Posts Tagged Edinburgh Fringe

Fringe Review: The Elton John Story

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The Elton John Story is another triumph from the Night Owl stable, a show that manages to combine top-class musicianship with warmth and fun. Angus Munro and the Night Owl Band don’t attempt to impersonate Elton (although I was pleased to see some sequins and glasses!) —what they do instead is far more effective. They let the songs speak for themselves, and in doing so, they remind us why Elton John is one of the greats.

A live performance of The Elton John Story featuring a band on stage with a male pianist in a white suit and sunglasses, playing a red keyboard, accompanied by singers and instrumentalists.

From the opening number, the audience is swept along by a setlist that covers both the barnstorming anthems and the tender ballads. For me, there was a personal moment of joy when the band launched into Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. That album was my entry point into Elton’s world (though not on it’s release in 1973!), and the title track remains one of my favourite songs. Hearing it live here, handled with such respect and energy, felt like coming full circle.

The show doesn’t shy away from telling the story behind the songs either, and rightly gives space to Elton’s long-time songwriting partner, Bernie Taupin. Their partnership is one of the most remarkable in music. Bernie’s words and Elton’s melodies have been fused together for over half a century, producing classics like Rocket Man, Your Song, and Tiny Dancer. It’s a reminder that even the brightest star doesn’t shine alone—behind Elton’s showmanship has always been Bernie’s lyrical craft.

Angus Munro fronts the band with a mixture of power and charisma, his vocals soaring where they need to and softening at just the right moments. His piano playing gives the performance its heartbeat, and the Night Owl Band back him with energy and precision. There is plenty of humour in the delivery too—this is not a show weighed down with solemnity, but a celebration that often feels like a shared party.

One of the things I noticed as the show drew towards its finale was the atmosphere in the room. People were itching to dance—you could feel it. But British reserve, that old restraint, held most of us back. I’ll admit, I was tempted to start it off myself. Maybe next time I’ll be the one to break the ice, because I’m certain once one person gets up, the whole place will follow. A nudge from the stage might help too. After all, this is music meant to move us, body as well as soul.

The storytelling thread in the show also touches on Elton’s charity work, particularly the Elton John AIDS Foundation. It’s to the credit of the performers that this part is included. Elton’s legacy isn’t only measured in record sales and sold-out stadiums, but also in the lives he has touched and changed through his philanthropy. The Foundation has raised hundreds of millions to fight AIDS worldwide, a cause Elton has championed with tireless energy. That side of his story deserves just as much applause as his music, and I respect him greatly for it.

In the end, The Elton John Story works because it doesn’t treat the songs as relics of nostalgia but as living, breathing works that still connect. The audience laughed, sang along, and for a moment or two you could feel the whole room leaning forward, carried by the force of the music. It’s the kind of show that leaves you humming on the way out and smiling for hours afterwards.

Elton John once said that “music has healing power.” This show proves the point. It’s not an imitation—it’s a celebration. Next time, I’ll be ready to start the dancing.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

More information and tickets here

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Supermarket 86: A Raw Exploration of Female Friendships

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Supermarket 86 – Dream House | theSpace @ Surgeons Hall

In the flickering fluorescence of a small-town convenience store, Supermarket 86 unfolds like a memory half-recalled—warm, awkward, and tinged with regret. It’s 2007, and a blizzard has swept through Ithaca, New York, closing the roads and trapping five young women overnight in a supermarket that feels more like a liminal space than a retail outlet. What begins as a weather-induced inconvenience becomes a crucible for confession, confrontation, and quiet catharsis.

Mia Pelosi’s script is deceptively gentle. It doesn’t shout its themes—it lets them seep in slowly, like the chill through the automatic doors that never quite close. As Rose, the weary cashier with a voice like gravel softened by honey, Pelosi anchors the piece with a performance that’s all restraint and resonance. Her ex walks in just before the power cuts, and the emotional voltage spikes. What follows is a series of revelations—some whispered, some shouted—that feel earned, even when the plot leans on coincidence.

The ensemble cast includes four other women—Jules, Tasha, Lena, and Morgan—each drawn with care and played with conviction. They blow in with the storm, bringing unresolved histories, half-healed wounds, and the kind of emotional shorthand that only comes from years of shared summers and broken promises. The chemistry between them is electric—so natural, so unforced, it feels less like theatre and more like eavesdropping. Their dialogue crackles with authenticity: half-finished sentences, private jokes, and moments of silence that speak louder than words.

A young woman sitting at a supermarket counter, looking contemplative, with shelves of products in the background and a snowy effect overlay, promoting the play 'Supermarket 86'.

For some audience members—particularly men—there’s a voyeuristic thrill to this intimacy. All five characters are female, and the show offers a rare window into the emotional terrain of young women navigating identity, legacy, and longing. It’s not exploitative, but it does evoke the same curiosity that once made Cosmopolitan a guilty pleasure for male readers: a sense of listening in on conversations not meant for them, and being moved by what they hear.

Director Ellie Aslanian keeps the staging tight and intimate, using the confines of the Stephenson Theatre to evoke both claustrophobia and closeness. The set—a lovingly cluttered supermarket aisle—becomes a metaphor for emotional detritus: the things we carry, the things we discard, and the things we pretend not to see.

What elevates Supermarket 86 beyond its premise is its emotional honesty. It’s a play about young women navigating the messy terrain of friendship, grief, and self-definition. It’s about the stories we tell ourselves to survive, and the ones we finally dare to share when the night is long and the exits are blocked.

The show never overreaches. It stays grounded in the human, the awkward, the tender. And in doing so, it reminds us that even the most ordinary places—a supermarket, a snowstorm, a game of “Truth or Dare”—can become sacred when we choose to show up fully.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

Tickets and more information here We interviewed Mia Pelosi here

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Abhorrent Little Scrotum – Edinburgh Fringe Review

Fragen Network’s Abhorrent Little Scrotum is a surreal, darkly comic cyber-thriller that slips between physical theatre, psychological depth, and the destabilising hum of digital disorientation. It’s a tight, intense piece that asks what happens when technology not only rewrites reality, but rewires the self.

We meet Jack, a hacker in freefall after a personal collapse, who dives into “The Experience”—a shifting, hallucinatory mindscape—to save her friend Dari (Angel Lopez-Silva) from a mental virus. The rescue mission is part friendship, part obsession. Dari’s grip on reality is slipping, but so is Jack’s. As the hunt deepens, what’s real, what’s virtual, and what’s imagined blur until they’re indistinguishable. The piece thrives on this instability, using movement, sound, and fractured dialogue to immerse the audience in a space where betrayal feels inevitable and identity is never fixed. Some of the physicality is deliberately unsettling—stabbing, strangulation, and sudden bursts of violence punctuate the action, reinforcing the sense of threat and instability.

The tone is part neo-noir cyberpunk fever dream, part intimate character study. Fragen Network’s trademark high-energy movement and razor wit—seen in Blush of Dogs and Hell Yes I’m Tough Enough—is sharpened here into something more personal. It’s a complex, demanding show that requires the audience to think hard about what it’s depicting. At times it’s more thought-provoking than entertaining, and its ambiguity will frustrate some while fascinating others. The performers are an ensemble cast, the role of Dari is performed by Anastasiya Zinovieva. ,Angel Lopez-Silva plays Brittl Hardware, who is working with Jack (whose alter-ego Herbert is helping him get into the Experience, played by Zaza Bagley. They deliver layered, committed performances that ground the surreal visuals and shifting realities in raw, emotional truth. This is theatre that keeps you guessing—sometimes uncomfortably so—long after you’ve left the theatre

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

More information and tickets here

Read our interview with the Director, Roland Reynolds here

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Ringing Bells: A Reflection on Life’s Changes

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Ringing Out the Changes 334 words, 2 minutes read time.

Accompanied by Susannah, Eli and Geoffrey on handbells, the playwright Jo Clifford, (author of the controversial The Gospel according to Jesus, Queen of Heaven), reflects on the role of bells in the cycle of our lives.
Each of the handbells has a name:
Justice, Courage, Humility, Faithfulness, Continence, Patience, Reverence, Loyalty, Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. It’s all in the bells. Let’s live our lives in justice, have courage to make it happen, keep hoping, walk in peace, walk in joy, and live in love.
To the sound of various sets played by the three bell ringers, Jo gives a fascinating account of the use of bells in history. Bells conjured up unhappy school memories for Jo. Some of her audience might have similar miserable recollections.

A group of four individuals engaged in a discussion about handbells in a cathedral setting, with a table of handbells in front of them.

Bells often ring out to signify changes, good and bad. Church bells celebrated Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee and the bloody triumphs of Empire. Bells – specifically the bells of St Mary’s Cathedral in Edinburgh – tolled for the thousands of young men butchered in the trenches of the world wars. Bells rang out to celebrate victory in those wars. Bells rang to mourn Queen Elizabeth’s death and to celebrate the coronation of Charles III.
Bells were controversial in the early conflicts between Christianity and Islam and later around the Reformation. John Knox wasn’t a fan, but things moved on. Bells eventually found a place in the Protestant churches.
Jo tells the story of St Mary’s Cathedral, a testimony to two powerful women, Barbara and Mary Walker who led a quiet revolution. They inherited their father’s business and used the money to build the West End of the New Town. They set aside money to build a cathedral in their late mother’s name. They knew that there was more to life than just making money. They never lived to see the magnificent gothic revival cathedral take shape, but they had the vision to see it through.
Who knew that bells could be so interesting?

Reviewed by David Kerr

More information and tickets here

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‘What If We Did?’ A Satirical Take on Modern Politics

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Minotaur Theatre Company’s I’m Not Saying We Should, But What If We Did? grabs its audience by the lapels from the opening moments and doesn’t let go for its brisk 50-minute run. On the surface, it’s a playful absurdist comedy about two aspiring leaders, Maud and Agnes, who appear on a Saturday night chat show to announce a radical proposal: banning men. But beneath the smeared lipstick, slapstick chaos, and clownish costumes lies a sharply observed critique of modern politics, the cult of personality, and the media’s role in amplifying both.

Two women in white dresses performing energetically on chairs in a theatrical setting, symbolizing a playful and chaotic atmosphere.

The dialogue is fast, layered, and deliberately overlapping – a rhythm that mimics real television panel shows and talk radio debates, where wit and dominance are measured in how quickly you can jump in before someone else. This choice, far from being a gimmick, intensifies the realism and keeps the pace electric. It’s a device that works hand-in-hand with the satire: in a world where soundbites and spectacle win over reasoned argument, Maud and Agnes thrive, escalating their proposals into a carnival of half-serious policies and performative outrage. The absurdist flashbacks punctuate the action, deepening the comedy while underlining the dangerous slipperiness of populist rhetoric.

By the time the show descends into drenched mayhem – the physical embodiment of their spiralling ideas – the audience has been taken on a journey that’s as unsettling as it is entertaining. The parallels to contemporary politics are impossible to miss: when celebrity leaders can be voted into power on a mix of bravado, charm, and absurd promises, how far-fetched is the notion that a pair of clown-painted activists could capture the public imagination? It’s satire with bite, performed with fearless energy. For anyone interested in how spectacle can distort democracy, this is a smart, funny, and uncomfortably relevant watch.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

More information and tickets here

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Sauna Boy – Behind the Steam

Sauna Boy at the Edinburgh Fringe 2025: 391 words, 2 minutes read time.

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Dan Ireland-Reeves’s Sauna Boy plunges us into a world most audiences will never see – the UK’s most successful (and infamous) gay sauna – and does so with a blend of humour, tenderness, and hard truths. The setting isn’t just a backdrop for risqué laughs; it’s a place of work, a community hub, and a stage for both human warmth and ruthless exploitation. Ireland-Reeves, a multi-award-winning writer and performer, draws on his own experience to guide us through this hidden world. The result is a semi-autobiographical 70-minute show that pulses with the same frenetic energy as its soundtrack, while never losing sight of the characters’ humanity.

A digitally created image of a muscular man standing in a doorway illuminated with pink neon lights, wearing a white towel, suggesting themes of intimacy and allure.

As “Danny Boy,” he begins in the lowest-paid roles – cleaner, receptionist – before rising to manager. Along the way, we meet the staff and regulars, each rendered with quick, knowing sketches and pitch-perfect impressions. There’s “Mother,” the manipulative and somewhat callous sauna owner, ruling with a mix of faux-care and quiet menace. There’s Chase, a colleague and friend, whose fate provides one of the show’s most painful moments when Danny is told to fire him. And there’s a cast of clients, from the likeable and desireable to the obnoxious, each forming part of the sauna’s shared history and strange camaraderie. Ireland-Reeves’s knack for switching between voices and physicalities is so deft that you feel you’ve met these people yourself.

For all the comedy – and there’s plenty, from awkward encounters to laugh-out-loud “behind-the-scenes” stories – Sauna Boy has a political undercurrent. Low pay, long hours, and emotional manipulation are never far from the surface. The sauna is a place of desire and escape, but also a workplace where staff are under pressure, often exploited, and where intimacy coexists with power imbalances. The eight-question FAQ section, rattled off at speed, is a highlight, packing in wry humour with unexpected education. If anything, the piece could benefit from sharper editing – trimming ten minutes would keep the energy at full steam – but as it stands, this is an engaging and sometimes sobering hour. Sponsored by Steamworks, Edinburgh’s own gay sauna, it played to an audience that seemed to be largely gay couples, who responded warmly. Sauna Boy is more than titillation – it’s an affectionate but unflinching portrait of a scene rarely shown so honestly on stage.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

Find out more informtion and buy tickets here

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Experience Edinburgh Fringe’s Bold ‘Ask A Stripper’

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Ask A Stripper: Pulling Back the G-String: 646 words, 3 minutes read time.

Some shows at the Edinburgh Fringe are one-off thrills. You see them, you laugh, you go home. Ask A Stripper isn’t like that. I first saw it on a converted bus—an intimate, cheeky, slightly chaotic setting that suited it perfectly. Now it’s in Dragonfly, an atmospheric cocktail bar just a short walk from the so-called “pubic triangle,” home to three of Edinburgh’s strip clubs, including the iconic Western and the Burke and Hare. That proximity isn’t just geographical—it’s thematic. You’re in the heart of the conversation before the show even begins.

Two female performers in colorful outfits pose for a promotional image. One holds a sign reading 'SEX WORK IS WORK!' while the other poses confidently by a pole.

This time the hosts were Stacey Clare, author of The Ethical Stripper, and Savannah DuVall, who brought her own sharp wit and warm presence to the mix. The format remains disarmingly simple: two strippers on stage, an audience with questions, and absolutely nothing off the table. I’ve seen this show multiple times over its five-Fringe run, and that’s the beauty—you can go again and again because the audience shapes it. No two nights are alike. This time, the questions centred on boundaries—where they’re set, how they’re enforced (and by whom)—and what makes a venue truly good to work at. That led to revealing stories about respect, safety, pay, and the fine line between “fun” and “exploitative.”

What Ask A Stripper does especially well is expose the transactional nature of sex work. Yes, there’s the obvious exchange of performance for money, but there’s a deeper layer—a psychological transaction. Customers often come seeking validation, fantasy, or even a kind of therapy disguised as entertainment. The labour is emotional as much as it is physical. It’s about creating an atmosphere, playing a role, and knowing exactly how to negotiate those unspoken contracts while keeping control of the interaction. Stacey’s insights into the psychology of how to control a group of potentially rowdy males was gold. That emotional labour is invisible to many outside the industry, yet it’s central to the job. Given that the job is transactional it’s no surprise that some strippers start to think about broader power relations in society.

And that’s why strippers need unions as Stacey Clare made clear. This is a job like any other in the sense that it involves management, workplace rules, payment systems, and power dynamics. It’s also a job like no other in the level of stigma, legal ambiguity, and exploitation it can attract if workers aren’t organised. The Sex Workers’ Union here in the UK has done sterling work in pushing for basic rights—safe working conditions, fair pay, protection from harassment—but they are up against deeply entrenched prejudice and politicians eager to regulate without listening. As a union man through and through, I recognise the same patterns I’ve seen in countless other industries: bosses maximising profit by keeping workers divided, insecure, and afraid to speak out. Organising is the antidote.

The mood in Dragonfly suited this conversation perfectly. Intimate with the hosts close, and £10 cocktails worth every penny helped create the sense that we weren’t just at a performance, but in an unfiltered, wide-ranging dialogue. The humour was sharp and plentiful—these strong, intelligent women can puncture awkwardness in a heartbeat—but the political undercurrent was unmistakable. This is about the realities of sex work: the rights, the risks, the compromises, and the pride. It’s also about the human side of an industry that too many only see in terms of titillation or scandal.

And yes, there’s nudity. This is Ask A Stripper, after all. If that, or frank sexual talk, makes you squeamish, then it’s not for you. But if you can handle honesty in its rawest form, you’ll leave with more than you came for—new perspectives, a few laughs, maybe a cocktail buzz and perhaps even a renewed sense of why empathy and solidarity matter.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

More information and tickets here

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Sister Prudence: A Journey of Faith and Identity

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Prudence Play (or Sister Prudence is NOT Gay) 481 words, 3 minutes read time.

In her dreams, Sister Prudence is wearing a sparkly little black dress and tap-dancing to Britney Spears. It’s a contrast from her boring, regimented life as a Catholic nun. Now and again, however, the nuns go on vocational visits to St Augustine’s school in a bus. There she sits next to her friend, another sister, who tells her about a ‘hot priest’ she’d seen in Fleabag on a sabbatical visit to her family. In this one-woman show, the author and performer, Caroline Dunn, uses a handheld mask when she plays the other sister.

Prudence has grown up with a fear of eternal punishment. She learned from a very young age that you go to hell if you don’t watch your step. She tries to be like her name, prudent, careful with decision making, careful with sin. Becoming a nun was her ‘get outta hell backup plan.’

She lies to herself and the school kids, ‘I’m so at peace. Jesus called me since I was a little girl,’ but in the confession, she admits this lie, but still tries to convince herself that she only admires the other sister as ‘a friend, a friend. She’s got nice hair. A nice face. God blessed her with this. Sure, ‘there’s nothing wrong with admiring a friend, right?’

The action switches between Sister Prudence thinking aloud, Prudence in the confessional and in conversations with the attractive sister. She goes to the fish fry – she hates fish – ‘just to socialise.’ She tries to deny the blatantly obvious, that her friendly thoughts and admiration for the other sister are much more than that.

Just hanging out, having great craic with the the other sister, Prudence gathers her courage and recalls a summer when she was about 12-13 when she spent a whole summer with another girl of the same age. She blurts out, ‘you remind me of her. I love you.’ Suddenly a door slams in her face.  ‘Shut up! Stop! You should not have told me. You need to talk to the priests, to the Superior and about your history’ and she gives out the old line about hating the sin and loving the sinner. The other sister grasses her up. How will she cope with the truth? How will she deal with the betrayal of her confidence? What would you do in her circumstances?

This insightful production brings to life the internal struggles of many gay people of faith as they try to reconcile what they’ve been taught with who they are. The probing, intrusive questions of the investigating priest, Father Moriarty, and the use of shame to bring her back in line all ring true. With good humour, Caroline Dunn’s powerful, haunting script throws a spotlight on the mental conflict conservative religious teachings impose on gay people.

Reviewed by David Kerr

More information and Tickets here

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Angela Mackenzie’s Captivating Gospel Choir Performance

Four black stars in a row, representing a rating.

377 words, 2 minutes read time.

Florida native Angela Mackenzie, now based in Stirling, has assembled a very accomplished fifty-voice gospel choir. Leading from her grand piano, Angela brings bubbly enthusiasm to the stage in the historic New Town Church. The acoustics in this elliptical building enhance the quality of the music.


Coming from a Presbyterian tradition, I especially enjoyed the choir’s a cappella rendition of the ‘Old One Hundredth’, All People that on Earth do Dwell. The Amazing Life Gospel Choir are very versatile; some songs sung in unison, others in harmony. Apart from the piano, the choir were accompanied at times by drums, a violinist, a cellist, an electric keyboard, and an upright bass. The deep sonorous sound of Amazing Grace played on a solo cello is more felt than heard. It reaches down to the core of your soul.


The audience (or was it a congregation?) lapped it up. During an interval, a pastor from a local church gave a message, ‘What do you want more of in your life?’

A vibrant group of singers from the Amazing Life Gospel Choir performing on stage, showcasing a diverse range of expressions and enthusiasm.


I was less impressed by Angela’s altar call and the manipulative use of music to proselytise ‘for Jesus’ with reference to the penitent thief who died on a cross beside him. This was irritating me but then the mood changed. Angela asked from the stage for requests for songs. We got the old Carter Family standard; Will the Circle be Unbroken? Then a voice came from the back, Yeshua. Angela looked puzzled. ‘How does that go?’ A couple of voices started singing. Beautiful unaccompanied singing filled the church.


Angela was impressed. She invited the singers to come to the front of the church. They were members of a visiting South African choir. They sang their song, Yeshua a cappella with impressive harmonisation. They stole the show.


The concert concluded with an exuberant medley of I’ll Fly Away and When the Saints Go Marching In where everyone was up, singing, dancing and clapping in time with the music. It was a fantastic gig, and a reminder that music can unite, music can inspire boundless joy and delight, but it can also manipulate the emotions. That might not be the Holy Spirit touching your heart, but something more psychological. Something to think about.


Reviewed by David Kerr

More information and tickets here

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Join the Fun at ‘Challenge’ – A Hilarious Japanese Comedy

265 words, 1 minute read time

This enjoyable comedy from Japan has a bit of everything, mime, conjuring, slapstick, and acrobatics. Akira Ishida stars as a bored office worker who decides to enliven his hum drum existence by taking on a series of challenges to impress and win the heart of the girl who drops into his life played by Alice Ayano.

Before the story begins, there is a brief period of audience participation where a mysterious figure clad all in black invites people to come on stage and remove pieces from a puzzle and have a try at the Japanese art of Kendama. The black clad figure goes on to play the role of both provider of special effects, (a watering spray providing the rain as our protagonist looks out the window no doubt contemplating another boring day at work), and announcer, holding up banners in English and Japanese describing whether our hero is dreaming, (in one sequence bravely taking on a drunk on the train who is harassing the girl of his dreams), or reality, (where he is meekly asking the pest to stop) and also describes the scene setting such as “HOME” as well as flipping over a list of days illustrating the time spent by the main character in mastering a number of tricks.

A scene from a comedic performance featuring a diverse cast celebrating and participating in a challenge. The main character in a teal suit is interacting with a colorful tower of pieces while other performers, including a woman in a red dress and a man in a bowtie, observe excitedly from the background. A backdrop displaying the word 'CHALLENGE' is visible.

Amongst memorable moments are an exciting sword fight when our office worker is in the virtual world of a gaming headset and a mime involving a briefcase with a mind of its own! The energetic and talented cast make “Challenge” a most enjoyable show.

More information and tickets here

Reviewed by David Andrews

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