SUMMER 2026 SUMMARY
Note: Shows that are starred were most liked by our group.
Thursday, Aug. 6:
After a 6pm dinner at the Indian restaurant Everest (just down the street from our house), we went to see our old favorite 1) Baby Wants Candy, the Chicago-based group that performs amazing, entirely improvised musical comedy inspired every night by a different title voted on by the audience. Tonight it was “Phantom of the Trailer Park.” Situating themselves in Mississippi (and other vaguely Southern spaces), they traced the story of a young Miss Teen beauty pageant contestant who becomes the target of the phantom. A pedophile, he plants an ear worm in her that tells her everything about her teen body is wrong, and that only he can help. Eventually, of course, Miss Teen regains her self esteem, stops walking through mirrors, and ends up gloriously self-actualized. Tons of fun, including lots of RFK jokes. Check out his highlight reel from their New York production, and you’ll see what we mean. ****
Friday, Aug. 7:
Our absolute favorite production was a devised show by the young company Denmark Street Productions (UK) called 2) Doomscroll Till I Die. The high energy, comic extravaganza offered precisely choregraphed, and hilarious, scenes dealing with phone addiction, social media, and modern digital isolation. They mirrored to the audience the jarring juxtapositions and rapid-fire nature of our phone’s live feed, and, without getting maudlin, its social consequences. One of the most memorable scenes featured an extended sequence where the actors perfectly lip-synced various instruments to make the sounds we hear on our phones, often while waiting for something to happen. Our first five star show. *****
The sad and serious docudrama 3) Woodhill offered us a complete change of pace from the buzzy comedy of Doomscroll. Cardboard boxes stacked up on metal shelving fill the large stage of Zoo Southside as we enter; the actors slowly take down the boxes, look in them, and reshelve them quietly through the play. Eventually, we learn they represent the effects of prisoners who have died in prison. Based on 70 interviews, whose words are voiced by the actors, the play tells the story of Kevin Scarlett, Stephen Farrar and Chris Carpenter: All had mental health problems and were found dead in their cells between 2013 and 2018. The original play opened in 2023 when the survivors were still seeking answers–but little has changed since that time and questions about exactly what happened remain unanswered. A combination of verbatim theatre, docudrama, and dance, the play serves as an activist call for prison reform even as it traces the grief, horror, and heartbreak of those left behind.
After a bite to eat at our favorite gin bar/restaurant 54 North, we moved to the small Anatomy Lecture Theatre in Summerhall for 4) Boogie on the Bones, a Soviet-inspired political musical brought to Edinburgh by a committed group of young actors from Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia. Set in 1955 Moscow, the play explores the underground youth movement called Stilyagi, which used jazz, Western fashion, and banned music recorded on discarded x-ray discs as a form of political resistance. The minimalist staging included large, creepy-looking grey heads of communist leaders that surround the stage and face the audience. The strongest actor of the group played Katya, dressed in severe grey and a functionary of the state’s surveillance system. She encourages her friend, a musician, to infiltrate the Stilyagi; but the heady music and activities of the group eventually persuade both characters to abandon their authoritarian ideas. The actors remind the audience that they are all still living under oppressive regimes, that their play could not be performed in their home countries, where even the music they listen to can put them at risk. Both thoroughly entertaining, and timely. (Below some clips from their preview show in London just before the Fringe.
While some of our group stayed at Summerhall for the 5) Speakeasy Experience that evening, the others saw Lions in the same venue. Of the two, the one that offered you two, strong, mixed cocktails, one with Absinthe, was definitely the winner! The immersive experience in a hidden back room leaned on Summerhall’s history as a commercial brewery established in the early 1700s before being bought and repurposed for the Royal (Dick) Veterinary College (hence the name of Summerhall’s pub).
The site operated as a veterinary school until 2010 before it became more of a community center and exhibition space. The one man show featured a bartender from France (who currently works at the distillery) who herded a small group into a hidden back room, papered over with old newspaper articles and animal skulls. There he pattered away about the qualities of various spirits as he first mixed a tonic designed to stir the senses, and then blended an elixir inspired by bizarre early-century surgical crafts. We left entertained, and a bit tipsy!
6) Lions was not the group’s favorite, perhaps because of the broad, melodramatic acting. Coming with accolades from the Philadelphia Fringe, the play bills itself as “a sweaty mustache of a comedy about the business of letting our dads die.” Aiming to disassemble the myths their fathers told about themselves becoming great men, the “part clown show…part deconstructed eulogy” focused on the complicated relationship between fathers and sons. With only a 2-star review from our group, only 4 us saw the play. Based on the promo, though, I’m sorry I missed it!
Saturday, Aug. 8: (and my daughter’s 40th birthday–Happy Birthday, Megan! Your theatre-junkie mother misses another one)
The day began with 7) The Trials of Magnus Coffinkey, a two-hander from Malta written and excellently acted by husband-and-wife team Joseph Zammit and Becky Camilerri. Told by parents grieving a late term miscarriage (a fact we learn quite late in the play), this dark fairy-tale underscores the power of story-telling to process personal trauma. The Fringe blurb summarizes the plot: “In a whimsical land of broken toys, Magnus Coffinkey must fix a bell atop an impossibly high spire. Success will make his wish come true. The price of failure is a permanently broken heart.” Simply told and precisely choreographed, the play is both funny and heart wrenching. I wasn’t the only one leaving the theatre in tears! Below find a video of their rehearsal process in Malta. ****
Moving from Summerhall to the BellyButton at Cowgate involved a walk past Greyfriar’s Bobby to see 8) BlackBox: An Epic Poem with Magic, by African American playwright Rickerby Hinds, who was commissioned by Ford Theatre to write a play about American history. According to an interview with the playwright, the extraordinary story of Henry Box Brown, who in 1849, shipped himself to freedom in a box, “found him.” Adapted from Brown’s own narrative, which describes the seven positions he was in during his escape, gave Rickerby the seven-scene structure of the play. Brown lived as a magician after his escape, and the play mixes illusion and history, spectacle and testimony, gospel-infused soundscapes and spoken word aesthetics. The play is both smart and moving: we leave the theatre chastened and astounded at Brown’s story of suffering and miraculous escape. ****
The next two events on our schedule, part of the International Edinburgh Festival, seemed fitting: first, a visit to the devastating, Alabama-based Legacy of Slavery exhibit, and then to the joyful and inspiring concert by Wynton Marsalis 9) All Rise. This massive jazz symphony in 12 movements pays tribute to the 12-bar blues and blends musical influences from around the world. Marsalis’s final performance of the piece with his Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra is made all the grander by the addition of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, the 200-person Edinburgh Festival Chorus and Jason Max Ferdinand Singers, and the direction of James Gaffin. And if that were not enough, the 2.5-hour concert that opened the International Festival (and inspired its theme) ended with a lively second line that paraded out to the steps of Usher Hall and played on into the night. *****
Between the two festival events, five of our group decided to brave 10) COMA. An immersive audio experience set in the total darkness of a shipping container, the 360-degree soundscape heard on headphones, while lying on a bed, is intended to recreate the feeling of being in a coma. Not for everyone, but a typical fringe experience that several of us could not pass up.
Sunday, Aug. 9:
In our first foray to the Traverse, we saw one of our favorite performances: 11) Bog Witch by Bryony Kimmings. (For a review of her 2019 performance, scroll through to find I’m a Phoenix, Bitch,) Kimmings is an amazing solo performer whose narrative pieces can alternate in tone between hilarious comic bits and heart-rending confessional moments in the blink of an eye. The autobiographically based narrative follows Kimming’s revelation that ordering cigarettes and whiskey from Deliveroo along with her other capitalist ways, no longer fills her “soul hole.” So she moves with her new-found “eco-warrior” boyfriend to a tumbledown, off the grid, cottage in the wilderness where her five-year-old son thrives (and she does not). Worried she’ll eventually die and decompose in the bog, she nevertheless makes a go of it for the sake of the planet. The process, including making contact with her loony neighbors and suffering a miscarriage (a Fringe theme this year?) is, believe it or not, sidesplittingly funny. At the end of the play, members of the audience help Kimmings stage the town’s crazy “Council of Beings” with large puppetheads representing the earth and other non-humans. And here Bryony, with a touch of irony and a nod to our role as an audience, notes that it is really sometimes ok to be “in large groups of people, doing something participatory.” *****
The next play we saw, in the smaller Traverse 2, suffered a bit in comparison. A mostly one-woman show written and performed by Malaika Kegode, 12) Badgers traces the attempt by a young and struggling podcaster named Mele (the Latin name for badger), living in the shadow of her terminally ill and highly successful mother, to make it big as a true crime podcaster. With the help of two musicians in the studio box behind her, she stumbles upon the disappearance of a local musician 10 years earlier, who, according to her reclusive landlord, stole a cursed folk song and was subsequently turned into a badger. A folk talk about a folk tale, the play touches on the ethics of true crime podcasting as it takes us episode by episode into a very strange story, spun out by a less than qualified true crime podcaster. Most of the group found the set’s centrally located sound studio distracting, but reviewers tended to praise the music, digital screens and abstract video designs more than the story itself, which didn’t seem to have much of a point. Ah well, at least Mele had strong acting skills.
The day ended with our foray to Leith to see an adaptation of Andrew O’Hagan’s best-selling novel 13) Mayflies in a production by Grid Iron, a Scottish group best known for its site-specific theatre. The play took place in what looked like an abandoned warehouse, fitted up in every corner with fairly uncomforable seats, and intended to represent the iconic venues of Manchester’s 1980’s music scene. 
Energetically performed by the group, who used the entire space for their stage, the play focuses on the story of “Noodles” and his best friend Tully Dawson from their teenage years to middle age when Tully faces a devastating diagnosis and tries to enlist his friend into helping him end his life on his own terms (which he ultimately does). The sound score for this play about male friendship, masculinity, and mortality, was praised by reviewers (our group wished there was even more), and the acting was superb. We all, however, wished for comfier seats!
Monday, Aug. 10:
The next two days designated as “2 for 1” ticket days–so, more shows than usual. But we’re ready, we’ve been practicing! Back to Summerhall for the day, we begin with Sam Ward’s astounding endurance feat of simply reading his play, 14) As Far As We Know, at breakneck speed, for an hour. 
We are told at the beginning not to worry, that even though we think we’re missing out, we think we’re being left behind, we think the events described are strange and difficult and coming too quickly, we think we’ll be confused and worry that we won’t be able to understand, “everything will make sense in the end.” The promise is one the author can’t entirely keep, but that is really the point of this strange story about a woman who wakes up one day to find holes in her yard and starts us on a journey to learn the meaning of it all. It’s quite a journey! The formally attired playwright looks like a professor at his desk, complete with reading light, as he takes us through a maddening world of government departments, banks, data centers and deserts–all at a crazy clip that keeps the audience locked in on his words. The excellent sound design punctuates the story at crucial moments and also keeps us from dozing off. If only we knew what it all meant when the story ends (sort of how it begins). So much for promises. ****
Downstairs in the Old Gents Locker Room, we are treated to an award-winning 
sound artist’s ironic love letter to the history of flight. Martha Knight’s 15) The King of All Birds is based, in part, on the phenomenon of aeria photos being displayed in Irish homes from the 1960s. Beginning with an exploration of ancient mythological birds, she brings us to present-day airplanes, satellites and drones, using voice, vocoder, live electronics, song, and traditional Irish music in a play understandably supported by Culture Ireland. This play divided our group–some loved it, some didn’t. But everyone agreed that it was interesting and completely original.
A comedy that ends in tragedy, the 16) Julius Caesar Variety Show (also supported by Culture Ireland) begins with three actors–a Black male, a white female, and a straight white male–auditioning for a role in a highly reputed director’s new “unorthodox” production of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. As the play unfolds, the actors are individually put through exercises that exploit their identities in increasingly uncomfortable ways.
In this interrogation of the theatre industry’s supposedly inclusive practices, the director is revealed to be insensitive, highly exploitative, politically incorrect, racist and sexist–or more simply put, a cringey asshole. Tension mounts as the director completely ignores the far-right riots occurring just outside the theatre. Although the audience feels in on the joke as the play makes fun of both the clueless director and the actors trying to impress him, the action turns increasingly dark to end somewhat startlingly, with actors murdering the director in a bloody stabbing. And so we come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. ****
After dinner, the rest of our group saw (and liked) the Speakeasy Experience (see above). But the highlight of the day, and indeed of the entire Fringe this year, was what came next: 17) Bigfoot Ripped my Dog in Half and I Saw It by Xhloe and Natasha. Like their earlier shows, What if We Ate the Baby? and A Letter to Lyndon B. Johnson or God: Whoever Reads this First, Bigfoot featured an exuberant piece of masterfully choreographed theatre by two of the most original and skilled, devised theatre practitioners performing today. Imagine a car accident, a dead dog, and two scared teenagers trying to cover their tracks by claiming to have seen Bigfoot. Set in a snow-covered, Fargo-like Appalachian town, the rumor mill runs wild, and with the skill of clowns on steroids, Xhloe and Natasha do all the accents and play all the parts. We don’t actually know what happened to the dog (that it was run over and ended up in two pieces) until late in the play, by which time the Bigfoot rumors are too big to fail. Once again, Xhloe and Natasha’s utterly convincing characters and impeccable timing make a riveting and hilarious evening for its lucky audience. No wonder they sell out their run in a split second. Go see them in New York if you can! *****
Tues, Aug. 11:
Most of our group made it to a 10am show this morning, and were rewarded 
with 18) Noted, The Backpack–a fast-paced, movement-based comedy combining non-spoken performance, music, dance and media with over 400 hand-drawn images strapped to the performers and transforming scenes at every turn of the page. Something like a live-action cartoon, the actors find themselves in dialog using only images and in recognizable scenarios (such as a dinner party) with only black and white images telling the tale (e.g., of setting the table, serving food, eating, and cleaning up). Whimsical and utterly entertaining, our group was amazed at how much can be communicated with a child-like, black and white drawing, as well as with just how MANY drawings the company used in an hour. Another original of the kind only found on the fringe!
Our full group was back for 19) Jitters, not to be confused with the Canadian play by David French. This play was written by 
Ellen Robertson and performed with her best friend since childhood, Charly Clive. The play opens an hour before a wedding, with a jittery bride being confronted with the bride’s future daughter-in-law, who is the same age. What could have been a Saturday Night Live sketch develops onstage into a deeper exploration of millennial financial anxiety (the daughter needs her father’s money but doesn’t approve of his bride), generational wealth (the bride is marrying into it for good reason) and modern family dynamics (blended families, gender-related trauma, stepmothers). In the beginning, we sympathize with the butch-like Robertson who cannot believe her father is marrying someone her own age rather than the chattering bride with the forced smile, patronizing commentary, and gold-digger vibe. By the end, though, we better understand the bride’s choices and more clearly see the privileged view held by her future daughter-in-law–who seems mostly worried about losing her hefty allowance. The crisp, fast-paced dialogue and skillful acting enhanced the tension of a play that could have gone anywhere; but the wedding does go on, if not so happily ever after. ****
Like the earlier play Badgers, the Scottish play 20) Shotgunned suffered a bit in comparison to the play we saw immediately before it. Another intimate two-hander, these less experienced actors portrayed a couple, Dylan and Roz, who meet at a party and fall unexpectedly out of love. An unplanned pregnancy (and miscarriage) forces them to make decisions they are not ready for, and the realistic ups and downs of their romantic relationship is stylistically rendered going back and forth in time. The theatre itself on George Square was small, hot and stuffy, which undoubtedly lessened our enthusiasm for the play. But the themes (how people we lose can shape who we become) also seemed a bit tired. But maybe we were just tired; fringe reviewers were generally enthusiastic.
After another stop at our favorite gin bar, we were ready for Sh!t Theatre’s 21) Evita Too. The performance artist duo Rebecca Biscuit and Louise Mothersole are well known for their writing heavily researched, clownishly acted, documentary and musical parodies, and political commentary–as well as for naked rollerskating. Here they offer “the greatest story never told of the first female president of a country in the history of the world,” whose name no one can remember, including waitresses in her own country. Seeking to make a musical better than Lloyd Weber’s Evita, they chase the story of Argentinian ruler Juan Perón’s third wife, former go-go dancer Isabel Perón. Unlike the popular Eva, Isabel went on to become president of Argentina for 18 (disastrous) months after Perón’s death and yet has been erased from mainstream history. We learn a few bizarre but historically accurate facts from the play, including these: 1) the Peróns kept the embalmed corpse of Eva in their Madrid home after she was returned to him, 2) thirty five years younger than her husband, Isabel underwent an occult ritual over Eva’s body to transfer her literal spirit and charisma into Isabel so she could succeed her, 3) she was notoriously manipulated by the right-wing, fascist advisor José López, an occultist called “the Wizard,” 4) after 18 chaotic months, she was overthrown by a coup, imprisoned for several years, and exiled back to Madrid where she is still living a reclusive life in her mid-90s. The sprawling musical Evita Too has everything you would expect from a musical, including catchy songs and threats from Lloyd Webber’s lawyer about the use of his material. Time Out says “‘There is truly nobody out there like Sh!t Theatre,” and our group would agree: a top show of this year’s Fringe. *****
Wednesday, Aug. 12: WHEW! Break day. St. Andrews and environs tour. . .
Except for Jenny, who saw three more performances: Cathy at the Traverse, a sweet but ultimately forgettable play starring Elaine C. Smith, a British TV sitcom star that drew in the audiences.
Then Glass Child, a play about a sister’s relationship with her younger brother, who is born with Down Syndrome.
The title derives from a psychological term used to describe the healthy siblings of children with chronic illnesses or special needs: “glass” because parental attention frequently bypasses them to focus on the child needing medical or developmental care—making the sibling feel completely looked through or invisible. The loving relationship that unfolds mostly through dance, which the two have engaged in since childhood. Now an adult who clearly visits the gym, the boy with Downs syndrome is not only an excellent dancer, but an expert gymnast. Intimate and compelling theatre. Last, Mark Thomas’s 40 Years of Stand-up at the Stand was hilarious and politically astute, as always. As he would say, grey-haired and left-winged, definitely his demographic. (I didn’t count this shows in our list).
Thurs, Aug. 13:
Our second day at the Traverse began with 22) Mrs. Stern wanders the Prussian State Library, based on Hannah Arendt’s 1933 arrest in Berlin by a young member of the Gestapo for, as the title suggests, wandering suspiciously in the library. Charged with copying and desseminating antisemitic material, Mrs. Stern eventually convinces the officer she is indeed innocent, merely a graduate student studying philosophy who needs to wander occasionally in order to think. She is not allowed to see her mother, also in prison, though we do not know the charge. The play is a timely and stark reminder of the way in which intellectual pursuits can be criminalized under authoritarian regimes. But it also suggests that an authentic connection between people on opposite sides of a political divide can at times be forged, since the officer helps her to escape in the end, putting both their lives in danger. As expected from Traverse shows, the acting was precise, the dialogue moving, and the subject matter politically relevant. Thumbs up from our group. **** Here is a video from a performance from last year:
The next show in the same space involves our twin Fringe motifs: physical holes and metaphorical miscarriages. In 23) Supposing, something happens to the Cassandra-like character Sally, an otherwise normal housewife, when she falls in a hole on High Street. Although not physically hurt, it seems everything has changed: she can see into the future, she can hear a 17 person chorus in her head, and as the myth suggests, no one quite believes her, even at times herself. Both the certainly, and the uncertainly, as to what will happen in the future is driving her crazy, and though her husband tries to accommodate her visions, he eventually gives up. Written by acclaimed political playwright Zinnie Harris (a former artistic director of the Traverse), the play poses the serious question of how exactly to respond to the political and social events of the present moment–since some of the consequences we can surely predict. Sally’s frequent references to pregnancies and miscarriages suggest there is a future, but an uncertain one. This often humorous, but ultimately dark play featured a minimalist set (a simple circle drawn on the floor) and excellent acting. Another win for the Traverse.
Expecting another strong play in Traverse One, our group was sorely disappointed in the 2.5 hour long 24) After Party. Given the unusual length of the play for this venue, its association with Paines Plough, and the venue’s general reputation (have I EVER seen a bad play at the Traverse?), the stunning mediocrity of this production was difficult to fathom. The plot involved a narcissistic matriarch and former actress who gathers her family together, ostensibly for her 80th birthday. But she then reveals the desire to end her life, with the support of a family that has not exactly been there for her in the past. The end-of-life theme is certainly not new, and even the poor actors who came out for a bow at the end of the play seemed to understand (facing an audience half the size after intermission) that this would not be one to remember. Always one dud in our program…
Dinner at Blackbirds…with a new menu!
Fri, Aug. 14:
With the morning free, Jenny attended the Ann Hardy exhibit, part of the International Festival in Talbot Rice museum–which was interesting (especially the live soundscape based on live weather data from Marfa TX!).
In the early afternoon, we were treated to the performer of 25) Delusions and Grandeur eating a sandwich and talking to us conversationally about having lunch. Was it part of the performance? Yes. When she re-entered the space it didn’t really matter. A highly trained cellist and comedian, Karen Hall treated us to a mix of masterful cello-playing (Bach’s Suite # 1 in G Major) and a humorous narrative that touched on the existential issues she faces as a highly trained musician who began her journey as a child: what are the psychological tolls of being a perfectionist, of feeling you have no identity or choices beyond being a cello player, or of living up to others’ expectations? The cello itself is her partner on the stage, a character in its own right. Although her understated comedy tended toward the self-deprecating, there were enough references to her skills as a cellist to remind us of the title, a riff on delusions of grandeur. A good way to start our morning. Video/interview with clips from another of the many fringes Karen has performed at this year.
After fighting the crowds on High Street, we finally found the venue for our next play, 26) Bigger, at Salle Emilienne Moreau-Evrard in the French Institute. There we saw an unusual dance piece by a large male who you would never mistake on the street for a dancer. With an “uncoventional body that defies the codes of dance,” Sofiane Chalal’s mix of hip hop and mime takes us through both the joys and the heartbreak of living in his large body, making a case for dance as an inclusive rather than an exclusive discipline. The intimate connection between audience and performer included a syncopated display of muscle control on the very potbelly that otherwise shames him, and an after-performance invitation to the audience to join him onstage for a short and joyful hip hop lesson. Reyes obliged! Below find a clip from the show we saw, performed in Fance.
Walking back down the always crowded Royal Mile (where we rarely find ourselves), the group met to see the National Scottish Theatre performance of 27) Through the Shortbread Tin at the Scottish Storytelling Center. Performed by Scottish poet Martin Macpherson, and accompanied throughout by a group of Gaelic singers, the tale begins in 1760 with the story of Scottish poet James Macpherson, whose fame rests on the “translation” of stories from third century Scottish bard Ossian. Wildly popular at the time, the play asks whether or not the entire Tartan project was based on deceit, and whether or not the familiar gift-shop trinkets since associated with Scotland hold the nation back or rightly celebrate its history. Performed in Scots, it took a while for us to accustom our ears to the accent, but it was well worth the effort. A masterful and humorous performance, complete with beautiful, haunting songs.
Despite a long day (and for some, a nap!) we all gathered back to see the gig musical 28) The Singer at 9:15pm. The story is based on the unlikely connection between Andy, a washed-up busker seeking a comeback, and Joe, a BSL speaker who both hears and sings with his hands–and also writes beautiful lyrics. The collaboration between the two begins on the street, moves to Joe’s house, and then abruptly ends when Andy disappears (using Joe’s song without his permission) while Joe faces his own apparent betrayal of the deaf “singing” community he leads by agreeing to perform for hearing audiences. Ultimately a joyful reaffirmation of music overcoming physical differences: and the audience is treated to a BSL lesson in the middle of the play so we can sing along with Joe when he takes the stage. Worth waking up for.
Sat, Aug. 15
After exploring the Saturday Farmer’s Market in the Traverse parking lot, we met for an early morning (10:30am…) showing of another top pick of the Fringe: 29) For Delores in Traverse 2. The stunning play by Eva O’Connor, produced by Fishamble Theatre Company, stars Catriona Faint as Mo–a loud, politically active, working-class Glaswegian–and Lara McDonnell as Réaltín, the more
restrained, middle-class girl from Dublin. 
After the intense and heady friendship of their partying Edinburgh student days, the two’s close friendship is sorely tested by tragedy and a series of mistakes that results in a child that the two women, never romantic partners despite their obsessive connection, are trying to raise. The play begins in what seems to be a therapist’s office, and unwinds in flashbacks that are by turns highly entertaining and emotionally heartbreaking. Riveting theatre by two incredible actors and a highlight of our tour! *****
The rest of the day, our group took a break to prepare for the 5-hour production of 30) Angels in America by a Dutch Company at the newly renovated King’s Theatre (conveniently located just down the street from our house). But a day before the production we found out that the International Festival (EIF) play was in Dutch, with subtitles–a barrier to its enjoyment for those who had not seen it before. (Imagine the loquacious Kushner dialogue on subtitles in a speeded-up version of his play–it was indeed not easy to keep up.) While half of our group left at intermission, those who stayed were treated to a spectacular Roy Cohn death scene that was better than earlier versions. The production values of the play were extraordinarily high, as we might expect from an EIF performance, and for those who could follow it all, a thrill.
Sun, Aug. 16:
Hard to believe we have only two more days! This morning we ventured out to Zoo Southside Main Hall for 31) Flesh, a fortunate addition to our original itinerary–thanks to our sister student group. The appropriately named Belgian production company Still Life presented four separate visual, non-verbal scenarois: 1) a man meticulously covers himself with PPE and hand sanitizer to visit his dying father, a realistic looking, life-sized puppet. When he hears a message, he clumsily untapes himself, only to miss the moment of passing by looking at his phone. Funny, and sad. b) A couple celebrates an anniversary with champagne after the man has undergone facial surgery. As he unrolls the bandages, the audience sees a rather horrifying result. Although the man believes he is beautiful, his wife accidentally puts her hand through his putty-like cheekbone, and the resulting action to fix the problem only makes things worse. Hilarious and horrifying. c) a woman pays for a virtual reality experience, choosing to play the lead in Titanic. Miming the highpoints of the film, including scenes involving sex and death, the attendant looks discreetly away or tries to keep her from bumping into walls. Physical comedy at its best! d) Four siblings solemnly meet after their mother’s funeral with the Urn on a table in front of them. Sibling rivalry then gradually resurfaces over how the ashes are distributed, eventually devolving into chaos and flying ash. This dark burlesque of intense physical experiences maps human flesh from many angles. We loved it. ****
Our next show was 32) In the Black by Ghanaian-American actor and playwright Quaz Degraft, who, in stand-up format, tells the tale of his own rise as an accountant on Wall Street. Navigating intense family expectations, pressures at work, and romantic relationships, he shows us exactly what level of amorality it takes to get a seat at the table of Wall Street Finance. When he witnesses his girlfriend being accosted in the boss’s office, he promises to testify against him; be he caves to the advancements offered for him to remain silent. 
The happy ending, though, is that he not only quits his job and becomes an artist, but goes back and reports that he perjured himself in his court testimony. Which is why the play is performed in an organe jumpsuit. Quaz is indeed a rising star–an excellent performance in a tiny venue. We’ll look for him next year.
33) Copycat was a good idea, a political one-man show about the links between art, fascism, and rapid technological innovation (AI), but ultimately it was a bit hard to follow. Here’s what AI reminded me of: “The show opens with a showcase of quickfire, uncanny voice impressions ranging from Lord of the Rings characters and Arnold Schwarzenegger to Kermit the Frog and modern politicians. Joe Sellman-Leava uses this performance skill to explore the etymology of imitation, examining how humans naturally learn through copying.” Ok, I remember now. Then he moves to his drama teacher, who taught him to say hello using just his eyes, and finally to the issues of how a performer or artist is to survive in a world of deepfakes and digital replication. The set is used throughout the show as a digital workspace, which is helpful, but by the end somewhat overwhelming. As I said, a good idea. . .
While one of us went off to see Thunderstruck at the Scottish Storytelling Center, a group favorite over the last two years, the rest saw the International Festival performance 34) 4 walls and a Roof by Lebanese duo Lina Majdalanie and Rabih Mroué. The two moved to Berlin from Lebanon ten years ago, so the theme of exile and the rise of the far right is center stage. Yet if you are familiar with the testimony of Bertolt Brecht before HUAC in the 1950s, and you know about Brecht’s own artistic practice and his influence as a political playwright, then the play probably wouldn’t offer anything that you don’t already know. However, the subject matter–the importance of political theatre that engages and activates its audience, stands up to fascism, and draws attention to the repression of free speech in an authoritarian state–could not be more relevant. 
The production uses a Brechtian cut-up style, often speaking directly to the audience, and was accompanied by a pianist playing Hans Eisler’s music to Brecht’s pointed poetry (translated for the audience on the back wall). This was a show that meant more to people being introduced to the subject matter than to those for whom Brecht has been a subject of study.
Mon, Aug. 17:
On our last day in Edinburgh, we caught a morning show by the Scottish local Elsa McTaggert, a singer-songwriter-fiddler recommended to us by two former participants in our Fringe tour. This year, 35) Elsa McTaggart: Capturing the Light was supported by Creative Scotland, for good reason. The 50-minute play focuses on Elsa’s grandfather, William McTaggart, the third child of Gaelic-speaking crofters who became one of Scotland’s most celebrated artists. Elsa traces the difficulties faced by her grandfather in his life, as well as his legacy and influence, on herself and the broader art world. A gentle, informal play that was a lovely start to the day.
Our group spent the rest of the day at craft fairs, last-minute charity shop shopping (yes, quite a thing in Edinburgh), and catching up on sleep (Jenny and Jim spend the entire night in the emergency room for what turned out not to be an emergency at all). After passing by 36) Lady Boys of Bangkok tent outside the Sheraton for four years in a row, I agreed that we should perhaps have a look. What we thought would be a drag show, however, was not–rather, The Full Moon Tour is a fast-paced cabaret revue that includes some transgender performers and a lot of sexy women in skimpy costumes. They lip sync popular songs, engage in a few comedy bits, do Las Vegas showgirl routines, and try very hard to engage their audience. Unfortunately for them, the 4:30 show we attended included mostly an older (maybe elderly?) demographic, so they had to work hard to get people “pumped.” One of our group left because packing seemed more interesting, and others suffered through to the end. But at least now we know what goes on in that gaudy tent across from the Traverse with the line winding around the block!
Our final dinner, for the second year in a row, was at DINE above Traverse Theatre. The food was delicious and it was fun deciding on the top hits of the Fringe. We were in surprising agreement this year.
Our final show was back at Queen’s Theatre, which we managed to bus and Uber to in the rain–the first of our entire two weeks! Here, 37) Daniel Kitson opened his new show, Thrum. Kitson is a mainstay of the Edinburgh Fringe–I think I’ve seen his work at least 10 times over the years–an engaging and innovative stand up comedian who has changed the nature of the discipline in the Uk, a fact that he reminds his audience of often. He also reminds us of his “courage” since he has a stutter (which only occasionally surfaces in an unexpected way). Eschewing film and publication, Kitson celebrates the ephemeral nature of live performance in self-referential, usually autobigraphical, narratives that depend on the astute observation of quotidian life and often takes aim at ubiquitous social irritants, and at times his own fanbase. This piece merges the genre of pure stand-up with theatrical storytelling, and is complete with Kitson’s rather brilliant ad-libbing. Although most of the performance feels like an episodic listing of one thing after another, with no apparent relation to each other, everything gets repeated with a difference, and somehow things come together in the end. One of the funniest bits this year was his imitation of the mild, “i don’t want to be rude” beep of a smoke alarm that needs new batteries, which by the end of the show is screaming at the top of its lungs to be changed. Unfortunately, the venue was huge this year, and it was often difficult to hear, much less to understand, Kitson’s very fast paced and accented performance. But whatever made it through was priceless. Here’s a short clip of Kitson at the beginning of his career, over 10 years ago…you can get a taste.