only realised the morality of their actions when they were in too deep. This would have been the case for many Germans, manipulated in the beginning with propaganda promising victory and national pride to attract support, then being left with no option but to continue presenting themselves as Nazis or be killed. Bunker Girls is an intimate and evocative performance from the small, but talented, cast.

The Bathtub Heroine presents an incredibly biting piece of new writing telling the life story of tormented poet, Sylvia Plath. The audience is led on a journey through five chapters of Plath’s writing as known through her poetry and her semi-autobiographical novel The Bell Jar. Despite the harrowing life led by Plath facing depression along with a poor relationship with her father and then an unfaithful husband, Alice Sylvester’s energy keeps the one woman show sinuous and engaging.Sylvester’s Plath is an authentic and artistic performance. She is unapologetic and effervescent as she brings us along the poetic script. Sylvester fully embodies the character in Plath and you literally cannot take your eyes off her. With her vitality, you see Plath go through the key moments in her life and we can clearly understand the distinctions when Plath is conversing with another character, she impressively alternates between two characters and accents rapidly at times. Obviously very familiar with the script, Sylvester indulges in every single word in a display of confidence and comfort on the stage. Her self-direction is nimble and sharp, matching the pace and vigour of her writing.Sylvia Plath, Your Words Are Just Dust is an incredibly well written love letter to the poet. Quotations of the poetry and the monologue written by Sylvester blends so seamlessly that it is hard to tell these apart, even to a Plath aficionado. The script is written in poetic verse so the whole show reads with a rhythm that keeps the pace informative and can at times almost feel lyrical. Furthermore, the language used, like Plath’s writing, is not plain on the surface but in fact encourages the audience to think deeper to understand the imagery and metaphor.Alice Sylvester is intense and gripping as Sylvia Plath, leading us through her traumatic yet fascinating life story. This unrestrained performance is a powerful consideration of a fractured human being worn down by several misfortunes. Its poetic authenticity creates a fiercely intense piece of new writing. 

As one of the most famous American authors of all time, many people will know of F. Scott Fitzgerald and yet the woman behind the man, his wife Zelda, has been overlooked for the most part. Beautiful Little Fool tells us the story of what happened to her because of their declining marriage. Typically, Zelda is regarded as the first American flapper, a symbol of the 20’s, a party girl and a wife - but is not really considered in any more depth than that.We see strong actresses playing weak female characters, for the most part. The exception to this is Zelda (Gabriella Sills) who attempts defiance against her male oppressors. This distinctly contrasts with her growing submissiveness in the hospital scenes. Sills’ performance is courageous, confident and enthralling. Her effective performance presents the journey that Zelda went on towards her breakdown as she was continually dissected by the men in her life who felt threatened by her tenacity. This play also considers the effect of other people’s treatment on one’s mental health. Gweneth Stabler’s performance as Grace was authentic and affecting as she too finds some strength from Zelda to confront her husband.Gabriella Sills’ writing is animated, captivating and stimulating. It comments on the era’s treatment of women and the misogynistic views that existed, expecting women to be doting, docile and dutiful wives with no purpose other than to support their husbands and bear children. The fragmented narrative of the piece jumps back and forth in the chronology, presenting a comparison between the early days of the Fitzgerald marriage when things were jolly, full of colour and warmth, and the cold, plain and lonely life Zelda led once admitted to a psychiatric hospital. The contrast is highlighted by the lighting, props and costume and it is noted that F. Scott Fitzgerald is never present whilst she is in hospital, showing his abandonment. However, the two things that remain on either side of Zelda’s breakdown are alcohol and her paintings, a symbol of her saboteur and her saviour. My only issue with the writing is the rather irresolute ending, I was left wanting more from the final scene as the issue of Zelda’s mental health and marriage was left open ended.It was very interesting to learn how creative Zelda Fitzgerald was and how much she had created that her husband took the credit for. Perhaps if she had been encouraged instead of scolded for her forward-thinking ambition, we could have had another literary great’s work to enjoy. Close Up Theatre present an entertaining and evocative insight into the Roaring Twenties. Commenting on the antiquated sexism of those times, it makes me glad that we have moved far past that attitude towards equality and feminism. 

The story of Peter Pan is a familiar one for many and The Talentz present a lovely retelling of the classic tale. The youth theatre group’s show is a well-oiled and rehearsed performance that is beyond their years. They are accompanied by a capable and adept band, led by Jack Bennett, who guides us through the musical seamlessly.The setting is simplistic with attempts to use projection on a cyclorama to display each scene’s setting, but this detail is unfortunately lost due to brightness issues. However, we are encouraged to use our imagination. Props are cleverly presented with creative direction by Debbie King, using fabric to give us a sense of place. The flying scene had an especially effective use of shadow work to display the London skyline as the children flew over, guided by Peter Pan.At times, the chorus lack some conviction in their voices in the ensemble numbers, which is not due to a lack of talent but perhaps an unfortunate lack of confidence. This sometimes results in a slight drop in the energy of the piece but is quickly recaptured. There were also a few issues with projection as it was not always possible to hear their voices above the band. However, when the chorus were all together, there was determined and smooth harmony created onstage. The cast proved their professionalism as they endured the interruption of a crying baby in the audience without so much as a flinch.There were strong performances and vocals from Peter (Nathan Whale) and Wendy (Bryony Sheeres) but it was the charismatic Joey Zerpa-Falcon as Captain Hook and Mr Darling who stole the show with a stage presence that is a league above his peers and a classic voice full of a bravado that makes him seem appropriately much older as the character of Hook. Zerpa-Falcon presents the two characters with an amusing but rather over-dramatic flamboyance as they lament their respective woes.What better way to start your family day out at the Fringe, than a trip to Neverland? I do believe in fairies, I do! I do!

Ethereal Theatre Company’s Little Shop of Horrors is a powerhouse of zany energy. By nature, the show is a nonsensical and melodramatic tale of a man who creates a mutant plant with a taste for blood. The band is well-coordinated by musical director Flynn Sturgeon and with the show being set in the 1960’s it presents upbeat music that makes you want to snap your fingers and doo-wap along.The 12-strong cast dazzle with insatiable enthusiasm. Dana Hudson’s tight choreography adds to the lively musical numbers and with vocally strong soloists across the leading roles, in particular, Natasha Kayser as Audrey, Lucy Helen Carruthers as Ronnette and Josh Berrington as The Dentist, it is clear that the cast is well trained. At times, it felt like the ensemble numbers were a bit of a competition to see who could sing the loudest, although this may be a result of adrenalin from the excitement of the high paced songs.Leading man Seymour (Marcus Jones) is endearingly innocent and bumbling; easily gaining the support of his audience. Sometimes it was evident his lower register struggled to compete with the louder ensemble and some clarity was lost, This was either due to a strange choice not to turn on his microphone at this time or to shoot a technical difficulty that couldn't be helped.The star of the show was the epicurean monster Audrey II, played by Anna Tammela, whose sensuous persuasion for Seymour to feed her was impressive. The monster was made up of Tammela and her branches who lithely wrap around one another and writhe around the stage in a mirage of personification – a credit to Mahmoud Zayat’s creative direction. The Audrey II costumes were particularly effective and well produced. Tammela’s strong voice sumptuously lent itself to the jazzy tones of the song Feed Me (Git It), a real highlight number in the show.Little Shop of Horrors is a colourful and zealous show with a relentless vitality that guarantees a whole lot of fun.

You are guaranteed to be off to a great start when you step into the gorgeous Merchant’s Hall with a G&T in hand. Seated in banquet style seating, you quickly make acquaintances with those at your table and the atmosphere is light but relaxed.As our confident and articulate host, Adam Hunter, notes it is indeed the biggest gin tasting you’ve probably ever been to. The large room is filled with gin appreciators alike ready to learn more about the spirit – or possibly just in it for the free sample. But either way, there’s no judgement here – to each their own!Hunter sets us off with a presentation about the Arbikie Gin company and informs us of their unique position of being able to make gin with 100% Scottish ingredients, all produced on the Arbikie farm up in Arbroath. A great thing to hear, as who doesn’t love local produce? We then move on to a series of videos about the company and their distilling process however, this was projected onto a very small screen considering the size of the room and the amount of people having to crane their necks to see what is being said. Furthermore, the videos seemed to go on for quite a while so it seemed to dampen the atmosphere in the room a little. Perhaps the different sections could have been spaced out to break up the videos and verbal presentations. Much time was spent discussing Arbikie’s vodka and whiskey products as well, which I’m sure is great but it did not seem very relevant at the event specifically targeted at gin drinkers.The tasting provided the opportunity to taste three of Arbikie’s gin varieties, along with the complimentary gin and tonic upon arrival – one of which, the AK’S gin tasted surprisingly delicious with ginger ale because of its sweet honey flavour. I didn’t expect to like that combination but I actually think it’s something I would try again. Hunter guided us well through the different steps of the spirit tasting, explaining what sort of things we should be able to identify by smell and taste and I felt this section was well produced and presented.However, following this tasting which was only about half way through the one hour event, the audience was informed that the presentation had concluded and we were free to stay and finish our drinks whilst some members of the company came around to answer any questions we may have. This felt like a bit of a cop out considering the fact that you’re paying for a full hour of masterclass. Overall, it seems that it wasn’t much of a masterclass, I didn’t emerge with any new information about gin or feel like I had been particularly engaged by the event. The crowd seemed to enjoy themselves, an easy task when you’re on the gin, but that seemed to be the extent of the event’s fall out. 

Step into the grand Lafayette big top in Underbelly’s dedicated Circus Hub and witness the spectacle of internationally acclaimed Circa with their 2017 Fringe offering. Ten acrobats perform an hour of incredible feats with precision, strength and personality. Circa claim to be showing us Humans, but what they really show us, is that they are superhuman.This is no ring-master and clown circus but in fact a resolute display of serious gymnastic and acrobatic skill. However, it’s not all serious business, Circa’s performers show us they are no strangers to comedy and have the audience giggling with an absurd section dedicated to their life aspiration of being able to lick their own elbows. An incredibly impressive scene sees one of the contortionists acting as limp as a ragdoll whilst being manipulated by her partner into incredible positions. Making control look so effortless is another display of their beyond human skillset.The Circa company seem to be completely fearless as they jump, drop, throw and catch one another in every direction imaginable – showing us the implicit trust they have in one another to be precise and timely. People are thrown across the stage or from three humans high and land perfectly safe every time. Even when they seem to move in the last direction you expect, they are constantly creating gorgeous shapes and lines with their bodies. The acrobats move with fluidity, rippling their sculpted musculature, a testament to their determined strength. It shows us how the human body moves, each element connected to one another as we progress through life.Circa’s incredible talent and reputation mean that this is one of the Festival’s hot tickets – be sure to book now before it sells out! Where else will you see one man casually carrying five people on his shoulders? Join the packed audiences to gasp at the jaw dropping dynamism of Circa: Humans. 

Static Assembly attempt to give us an insight into the lives and rivalry of Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla but really just leaves the audience confused. While they claim they are presenting an ‘experimental’ and ‘divine’ insight to this true story, the term ‘unique’ to mean an attempt to be bizarre in every sense.One of the only redeeming qualities of Edison is the talented cast, made up of an ensemble of twelve performers, whose skills are very apparent although perhaps not effectively applied with this show. Throughout, the production is supplemented by the ensembles voices and percussion, adding pace to the piece. Their voices are individually strong but with beautifully blended harmonies. The other redeeming quality is Hannah Sandler’s choreography of the very physical piece. There were some gorgeous dance sequences but unfortunately this didn’t add any sense to the piece.Joshua Logan Walker’s script is incredibly difficult to follow with vague narratives that make it hard to even know who the characters are, never mind what is supposed to be happening. The show dances between storylines and, honestly, I’m not sure if I even understood whether the timeline was linear or if it was a flashback. In this version of history, Edison is made out to be a dystopian society dictator, censoring those who speak out against him. There is mention of him ‘always watching’, presumably characterised by the bizarre pigeon-headed woman who is later revealed to be his wife. Yeah, I don’t know either. The actual character of Edison, however, is rarely seen other than in a baffling clown-ish slapstick scene where he rolls around on the ground with a mound of gold streamers. At other points in the show there are scenes like this that seem completely out of context and separate what small moments of storytelling there is.Overall, I don’t feel like anything can be learned about two of science’s great inventors from this production. Unfortunately, a talented cast are let down by a ludicrous and perplexing show. When leaving the venue I even overheard a ‘what on earth was supposed to be happening?’ I wish I knew. 

If you’re also the kind of person who thinks that you can’t go wrong when starting with a G&T then this is the event for you. Edinburgh Gin has quickly become a hallmark company in this city and it is fantastic to see them getting involved in the Fringe.Step into an immersive 4D cocoon of gin goodness in the cosy surroundings of 99 Hanover Street bar, you are taken into a space that is completely dedicated to your gin learning experience. With spectacular projection mapping technology that covers the room in every direction you look, The Art and Science of Gin is a fully immersive and visual experience. Edinburgh Gin have really gone above and beyond with their immaculate attention to detail providing beautifully designed projections. There is even the extra touch of filling the room with specific scents to take you on a full sensory experience.You will also, of course, get the opportunity to taste some of the delicious Edinburgh gins both neat and with different mixers and garnishes. The session includes a presentation about the history of Edinburgh and how that sense of place enriches the foundations of what Edinburgh Gin creates as they strive towards innovation. Their desire to stay true to their home nation, as much as possible, is backed up by being able to taste the flavours they have locally sourced from Scottish suppliers. There is also a section of the distillery process of creating their gin, particularly as they try to innovate with new and exciting flavours.The most interesting section is when you are taken on a journey around the world, discovering where it is that they source the ingredients needed to produce gin – some certainly you wouldn’t have guessed are necessary to making the spirit we know and love. As you are guided around the world, you are invited smell and taste the botanical ingredients as they are being explained which adds a lovely hands-on element to the experience.All the way through this experience, you are guided by the wonderfully charismatic and very obviously knowledgeable Tony McGeever from Edinburgh Gin who brought all the elements together is an engaging and keeps the atmosphere light, fun and enjoyable from start to finish. What differentiates The Art and Science of Gin from your regular spirit tasting is that you are transported into an environment that removes all distractions and allows you to really experience the moment. And there’s gin, lots of gin. 

Walking into the Krua Thai Cookery School is like being welcomed into a friend’s home. You are immediately set at ease and ready to begin the human tradition of exchanging stories, food and cultures. In the safe hands of Chef Rujira Herd – a Thai Cuisine specialist who regularly caters to the likes of Hilton International and world famous chef Albert Roux. Chef Ru is a kind and gracious host instantly making you feel welcome as she tells you stories from her travels.The workshop was composed of Chef Ru, her assistant and six of us students, eager to learn, but perhaps more eager for the lunch included in the event. Sidenote: the meal comes towards the end of the two-hour workshop, so don’t arrive starving or the cooking aromas will drive you crazy. We begin with considering the element of presentation and its importance in Thai cuisine, Chef Ru shows us some of her food carving finesse with a gorgeous floral-designed watermelon and fantastic little flowers made from radishes. Then it’s time to get the aprons on. Most of the workshop is done by demonstration but there are also plenty of opportunities for tasting and a few opportunities to get your hands dirty. The kitchen demonstration section – although a little unstructured as we jump between different elements for the three courses – is informative and piques your appetite, as everything smells delicious.This year’s workshop includes a starter of Geiw Grob (pork wontons with a homemade tamarind sauce), a main course of Tom Ka Gai (Galangal soup with chicken and coconut cream served with basmati rice) and a simple but delicious dessert of Tang Thai (chilled melon with a pandan sugar syrup and coconut cream). All the recipes are to take away with you, to try making at home. The main element of activity is folding your own crispy wontons. Something that Chef Ru’s deft hands look easy doing, but mine were a little informal, to say the least. Once they are fried, you are given the task of presenting your wontons on a dish and I have to say I’m pretty proud of how restaurant-worthy my dish looked. The highlight of the meal has to be that gorgeous Galangal soup which was so smooth and delicious. Definitely one to try for myself when I get home.So, although you don’t get to participate much, it may be for the best as it means you’re guaranteed to get a high quality three-course lunch alongside lots of Thai cuisine knowledge you can use to impress your friends. Chef Ru is so sweet and charismatic and really drove the fun into the whole enjoyable experience.

American Performing Arts International return to Edinburgh with their musical theatre revue American Broadway Hits. A well-structured and smoothly run show that provides a large scope of songs from Guys and Dolls to Little Shop of Horrors, Newsies to Singin’ In the Rain – a variety that any musical theatre fan would be satisfied with – as well as throwing in some less familiar numbers from shows such as Forever Plaid and A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder.The twenty one strong company is made up of a junior ensemble group and a senior group of soloists, all coming together for the opening and closing numbers. It is obvious how well rehearsed the group is by the seamlessly blended harmonies in the group numbers although at times the soloists’ projection would be lost amongst the ensemble and backing track. The well-oiled ensemble also features many strong individual voices which culminates in a delightful and entertaining production.Highlights come from Chase Ramsey’s powerful Maria (West Side Story) which highlighted Ramsey’s control between his strong belting and the softer moments. Cam Cahoon’s This Is the Moment (Jekyll and Hyde) was another strong point, his smooth tone leading us to an emotional crescendo as the song builds. Throughout the performance Brittni Smith’s spritely soprano elevates each number with energy.Energy is a key word for this show, as the performers’ joy is almost tangible – the audience seems to absorb this energy and the fun is reflected in both performer and audience. There are many humorous numbers in the repertoire, often scheduled to lighten the mood after a more sombre number, which makes for a great journey. Look out for Shawn Mortensen’s hilarious I Am Adolpho (The Drowsy Chaperone) in which Mortensen fully embodies the vigorously confident Latin lothario Adolpho with so much zest, the audience couldn’t help getting involved and singing to his command.A really enjoyable production and a great way to start off a Fringe day – if you like showtunes, you’ll like this. 

Gazing at a Distant Star follows three lives individually dealing with their own losses. First we are introduced to the boisterous but relatable everyman, Arun, working in a call centre to raise enough money for university. We also meet Anna who is training for a 5k run, and Karen who is trying to continue with her life after her son flies the nest. This cast of three deliver impassioned storytelling that guides us through their individual stories of loss as well as working in ensemble to provide diverse secondary characters.Arun (Harpal Hayer) acts as the glue carrying us through the show and is the link between the three stories. Hayer is a deftly diverse actor showing us distinct variations from stroppy schoolkid to awkward teenager to aggressive and possessive boyfriend. He is very relatable and unassuming as Arun, and gets the audience on side. Ketorah Williams is energetic and engaging as Anna, and Jenny Delisle also delivers an incredible authentic performance as caring but clueless mother Karen, her soliloquy about lacking closure is spine-tingling.The set design was decidedly simplistic, each set item and prop completely white, showing the blank canvas of these stories and allowing us to focus on the stories we are being told by the three protagonists. This staging enables a versatility of setting as the audience is encouraged to use their imagination. Each change in location is highlighted by the dialogue but also by the clearly limited lighting rig. Often the lighting does not quite hit the mark in highlighting the area of focus or indeed, actually show us the actors with much clarity but this may be a result of being limited by a small, shared lighting rig.The overall message gathered from Gazing at a Distant Star is that there is a lack of awareness – the three characters experience loss because of issues; alcoholism, emotional abuse and racism – all things that they were unaware to be affecting their loved ones. This fact rubs salt in the wound of their grief. Gazing at a Distant Star is an emotional observation on the issue of grief.

For the 16th year, twice a week during the festival, Frankenstein’s pub is taken over by Frank N Furter and the gang for Rocky Horror Night! It’s a raucous fun-filled evening of Rocky Horror-themed debauchery in a venue where Halloween is all year round and the dramatic presentation of Frankenstein’s Monster is somewhat akin to the creation of Rocky.The first thing you note is that Rocky Horror Night is certainly not a production of The Rocky Horror Show, so don’t come along expecting to sit down and see a stage show. Similarly, it is not just a screening of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, although clips of it run on screen throughout the night to keep those images in mind.It is a Rocky Horror-themed pub night, which our Frank N Furter describes as a cross between Coyote Ugly and The Rocky Horror Show. The performers jump up on the bar and sing all the best numbers, from Dammit Janet to Touch-A Touch-A Touch-A Touch Me. You are encouraged to come along in your best Rocky fancy dress, but if not, you can make up for it by dancing and singing your heart out, especially with The Time Warp. With a few numbers at a time, the performances partition an evening of quality DJing that plays songs that you can’t resist getting up and dancing to – with music from the last few decades to the present day.Unfortunately, as it was a Monday night, the pub was quite quiet and some performers seemed to be a little affected by this but the small crowd grew as the night went on. With entertaining performances from Thomas McFarlane and Leylah Watban as Brad and Janet, we see cabaret, burlesque and there is even the chance for some audience participation.If that doesn’t have you shivering with antici…pation, then prepare yourself for the real star of the show: Steven Crawford as the audacious hedonist Frank N Furter, whose pipes could blow the house down. Crawford’s unapologetic brazenness when mocking a few audience members is hilarious. it’s no wonder that he is the force behind this event’s resilience in the festival for over a decade and a half.If you’re a fan of the movie musical then you will absolutely love this night spent celebrating its standing as the cult classic it is. Oh, and did I mention, it’s free! Lose your inhibitions and whack out your fishnets and corset because the Rocky Horror Night is a whole load of debauchery, entertainment and fun. Let’s do The Time Warp again!

Siren Theatre Co’s Good With Maps is a multi-faceted story masterfully guided by Jane Phegan who takes us through this one woman show. We are gradually brought to understand the link of the Amazon, literature and Parkinson’s disease as the three topics of storytelling intertwine. From the beginning, we are instantly brought into Janaczewska’s world with rainforest noises making us feel like we have travelled to the Amazon, and the heat of the room certainly back that up too, a convenient bonus for the play’s position.Jane Phegan is an instantly captivating performer – her rich, warm and confident voice makes you feel at ease, it’s as if you’re listening to a friend, or perhaps your favourite English teacher, considering how educational the show is. Phegan delivers her passionate performance with a fervour and I heard so many facts about the Amazon, I feel like I could quote an encyclopaedia.Noëlle Janaczewska’s writing creates a bright, rapid and witty character that is relatable, genuine and provokes empathy. We see parallels drawn between Phegan’s adventurous exploration and the issue of mortality. Good With Maps considers knowledge and its power to change our lives. There is a comparison between the explorers going into unchartered territory and those that are dying as both are on a journey to the unknown. Janaczewska’s writing is truly a love letter to literature, celebrating its ability to connect people, to hold a mirror up to the realities of life, or to be used as a form of escapism. Often we see Phegan’s character distracting herself from life’s hardships by thinking about a story that allows her mind to focus on something else.We also gain empathy for Phegan through her love of literature, which connected her to her father. He is the one who fostered her insatiable curiosity and created a desire for escapism that then shaped her future as an explorer. An endearing relationship that many in the audience could relate to. An extremely interesting piece of new writing focusing on universal themes – it is informative for children and genuinely relatable for adults. Good With Maps is a fast paced and engaging one woman show.

The dance world can sometimes take itself a little too seriously, it often seems to be too caught up in technical comparisons to just enjoy itself, however, Chicos Mambo is the opposite of that notion. Choreographer Phillip Lafeuille’s charm is in turning dance into comedy – a form we rarely see in dance shows beyond a small feature. Lafueille’s choreography is a real treat to audiences and he has thrown in some gems for the dance savvy – there is a reference to Matthew Bourne’s all-male Swan Lake and a nod to Pina Bausch’s Seasons March.TUTU celebrates the world of dance by poking light fun at the common tropes of many different dance styles. You have the dramatic contemporary dancers dressed head to toe in loose fitting grey clothes falling all over one another. There’s a nod to reality television dance competitions where the partners care more about outshining one another to get the most screen time. One of the show’s highlights is a purposely faulty pas de deux where the partnership squabble on stage – hilarious, trust me. In mocking the (all too accurate) elements of these dance styles, it really is celebrating Dance in All its Glory.TUTU is a show that handles expectations. Or more accurately, makes a point of mocking those expectations. Like what you expect to see from the dance styles mentioned above. To a section that highlights what non-dancers expect of a dancer – cue memories of “oh, you’re a dancer, can you do the splits right now?”. But most importantly, the performance covers the topic of gender expectations. The all-male cast perform a concoction of pieces that show both masculine and feminine conceptions. The way that the dancers handle themselves with both immense strength but also grace and poise will have you questioning if there really is such a thing as dancing ‘like a girl’ or ‘like a boy’ – why shouldn’t a man perform a stunningly graceful pointe solo? Chicos Mambo masterfully toes the line between masculine and feminine with symbols often considered to represent the delicate graceful nature of ballet, the dancers show us tutus and pointe shoes with strength and power.What is most divine is the clear collaboration between Corinne Petitpierre’s costumes and Lafeuille’s choreography – both have informed one another to make a beautifully textured piece further highlighting the motion. The costumes move alongside the performers’ bodies extending their gorgeous lines and making some captivating visuals. Dominique Mabileau’s lighting design also adds to this delectable vision, particularly effective at picking out specific body parts to draw the audience’s focus. The simple but exquisitely appealing production design enhances but does not distract from the immense talent of the dancers.The performance is, of course, driven by the dancers with such zeal and charisma that leads you through the different scenes engaging you in their eccentricity. Certainly, these performers are not just fascinating actors but display an astounding quality of technique. They have strength, grace, energy, charisma, precision and faultless comic timing that makes the show incredibly enjoyable. TUTU is a brilliantly universal show – it is wacky, colourful and educational for children whilst still being hugely entertaining and hilarious for adults. Chicos Mambo were well deserving of the standing ovation they received from a very happy audience – a surprising gem of the Fringe. 

Bletherbox provide an alternative insight into the lives of the men who worked and died on the Piper Alpha oil rig. Tom Cooper’s writing is remarkably realistic and will feel eerily familiar to those in the audience who know people who work offshore. However, this play is not just for those who feel directly connected to the oil and gas industry in the North East but is, in fact, an important message for our whole generation to consider, as we are all undoubtedly affected by the age of oil.Thankfully, this company do not present this tragedy head on, which may have been too jarring and explicit for a Scottish audience (even almost 30 years after the disaster), but instead chose to tell us the story through the lens of an artist who had visited the rig and created images of its structure and its people just a year before the disaster.This confident and well-oiled ensemble cast of three fully engage the audience, breaking the fourth wall regularly in their energetic storytelling, including you as an audience member. The performance fills the small space and makes it an incredibly intimate experience as you connect with the characters. We are introduced to new father Jim (Ross McKinnon) who gains our respect and advocacy by working to support his family despite the difficulties of life on the rig and to Robbie (Brian James O’Sullivan) the jovial young man struggling to find a purpose and a career, who finds the money of the industry attractive. Their camaraderie provides comedy and a lightness to the piece and shows the positives of the job whilst the rest of the play highlights so many of the negatives; the threat of redundancy as job insecurity comes along with the fluctuating oil prices, the isolation of life on the rig, and the pressure to place productivity over the safety and satisfaction of the workers. You are left to wonder why these men persevere but Jim tells us “I don’t have to like it – I just do my job”. The show transitions seamlessly from scene to scene with live music and traditional Scottish song, which adds a strong pace and supports the mood of each scene. Creative direction from Cooper transports us to various locations with little set, igniting our imagination from helicopter to office to rig. The actors deftly transform into different characters as we follow the journey of the Artist to meet and capture these men of the Piper Alpha rig. The Artist’s (Charlaye Blair) curiosity at the mystery of what happens on the rigs that drive our country’s industry is identifiable and prompts us to want to know more. She asks us to consider what the metal life on the rig does to these men. The men respond to her as she seems to be the only one who is interested in them as people rather than just being seen as another part of the machinery.In a world where efficiency trumps spending, corners are being cut and safety can be put at risk, when really the welfare of the workers should be paramount. The people who do the work that drives our economy should be considered and respected for their hard work. Part of the Picture asks us to remember these men. It is a genuine, impassioned and poignant consideration of a key part of Scotland’s recent history and its present flagship trade. 

Edinburgh is the greatest place a Harry Potter fan can visit if they’re looking to immerse themselves in an environment that feels authentically wizarding. With Edinburgh’s magical history and the intrigue of the Old Town’s wynds and closes, it’s not hard to see where J.K. Rowling found her inspiration when creating the magical world we all know and love.Wand in hand, The Potter Trail takes you around some of J.K. Rowling’s favourite writing spots, and includes many of the places that inspired favourite characters such as the terrible poet that influenced Professor McGonagall’s namesake, and those characters that we love to hate – I’m looking at you, Voldemort. Just remember to come prepared with an umbrella for the likely case the weather won’t be on your side. If you do get a sunny day then it truly is a magical time for you.The tour begins in the Greyfriars Kirkyard and finishes on Victoria Street, leaving you with the perfect follow-up activity — a shopping spree on the real life Diagon Alley. The tour guide will provide you with a wand, which by colour sorts you into your Hogwarts House (although Hufflepuffs are forgotten… as usual). You are taught to use a spell which will turn the traffic lights green as you navigate around the city — a real test of your magical skill. But fear not, there are more ways to show your Potter prowess as the tour guide offers opportunities to win points for your house by answering trivia. The interactive tour also provides the chance for some lucky volunteers to use the sorting hat outside George Heriot’s School — where the idea for the Hogwarts Houses came from.Tour guide, Richard Duffy, was humorous, engaging and energetic and incredibly patient with the young Potterheads with their many interjections and questions. An amusing contemplation I overheard from a wee Ravenclaw was, “I think I’d rather have parents than be a parseltongue” — I’m sure her parents will be glad to hear that one. They kept him on his toes but he always had the knowledge to back it up. An interesting tour for muggles and wizards alike. Full of facts, fun and you’re sure to learn something you didn’t know before. Plus, it’s free, so what are you waiting for? Cast your Alohomora spell on the Potter secrets of Edinburgh.

You won’t find any Thai men with impressive singing voices and a surprising make up talent here. The Ladyboys show has a simple setup: three stand-up comedians in a small room each with about 20 minutes to win over the audience.Beginning with Matt Wills, a pint-sized but undeniably dapper MC, who took time to get to know the audience. It felt like we had all joined a new club and were getting to know one another which suited the small venue and audience perfectly. He pushed through the slightly awkward ice to prepare for the next comedian.Janine French took over the microphone and my inner feminist couldn’t help but revel in seeing a young woman doing stand-up. She was charismatic and gave a brief sample of potential characters when she became her grandmother. I did feel like she had a lot more personality to give, but perhaps some of it was softened to suit the audience and venue.Lastly came Ian Miller, a socially awkward (his words) Essex boy, who gave an insight into his dating history and why he certainly isn’t appropriate for a family wedding. He was charming in a hopeless way and probably managed to unleash the maternal instincts of all the women in the room.Each comedian had a relatable aspect, often using sexual blunders, one-liners and anecdotes to make fun of themselves. They all had a lot of potential and they could certainly get laughs, but the audience was far too small and reserved to make it a hilarious show. It is easy to imagine how difficult it must be to play to eight people, all of whom are sat within six feet of you. All their performances at times teetered on the edge of dark humour taking personal stories and turning their own experiences into the punchline.At times some of the jokes seemed a little lost along the way and it was necessary to wait until the end before you could tell whether to laugh or not. That said, there were some aspects that didn’t seem as appropriate for such a small and intimate show such as personal problems where the sadness of the case was the punchline. They would have been more suited to a bigger audience where they can get more response, but in a small room where by the end we all knew each other’s names, it was too heavy.It was fun nevertheless and by the end of the hour you really want them to succeed. 

This unusual combination of clarinet, violin, cello and piano boasts an orchestral palette of tone colours and an extraordinary dynamic range. The players all well seasoned and in this performance they drew us into their sound-worlds with an assured confidence. The programme opened with Hindemith’s ‘Clarinet Quartet Op. 30’, commemorating the 50th anniversary of Paul Hindemith’s death. The work is fantastical and explores very unusual harmonies and colours. Clarinettist Jean Johnson’s playing is stylish and bold, and captivated the audience with her pure tone and gleaming legato. Perfect-sighted pianist Edward Cohen abandoned his hefty piano scores in favour of an iPad, two pages squeezed into a tiny blur of notes on the screen. His playing was sensitive and clear, and allowed the other three plenty of room to shine. The more intimate atmosphere of Hans Gál’s ‘Serenade op. 93’ was a wonderfully charming contrast to the magnitude of the quartet. An Austrian composer, Gál later emigrated to Britain and finally settled in Edinburgh, where he taught at the university, making this work perfectly apt for a Fringe debut. The lighter texture of the work, with equal parts for all three, showed Christian Elliott to be a very fine cellist indeed. His tone is luxuriously warm, and his intonation is so secure and precise that it verges on the scientific. Khachaturian’s ‘Trio for Clarinet, Violin and Piano’ was the final piece to be presented. Thoroughly virtuosic, with influences of central Asian folk music, this, his only piece of chamber music was a rare delight. The exotic atmosphere was fantastical, and thoroughly escapist for this listener. Cohen’s playing was particularly flashy, and his exuberant gestures a joy to watch. Although the variation in instrumentation added interest to this already exciting combination, the programme would perhaps have been more satisfying if more use was made of the full ensemble. It was nonetheless a brilliant recital of some challenging and infrequently performed music.

Arabian Nights can certainly be called an “interesting” production. With five stories within the main storyline – and sub stories within those stories – it can be confusing at times to figure out exactly what plotline you are currently trying to follow. All of the stories trace back to one main plot: the soldier General Schahriar, permanently heartbroken from an event that happened years ago, marries women for a night and executes them in the morning. Sheherezade is one of the women who volunteered to marry the General, and is faced with the challenge of saving herself and her sister from death by telling incredible stories. From “The Merchant and the Genie” to “The Sultan and the Doctor”, every one of the stories is magical and exciting to watch. Bearing in mind that almost the entire cast is made up of children aged 11-14, the standard of acting is outstanding. One standout performer in particular is Ellen Evans as “Sindbad the Sailor”, who seems to have a natural stage presence: she owns the stage with the level of confidence expected from a professional, experienced actor. There are several laugh-out-loud moments during the performance as well as serious parts; the way that the cast make fun of their lack of members by naming one of the stories “Aliya Baba and the Not-Quite Forty Thieves” is both heart-warming and amusing. The whole performance was also a lovely dose of nostalgia for the teenage and adult members of the audience who were brought back to their younger days when they were told the stories by their own parents and saw the DVDs of these stories later on. Particularly with Aladdin, which I personally haven’t read or watched for several years and had forgotten the plot, it was very nice to remember exactly what happened in the story and certainly brought me back to my childhood, or (as much as I despise this phrase) “the good old days”. A spellbinding performance that keeps you on the edge of your seat throughout and raises philosophical questions that are difficult to find an answer to, Arabian Nights is definitely a highlight of IYAF 2013.

I have a confession to make: I did not plan on attending this performance. Originally I had planned to go see another play about people suffering from insomnia. I actually ended up at this small play called ‘Til Death Do Us Apart, written and performed by Swedish theatre company Nya Paraplyteatern (that means New Umbrella Theatre for those of you who don’t speak Swedish). I am not proud of how long it took me to realise I was actually at the wrong performance, but putting that aside, making this mistake was probably the best mistake that I have made this year. Although at the start the acting seems uncomfortable and almost awkward, the actors soon settle into the performance. It is important to take into account the theme of this show: a woman suffering domestic violence at the hands of her new boyfriend – a theme that you could hardly call an actor’s “comfort zone”, and the director (Emma Wellsflät) later said that the performance challenged the actors “both physically and mentally”. Charlotta Lakeshore’s performance is outstanding as Sam, a young woman being abused by her boyfriend Denny. At first the two are inseparable and seem to be very much in love, but soon Sam discovers that Denny is nowhere near the dream boyfriend that she had thought he was. The storyline, whilst mainly focusing on the rollercoaster relationship between Sam and Denny, also follows Sam’s friends, in particular her best friend Ashley and Ashley’s longing for her friend Lucas, who is already in a relationship. Even with the addition of this love triangle, the story is easy to follow and just as heart-wrenchingly intertwined as any popular love story. This piece raises many questions throughout the play that desperately need answering: will Lucas return Ashley’s feelings for him? Will Sam ever leave Denny? Sadly the theatre company does not have any more dates planned for the UK any time soon and their short stint at IYAF is over. However, I still feel privileged that I was able to watch the performance as I was moved almost to tears by this realistic and exciting piece. Those who know me know that it takes one hell of a show to bring me with my heart of icy-cold stone to tears: seriously, I laughed when (spoiler alert) the dog died in Marley and Me. This exceptional performance keeps you on the edge of your seat to the end and will have anyone with similar experiences to anyone in the play reaching for their nearest pack of Kleenex. If you do manage to catch a performance of this show, then trust me, you’ll be needing them.

Reminiscent of a Rihanna concert, the Tiffin Swing Band starts their set late. Granted, it’s only five minutes late, but having seen the Swing Band perform before and impatiently waited for the next incredible show from them, it may as well have been an eternity. The set opens with Sing Sing Sing featuring a solo on clarinet from Claire McAvoy and the incredible drumming skills of Dae Hyun Lee, and instantly the audience is hit with a wall of pure sound. But with that sound comes life, colour and joy that you would expect from a professional band, not a band of upper-school teenagers. Despite the highly professional vibe coming from the band, you are reminded of the fact that they are actually teenagers; the trumpeters in particular seem to be really enjoying themselves throughout the whole of the set. Whereas more ‘experienced’ bands may not be able to get away with the occasional impromptu dance move, it fits in well with the fun atmosphere of the evening. Playing on a backdrop of a church undergoing renovation with signs that read, “hard hats must be worn”, this group is obviously capable of adaptation from the more sophisticated venues that they have played at, such as the Rose Theatre. When they begin to play Strike Up The Band, conductor Simon Ferris reminds the old members of the band who are present of the times when they played with the group, giving a heart warming personal touch. Soon the swing band is joined by singer Nick Wong who opens with Fly Me to the Moon and shows the flexibility of his voice when he sings One for my Baby and One for the Road, a slow piece with just a voice and a piano which leaves you thinking that Wong’s voice could fill a room with or without the assistance of a microphone. The other singer is Annabelle Johnson, whose voice has noticeably matured and improved over time; Johnson has never sounded so good. Her incredible range is shown when she sings Mercy Mercy and she seems hits the high notes effortlessly, giving the whole evening style and class. Eventually, the last ever show from the band’s current line-up comes to a close with four Latin songs, introducing new instruments like the timbale and vibraphone, both played by Ben Porter. The final piece – the modern and well-known Soul Bossa Nova – is an upbeat and delightful end to the evening, featuring solos from Matt Elmore on alto saxophone and Alex “Curly” Hawkings on trombone, and the amusing appearance of a triangle. From the point of view of someone who thrives on heavy metal/punk music, also known as the last person in the entire world you would ever expect to enjoy a jazz performance, it was –and it almost pains me to say this- genuinely difficult not to enjoy yourself. Having seen the Tiffin Swing Band perform before, they were not quite at their best this evening and could have been more rehearsed and in time with each other, but nor were they at their worst – far from it. Even though the Tiffin Swing Band will be introducing new members along with changes in style and sound, the only guarantee is that the Swing Band was, and always will be, phenomenal.

This revival of No Way to Treat a Lady, based on a novel by Oscar-winning writer William Goldman, takes us back to 1960s New York, an era of clunky, fixed-line telephones and frilled collars. A musical with a murderous twist, the show is seen through the eyes of an NYPD officer on the hunt for a serial killer stalking the city in a series of different guises – a sinister Irish priest and pizza delivery man, to name but two. The two characters, hunter and hunted, have a surprising amount in common: both suffer from loneliness and mid-life identity crises, borne of worries over their scant achievements in life. The lead character, Morris Brummell, played by Graham Mackay-Bruce, is not your average homicide detective, however: he lives with his mother (Judith Paris). Meanwhile, fame has eluded Kit Gill, an unemployed actor who can’t get arrested, and will stop at nothing to get his name in the New York Times. The vintage phones were an ever-present fixture on stage, and they never stopped ringing as the pair strike up an unlikely relationship: the suspected killer repeatedly calls the cop and they begin sharing their innermost secrets to one another. Another consistent feature was the high standard of musical performance; the small cast switched between speaking and singing with ease, although none of the songs stayed with me afterwards. Despite the intimacy of the 60-seater auditorium, effective staging techniques such as projected newspaper headlines on the rear wall helped depict a city in fear of a maniac on the loose. Billed as a ‘theatrically charged musical comedy thriller’, the show is an interesting cocktail of genres. Perhaps director Robert McWhir was aiming for a theatrical Margarita: dazzling and strong with a bitter after-taste. Ultimately, though, the show is more like a cup of Gold Blend: a smooth, steady mixture that’s satisfying rather than heady, with enough foot-stomping music to keep the audience awake throughout. Costume designer Esther Rouah did deliver some wonderfully colourful outfits, especially those belonging to the socialite, Sarah Stone. By contrast, Mackay-Bruce stomped around in the same, crumpled brown suit for the whole performance, underlining the ‘married to the job’ complications featuring heavily in the storyline. Some dashing performances proved a hit with the audience. Kelly Burke demonstrated a diverse range of emotions and eye-catching stage presence as Stone, who falls in love with the detective. Taking advantage of a lively script, she delivered all the memorable one-liners that came her way with perfection. Paris got plenty of laughs with a plausible Noo Yawk accent in her role as the over-bearing Jewish mother, while Simon Loughton had fun as Kit Gill, the master of disguise who callously selected and strangled his female victims. However, the light-hearted touch employed during these moments sometimes jarred. The show’s narrative origins clearly lie in the American fascination with serial killers in popular culture, but the casual depiction of murder in this production failed to tackle deeper moral questions raised by such misogynistic violence. That's no way to treat a lady.

John Donne claimed “No man can be an island.” It is one of the phrases of our literature – one of a multitude – now made banal and sterilised by a carnivorous mass culture. The documentary film ‘Secret City’, directed and produced by Lee Salter, shows how, despite the sterility of the phrase, it is also false. The film is centred on that square mile which constitutes The City of London Corporation, exploring the tension between its infinitesimal geography and its immense global influence. Made on a zero budget Walters unearths, beneath the recondite surface-area, a corpulent morass whose arteries, sluicing with Capital, vivify a global economy. The documentary is a socio-historical investigation into an archaic institution – old but not emaciated – which pre-dates Parliament. With considerable success, despite a diminutive duration, the film explores the changing functions of The City of London from its position as an arbitration centre of maritime time to its contemporary saliency in global capitalism. Although lacking any central storyteller, the narrative is concise, the argument always clear. Mixing archive footage with interviews from activists and academics what emerges is a passionate, coherent film that stands against corporate insouciance and globalised indifference. The picture created of The City of London is that of the metal heart of modern capitalism, sustaining the hegemony of the Commodity; ‘A very queer thing, abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties.’ As one contributor puts it, by fuelling the decimation of a manufacturing base, what we have now is the secular religion of the commodity. This is not so much an island then (the image falls too easily on the mind) but a steel fortress enclosed by an inhuman façade with shit for brains and rust-coloured veins. The cool caresses of the sea transmogrify into the putrescent penury of the enfolding Boroughs. We all know the rapacious nature of free-market capitalism, however. We can all see its hellacious inequalities. It is visible. What is never challenged in the film is the left’s endemic failure in the face of such a situation. The Occupy movement is a central part of the film, but the wider public are disengaged from the planned economic alternatives offered by the Left. This is never explored, and as long as this is so the Left will keep on failing. Walters alluded to these coruscating lines of Marx, describing the cannibalistic nature of capitalism, in the post-screening discussion; “The need of a constantly expanding market for its products chases the bourgeoisie over the surface of the globe. It must nestle everywhere, settle everywhere, establish connections everywhere.” Faced with imminent ecological destruction, if we wish to survive into the next century we need to act. This will require an engaged and engaging left, it will come from nowhere else. Without it we may yet prove Eliot wrong, in another of those banal lines from our great literature; “This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang, but a whimper.”