“Saturday evening at the Fringe, you’ve probably either seen eight shows and hate comedy or you’re pissed,” says Kiri Pritchard-Mclean, speaking to my soul as I was very much in the former camp. Watching the corporate machine of the packed to the rafters Pleasance Courtyard complex churn on, as millennial yuppies on the quest for banter quaffed prosecco while cutting through the queue for the Attic, I can safely say that I hated everyone and everything.Read More
Too few Fringe performers hand out leaflets containing their research materials as suggestions for further reading. Angela Barnes is a secret nuclear bunker obsessive and happened to spend her 40th birthday in one with her boyfriend, when the news that Donald Trump would be the next President of the United States came through loud and clear on the radio. Up until that point, Barnes had been enjoying the solitude provided by the concrete getaway and honoured by her boyfriend – but now it seemed that world events meant they were better off living there forever.Read More
How was your April 2017? Suzi Ruffell’s was appalling and she’s here to tell you about what she’s learned, about herself and about the society in which we live in, since her tragic month. Though April included the death of two close family members, a break up and an unfortunate car accident with a deer, it is hard to imagine Ruffell as anything other than what she presents on stage, which is a person who not only accepts but revels in themselves.Read More
“If this is not the show you are looking for then go out, it’s out there somewhere,” says Wil Greenway at the close of These Trees the Autumn Leaves Alone. “I’m sorry if you didn’t like the show, we tried our best.” This is not my show and I didn’t like it. But I also know that they – they being Greenway and indie folk duo Kathryn Langshaw and Will Galloway – tried their best and that this most certainly someone’s show and they will love it. Maybe it’s you. Maybe you think I’m being cynical or unfair. Maybe I am. But these people were kind to me and I want to reciprocate, hoping that I can help them find their audience. Call me Cupid, why don’t you?Read More
Much of the Fringe marketing in recent memory has leaned upon exoticism, emphasising the bizarre combinations of messages and mediums, and the notion that what you see before you is something very different that you couldn’t possibly see anywhere else other than right here, right now. But sometimes, it’s when you are presented with a piece that is so familiar – when it feels like you have sat down in front of your emotional doppelgänger – that you realise there’s nothing quite like encountering what you already know; like feeling right at home.Read More
If you value our reviews, interviews and content, please consider supporting the site with a donation of your choosing.