Abortion and X-Factor may seem unlikely bedfellows, but they’re forced into an unholy union in the poptastic Journey to X.
Almost two decades have passed since Alexei Sayle last toured.
Kids’ comedy is harder than you’d think.
Fringe science: the number of people crammed into a venue is directly proportional to the liberties a reviewer can take.
The wonderfully-named Mervyn Stutter bounds to the stage, resplendent in an outrageous pink suit.
It’s raining outside and our host – Stuart Laws – is on a mission to entertain us.
The bassline reverberates through the floor as the DJ blasts the latest anthems.
The Bongo Club is more accustomed to hosting face-chewing ravers than sweet-chewing kiddies, but this evening the kindergarten has taken over.
Think of the most Scottish thing you can imagine.
When asked to recite Oscar Wilde’s career highlights, few people think of his children’s literature.
One of the beautiful things about the Fringe is the way in which so many shows can be supported simultaneously.
Life is a lottery.
With his sex offender specs and wiry frame, Sam Fletcher is a high-octane Jarvis Cocker.
Messing with Shakespeare is par for the course at the Fringe.
It’s not often I’m lost for words, but after witnessing the eyeball-popping spectacle that is Philosophy In The Bedroom, I’m not sure where to start.
One man’s Skrillex is another’s alien communique; one woman’s James Blunt is another’s coffee table garbage.
It is UWE Drama Society’s last show of the Fringe.
The term ‘award-winning’ has long since been rendered meaningless, devalued by anyone who ever unlocked a Steam gaming achievement appending it to their LinkedIn profile.
This is a show that spits in the face of gritty realism and then desecrates its grave.
Produced by Malibu’s Pepperdine University, Anon(ymous) is a modern retelling of Homer’s Odyssey, crammed into 90 action-packed minutes.
American comics like to please.
One week into the Fringe, and nursing a bank balance that’s lower than my Facebook shares, I’m forced to witness the Brian Kellock Trio.
Jigsaw Jim is a Springboard Theatre Company production that follows the Disney rules of entertainment: goodies have to be whiter than white, baddies blacker than black and never th…
A 75-minute performance of Romeo & Juliet is hardly the stuff that fills jaded reviewers with optimism.
“Get ready to ‘meat’ Buck Mathews.
Lewis Schaffer’s show is called Free Until Famous.
During a hectic Fringe, it’s not uncommon to find harassed reviewers jumping from venue to venue with scant knowledge of the next act on their schedule.
Jollygoodlarks conform to the internet school of naming: mash all your words together to form an unwieldy hybrid.
Attending free shows at the Fringe is something of a lottery.
What lengths would you go to just to taste a dram of whisky? Would you beg for it? Steal for it? Endure an hour of atrocious comedy for it?These are the questions you must ponder b…
Talk about selective memory.
The phrase ‘and much more’ has to be one of the laziest devices in the English language, appended onto sentences as a sign that the writer is bereft of ideas.
Having contrived to mix up my ‘C’s, I arrive late.
Every year, the Fringe seems to get zanier, with its sublime productions out-shouted by the ridiculous.
With a name like Beethoven for Breakfast, it stands to reason that this show won’t form the finale to a bacchanalian night’s boozing.
The key to successful comedy is getting your audience onside.
What determines whether a comedian’s name will be remembered or forgotten? An ability to make people laugh is always an asset.
Is it possible to describe Katherine Ryan without using the word ‘sassy?’ No.
One of the best things about the Fringe is its ability to throw up unexpected surprises; ducking into a pub to escape the worst ravages of the Scottish summer, it’s not uncommon …
‘A high quality all-female sketch group.
Comedians are a needy bunch.
The man looks like a comedian.
What makes for a memorable show? What transforms an enjoyable night out into an unforgettable experience? It’s not always possible to assess the permanence of a performance upon …
Ever since the dawn of the Toy Story dynasty, us grown-ups have been spoiled when it comes to children’s entertainment.
Like tightrope walking over the Niagara Falls, Baby Wants Candy is an ambitious concept: either it works or it ends up six miles downstream.
As a society, we take exception to things being faked; orgasms; friendships; wills.
The Twoks sounds like a kids cartoon you’d find on Nickelodeon Jr.
It’s a beautiful day at the Fringe and I’m sat on the top deck of a red bus in the Meadows.
Watching Alphonse is like taking a trip to the cinema.
My abiding memory of this show is that I have no abiding memory of this show.
Not all of life’s surprises can be nice, but Adam Kay transpires to be a very pleasant one indeed.
Struggling to Evolve ‘promises a guide to sex, drink and violence’ – which sounds like prime material for an edgy comedian seeking to unsettle his audience.
The word ‘comedienne’ has to be one of the ghastliest constructions in the English language.
There are 21 Richard Thompsons listed in Wikipedia, including a Conservative baronet, a racing driver and a Warner Bros animator.
Once upon a time, Worbey and Farrell played piano to diners in posh hotels.
The Truth, the Half-Truth and Nothing Like the Truth promises an hour of solid stand-up.
This year’s Fringe has witnessed the rise of a new genre of children’s theatre: butterplot.