IN CONVERSATION WITH: Sam Nicoresti

We sat down for an exclusive chat with Sam Nicoresti ahead of their show Baby Doomer heading to Pleasance during the Edinburgh Fringe – 30th July – 24th August. Tickets here.


Can you summarise your show in two lines?

 It’s a stand-up show, which I’ve never done before, where I just talk and nothing weird happens in the room – for me, that’s the big concept. It’s also about skirt suits, and change, and how those two topics interact across a variety of routines.

The show tackles mental health, identity, breakdowns, joy, and weird propositions at a sperm bank – how do you strike that balance between vulnerability and absurdity when exploring so many different topics?

Being vulnerable is absurd, and visa versa. There are no points in the show where I try and manufacture a moment of catharsis or whatever, if something resonates emotionally it’s a good thing, but I’m not seeking it. These are just thoughts and stories that I’m attempting to weave together and hopefully a tone emerges by the end.

Was there a particular story or moment in Baby Doomer that felt hardest to tell – but most important to include?

Honestly, if something was hard to tell I tended to remove it. Some of the most embarrassing stories just flowed out, and generally I was finding that if something was hard to tell then that resistance was coming from not wanting to place it in front of an audience. I wanted to make a comedy show, so I’ve been pretty harsh on my natural tendency to indulge. Having said that, there’s a bit about Sméagol and a bit about chosen names that I keep trying to make work against the odds. I’m convinced those bits are worthy.

You’ve done everything from cult comedy nights to viral monologues – how do those different spaces influence your writing and performance?

Ha, it’s a viral monologue now is it? That clip (I assume you’re referring to the wagamama loos) is the sort of “45-minute mark crux” of my last show, I posted it out of context in light of the recent Supreme Court rulings because it kind of summed something up about the whole thing, but it exists within a context of an orchestrated recording of a full piece of work. I suppose those two things, a show and a gig, have tension. I would never do that bit at a gig, because that’s a shared space and the audience aren’t going to emotionally indulge you like that. A show is your world, and you can spend more time on ideas, which is rewarding, but a gig will establish which parts of an idea are actually funny. I used to write show-first, but with Baby Doomer a lot of the ideas emerged from having fun at gigs.

What’s one thing you wish more people understood about navigating breakdowns – not just personally, but artistically?

The breakdown isn’t such a huge part of the show anymore, because it was weighing things down. Maybe there’s a lesson there? Dissociation can feel terrifying, and it brings into question some fundamentals about who you are, what you are, what any of this is… the important thing is to find your thread and rebuild your narrative because that’s the core of who you are, outside of this sort of constantly moving moment. You have to embrace change without letting it pull you off centre. Same for the show. I’m not forcing it to be about something it doesn’t want to be about. I’m telling stories and allowing the ideas to emerge.

What’s the most memorable response someone’s given to Wokeflake or Baby Doomer?

I’ve had some pretty cool messages about Wokeflake. I wanted that show to capture some of the feelings of early transition, when everything feels so unresolvable and huge, and I think people have resonated with that. But mostly I remember when a woman coming out of the show in Edinburgh casually mentioned we had the same last name before disappearing into the crowd. Well, Nicoresti is an uncommon name and I’ve never met anyone with it that I’m not related to, so I think about that woman a lot. Who the hell was she?

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Holly Spillar

We sat down for an exclusive chat with Holly Spillar ahead of her show Tall Child heading to Underbelly Bristo Square during the Edinburgh Fringe – 30th July – 24th August. Tickets available here.


Can you summarise your show in two lines?
A show made on minimum wage with maximum rage.
It’s a silly, sing-songy show, about how I can’t afford to be silly and sing-songy anymore.

After the success of HOLE, what was the spark that made this the story you wanted to tell next?
I was working a rubbish minimum wage job full time, while trying to write a second show and work out how I was going to afford to do anything with it.
It felt like an impossible task and that made me angry enough that I started writing about it.

What do you wish more people understood about what it takes to make work as a working-class artist?
When you’re making art alongside a full time, low pay ‘normal’ job, that art can’t be measured up against people who have had time off to write a show. Creative industries don’t see working class people, they just see ‘incompetence’ when they measure our work up against artists with money and time. Because there’s a lack of working class people in creative industries, there’s a lack of empathy towards the way low income artists have to make work. The attitude is very much “If you loved it (making art) you’d find the money”.

What’s been the most validating moment for you during this process – something that reminded you it’s all worth it?
I got the keep it fringe fund! Which halved the amount of money I was going to have to find/borrow. We need more bursaries for low income background artists!!

You use a loop pedal in your set – how did you first start experimenting with that sound?
At uni I got the maximum loan (ka-ching!) and a termly bursary of £250 (double Ka-ching!). I loved Grimes at the time and would obsessively watch a video of her playing music on a rooftop in Mexico. I desperately wanted all the equipment she had, so I paused the video and googled everything I could see her using. The cheapest thing was my loop pedal, a £250 BOSS VE 20. I’ve used it for EVERYTHING ever since.

What would teenage you make of what you’re doing now?
Teenage me would be gutted I wasn’t making money from performing and even more gutted that I worked in retail and childcare.
BUT I think she’d like some of my songs, if nothing else. Bless her.

FEATURE: Launch of The Royal Lyceum 25/26 

The Royal Lyceum Launches 2025/26 Season, Celebrating Sixty Years of Theatre in Edinburgh


The Royal Lyceum has unveiled its 2025/26 season, marking sixty seasons of theatrical excellence with an ambitious and eclectic mix of genres and eras. This landmark season also serves as the debut offering from the Lyceum’s new Artistic Director, James Brining, and promises a diverse, collaborative programme rooted in quality and creativity.

Attendees of the launch event were treated to a panel featuring representatives from the theatre’s in-house productions, offering exclusive behind-the-scenes insights into the curation of what is shaping up to be a bold and engaging season.

The programme opens powerfully with Apphia Campbell’s acclaimed Black is the Color of My Voice—a moving exploration of the life of Nina Simone and the woman behind the music. Originally written during Campbell’s six-year teaching tenure in Shanghai, the piece has resonated with audiences worldwide. “It connects with every audience member differently,” she shared. The evening concluded with a stirring musical performance from the production, offering a tantalising preview of what’s to come.

Brining, himself, will take the directorial reins for The Seagull, describing the Chekhov classic as a “play about theatre” that continues to fascinate and challenge audiences. His adaptation promises period authenticity while drawing out the text’s humour and emotional depth. Following this, The Glass Menagerie—a co-production with Dundee Rep and the Citizens Theatre—will bring a fresh vision to Tennessee Williams’ masterpiece under the direction of Andrew Panton. Informed by discussions around accessibility and featuring a whimsically imagined physical world, this reimagining aims to captivate both seasoned theatre-goers and new audiences alike.

Closing out the year and ushering in the festive season will be Cinderella: A Fairytale, directed by Jemima Levick. Promising a magical experience “for six-year-olds and ninety-six-year-olds,” Levick emphasised the importance of the show within the theatre’s year: “It’s not just about growing up—it’s about the human condition.” As the season’s longest-running production, Cinderella is poised to be a highlight for families and festive theatre fans.

A major draw of the season is the world premiere of One Day, a brand-new musical adaptation of David Nicholls’ beloved novel. After the bestselling book and two screen adaptations, Edinburgh will finally see Dex and Em’s story return home—in musical form. The Lyceum will undergo a full seating reconfiguration to create an immersive experience, and with demand expected to be high, Brining strongly advised early booking for what is likely to be a standout event of the season.

Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Lynn Nottage’s Sweat is slated to follow, offering a powerful and timely commentary on identity, race, economics, and politics in working-class Pennsylvania—the very conditions that shaped Trump-era America. “It’s a play in a moment that talks about a whole culture,” noted playwright and panellist Zinnie Harris. While tonally distinct from other offerings, Sweat is expected to deliver a poignant and resonant finale—pending the announcement of a possible additional production.

Complementing the main programme are four visiting productions and several one-night-only performances, ensuring there’s something for everyone. The Lyceum is also set to expand its reach through the Lyceum at Home initiative, which aims to bring high-quality theatre directly to communities across all seventeen wards of Edinburgh.

Brining’s debut season casts a wide net, with a clear intent to “present works of the highest quality that appeal to the greatest number of people.” In an era of uncertainty for the arts, this bold and inclusive vision may be just what is needed to reinvigorate professional theatre in Scotland’s capital.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Samia Rida

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Samia Rida ahead of their show Kidnap at the Edinburgh Fringe. Directed by the BBC’s Gareth Edwards and produced by BAFTA Elevate producer Gina Lyons, writer and actor Samia Rida’s blazing autobiographical comedy-drama explores Saudi, family, and how the act of kidnap can involve a swimming pool… Samia Rida: Kidnap tickets available here


It’s nice to meet you, Samia. Tell us about your upcoming Fringe show Samia Rida: Kidnap

Nice to meet you too! Kidnap is my one woman, sixty-minute show based on the true story of my kidnap to Saudi when I was a child. It’s a comedy! Don’t worry – I was kidnapped by my dad and he’s from Saudi. He didn’t just throw a dart at a globe when deciding where to kidnap us. 

It’s directed by Gareth Edwards (Spaced, That Mitchell & Webb Look) and is a dark, challenging and funny exploration of multiculturalism, domestic abuse, having a disabled sibling, Saudi and how kidnap can involve a swimming pool.

Was the creation process for the show like? Have you enjoyed collaborating with the BBC’s Gareth Edwards and BAFTA Elevate producer Gina Lyons on the work?

I started writing the one woman show after finding a newspaper cutting that reported on my kidnapping. The script I wrote got picked up by a Producer at Fullwell 73 Production company (behind Mammals and The Kardashians) who wanted to develop it into a TV series – so that took quite a lot of my time, and I stopped developing it as a one woman show for a while. Then I picked it up again and it got to the interview stage of the BBC Comedy Collective Bursary, and they continued to support me with the project. I then asked Gareth Edwards, who I’ve had a relationship with and has mentored me for a long time, and who has developed series ideas with me and took one idea of mine forward to ask the BBC to commission it, and asked him if he was interested in directing it, and he was. I then started workshopping sections of the show and building it into the kind of three part structure it is right now – which is pre-kidnap, kidnap and post kidnap.

He’s just finished producing a new sketch show for Channel 4 starring David Mitchell and Robert Webb! I really enjoyed working with Gareth. He’s been such a support to me for many, many years now and it was really fun to be directed by him and work on the show together. I met Gina through BBC Comedy Collective and she’s also been a massive support in taking Kidnap forward. She introduced me to the team at Gilded Balloon and also told me about the Keep It Fringe fun, which I was successful in receiving.

If you could describe Kidnap to audiences in one sentence, what would you say? 

Kidnap, not all bad, can involve a swimming pool.

What would you like Edinburgh Fringe audiences to take away from the show as a primary message or experience? 

As with anything I work on, I really want to reassure audiences that they’re not alone and encourage us all to look at our dark sides and at the complexity in life, and in ourselves, and to embrace it all. I’d also like to give audiences permission to laugh, even at the most difficult things, and that show them healing can really be found that way. 

Kidnap is supported by the charity Sibs. How has it felt to work with them? 

I was in some ways a young carer, helping to look after my older brother who is disabled. When I first discovered the charity Sibs, it was incredible to talk to other people who also had disabled siblings, and who would talk really quite openly and candidly about the difficulties involved and even the resentment that could come up around this. We all really loved and supported our disabled siblings, but we did sacrifice and carry a lot on our shoulders and had a very unique experience. I really would love to continue to support this charity and to shine a light on this experience which affects so many people in a profound manner and I feel isn’t really discussed much.

Finally, when and where can we see your show? 

You can see my show at Gilded Balloon, Patter House, from July 30th – August 10 at 19:15. 

REVIEW: Restless Natives


Rating: 3 out of 5.

“Robbery, Romance, and Rainy Glens: Restless Natives Steals the Show”


The Clown and the Wolfman have returned — not to the big screen, but to the stage. Premiering this weekend at Edinburgh’s Leith Theatre, Restless Natives: The Musical is a heartfelt, nostalgic tribute to the cult 1985 film that captured a generation’s disaffection with Thatcher’s Britain. While it earns points for ambition and charm, the show struggles to maintain momentum, ultimately feeling a little overlong and overly sincere.

The story follows best friends Ronnie(Kyle Gardiner) and Will(Finlay McKillop), two working-class teens from Edinburgh who find themselves trapped by limited prospects. In a bid to make a name for themselves — and shake off a deep sense of invisibility — they turn to crime. But not just any crime. Dressed as a clown and a wolfman, they begin robbing tourist buses in the Highlands, redistributing the wealth (accidentally or otherwise) to their local community. What could have been a bleak tale of youth gone awry becomes instead a tale of modern-day Robin Hoods with punk hearts and a cheeky streak.

The stage adaptation leans heavily into the original movies themes of rebellion and underdog defiance, with a romantic subplot and a slew of new musical numbers that are both a blessing and a curse. Some songs sparkle — particularly the Act II opener It’s Good to Be Bad, a riotous ensemble number full of panto-like glee, complete with standout solos from Caroline Deyga and Harry Ward. It’s one of the rare moments where the show embraces silliness with both hands, and it pays off in laughter and energy.

Deyga, who juggles several supporting roles, is a comic highlight throughout, injecting some much-needed levity into a production that otherwise teeters on the edge of being overly earnest. Harry Ward also impresses, notably in his dual roles as Will’s exasperated father and the trigger-happy villain, Nigel. Their performances bring texture and humour to a show that too often feels weighed down by its own good intentions.

Where the musical falters is in pacing. Both acts suffer from a sluggish rhythm, with too many songs packed closely together, many of which tread similar musical and emotional ground. The melodies are pleasant but largely indistinct, and the sheer volume of numbers stretches the original film’s tight 90-minute runtime into something far more drawn-out. In trying to expand the scope, the show loses some of the film’s sharp wit and narrative drive.

The love story between Will (Finlay McKillop) and tour guide Margot (Kirsty MacLaren) adds emotional depth, but it occasionally overshadows the show’s more compelling commentary on youth disenfranchisement, economic despair, and national identity. These themes are present, but diluted.

Visually, the production captures the spirit of Scotland well. A smartly designed set conjures winding Highland roads and brooding skies, with road signs and grey backdrops evoking the bleak romance of the Scottish landscape. A standout moment comes when fake money rains over the audience — a delightfully theatrical reminder of the boys’ accidental philanthropy.

Ultimately, Restless Natives: The Musical is an endearing, if uneven, stage debut. With sharper editing and a touch more irreverence, it could find the same cult following its source material did. For now, it’s a charming ride — just not always a smooth one. Restless Natives plays until 21st June at Leith Theatre and tickets are available here.

REVIEW: LEAR at Traverse Theatre


Rating: 3 out of 5.

“An excellent idea – but not much more”


On its surface, the idea to adapt the work of Shakespear into a dialogue-less mime, is a brilliant one. The story of King Lear is one that has been told thousands of times in thousands of ways, which surely makes adapting it again a daunting undertaking. Ramesh Meyyappan rises to this challenge by reducing the story all the way down to its bare essentials – which may work better in concept than in practice.

Lear is an adaptation more of the themes and spirit of the original play rather than the actual events of the text. It plays out as a series of mimed situations as the titular Lear returns from war and struggles to connect with his family again. Repeatedly Lear breaks down and lashes out and must be comforted by the three women around him. Though this cycle is at one point broken by a long sequence where Lear puts on what I can only describe as a comedy hat, which ends up being a moment of delightful respite from the usual repeating motif.

At its best this continual simulacra of a life plays out like a strange trap Lear has found himself caught in. Probably the best moments of the play for me are the few moments when Lear seems to look around and realise that this isn’t his life at all, it’s just a surreal play. When Ramesh Meyyappan steps to the front of the stage to look into the audience with a confused bewilderment he has an excellent quality of making you think that he’s looking at you, personally. Lear’s sympathy is expertly created in these moments, as you look down at this broken man and know that you’re unable to help him get out.

Unfortunately, after an hour of this, it begins to ring hollow. Though the set-ups get more dramatic and black confetti covers more of the stage, it doesn’t quite manage to ever elicit much more feeling. After the first three or four times you see Lear go from being with his family to cowering on the floor and then finally, once again, to violence, you don’t really feel a need to see it the next five or six times. It never quite gets so bad that it becomes boring but it does start to feel repetitive.

It’s worth noting that the repetitiveness of Lear is clearly a feature rather than a bug. And though I can see what it’s saying thematically, I’m not so sure that it’s making an interesting enough point to warrant the hit to the watchability.

Amongst this the ‘comedy hat’ segment begins to feel like an odd kind of masterpiece. It’s one of the few parts of the play that actually sticks out towards the end because it doesn’t seem to fit with everything going on around it. The music especially is never better than in this section – quickly switching between tones and drifting between funny and disturbing with perfect awareness. Sadly it comes just slightly too early for it to truly break up the repetitive nature of Lear.

REVIEW: The Mountaintop


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Deity and mundanity combine on MLK Jr’s last night alive


One thundery night in April 1968, Martin Luther King Jr stayed at a motel in Memphis. In Katori Hall’s play, The Mountaintop, he then discovers that by tomorrow, he will be dead.

What follows is a surreal and intense two-hander between King (played by Caleb Roberts) and Camae (played by Shannon Hayes) – who we discover is not merely the maid charged with bringing King his coffee and allowing him to flirt with her, but an angel, sent by God herself to prepare King for the end of his ministry. It mixes shades of Angels in America with Waiting for Godot, with an unapologetic exploration of issues within the Civil Rights movement, and King’s own private struggles. Katori Hall’s writing is sharp and as important today as it was in 2009, with Camae’s “if I were you preaching” speech ringing out boldly into the audience. Every time they speak each word is dripping with the weight of everything that has come before, and will come.

If the play does have a flaw, it lies in the transition between the mortal chatting between flawed hero and bright eyed young woman, and the surreal and holy conversations with an angel and indeed God. It lands a little clunkily, taking a while to find its rhythm and occasionally over-explaining to the audience what’s going on – mysticism is at its best when it doesn’t get bogged down by who had lunch with the original Martin Luther in Heaven’s canteen that day. However clunky the middle though, the finale was absolutely spell-binding theatre. King gives his final sermon, dragged off-stage by binding ropes before he truly finishes, with our angel reemerging with full wings to bring him home. The imagery is powerful and the performance from Roberts as King, a dying man begging to give his last words, was gut-wrenching to watch.

Roberts and Hayes are both incredibly engaging throughout the show, Hayes in particular relishing her humorous quips and her passionate speeches. Her push and pull between feeling impressed by King, sorry for him, and a little unnerved, further complicated by her revealing how she came to be charged with escorting King to the afterlife, stole the limelight even from such a great portrayal of the icon himself.

Hyemi Shin’s staging is a stand out in the production, becoming a third character that evolves with the story from a dingy motel room to a huge stone slab that turns King into a sacrificial lamb, stranded on his mountaintop as he sees visions of where his baton will be passed on to continue the fight. It’s delightfully tactile, with earth covering the front of the stage leading to dirty socks and a sense of staying grounded, even amongst the heavens. Composer and sound designer Pippa Murphy adds to this, combining the crashing thunder with eerie church organs punctuating King’s speech, never quite allowing the audience to settle but to ride the waves of fear and panic along with King.

The Mountaintop excels in these heightened moments of confronting mortality and deity, as much as its quiet humour shines in the mundanity of ordering coffee to your motel room, or calling your children to say good night. Hall’s play is a wonderful amalgamation of the two with plenty of room for discussion about what King’s legacy means to our world today.

FEATURE: TravFest25 – Where New Stories Start 


The Traverse Theatre’s festival programme for August – TravFest25 – was announced at a launch event at the theatre in Edinburgh, and promises to be a treasure chest of delights.  


The event was opened by Linda Crooks (CEO and Executive Producer) with a summary of the programme, and thanks to those who have helped support the Traverse. The 12 productions include 10 premieres, showcasing a range of talent, from homegrown in Scotland, Bristol, Ireland, to Canada and Melbourne, with artists covering themes of radicalisation, global conflict, family dynamics, in a way that unites us and our values. 

Three of these productions were discussed in a guest panel chaired by Susie Gray from Premier PR: “She’s Behind You” with director John Tiffany and writer and performer Johnny McKnight; “Standing In The Shadows of Giants” with Bryony Shanahan (director, and Traverse associate artist); and “A Gambler’s Guide to Dying” with director Gareth Nicholls (and Traverse artistic director). 

“She’s Behind You” is a reflection on Johnny’s life as a pantomime dame, through the eyes of Dorothy Blawna-Gale, and he and John explained how this was originally conceived as a Cameron Lecture, and the challenges of converting this to a show. Johnny spoke passionately about this has made him reflect on the changes that have been made over the last 20 years in Scotland, including the consideration of being implicit in the politics of the past and how things differ now, with the unique heart and joy that panto has in Scotland. John noted that there’s nowhere that takes, and holds on to, the anarchic subversive art form of the pantomime like Scotland. 

We moved on to hear about “Standing In the Shadows of Giants” with Bryony Shanahan, which is the autobiographical story of Lucie Barât, and how her own journey of personal discovery whilst her brother, Carl, and his ‘strange little friend’ (aka Pete Doherty) hit rock-stardom as The Libertines. Bryony described it as funny, and honest, and although likely to attract attention with her proximity to the band, it’s very much her own voice and story, with reflections on relationships, gender expectations, her life, her art, as well as addiction and abuse. 

The final show discussed was “A Gambler’s Guide to Dying”, which is celebrating it’s 10th anniversary, having been toured worldwide since its original premiere at the Traverse in 2015. Written and performed by Gary McNair, we were shown a pre-recorded prologue of the show – being Gary’s reflections as a child, and now, of his grandfather, who bet on England winning the World Cup in 1966, and then on defying cancer long enough to see in 2000. Gareth spoke about how much they were looking forward to revisiting the original script together and seeing how 2015 and 2025 versions of Gary may feel. 

The panel went on to discuss some of their formative experiences with performing at the Fringe, the importance of its ecology, with Bryony extolling the quality and integrity of work being held by Traverse.  The place of the Traverse as Scotland’s theatre for new writing was also touched upon, with John describing it as vital to the lifeblood of theatre. The benefits (and perhaps perils) of personal and professional relationships formed in the Traverse Bar afterwards were also discussed! This could be surmised as more than just a venue, it’s a place for likeminded people and community, without the forced nature of ‘networking’, with Johnny describing it as a place for anarchy, joy and stories above all else.  

At the close of the panel, we were treated to a short but dynamic performance from Johnny, reflecting on his first panto experience in 1985, with Johnny Beattie in Ayr’s Gaiety Theatre, as the fourth wall was broken and he realised that not only do you see panto, but the interaction with the crowd means that panto also sees you… 

It should also be mentioned that tonight’s event included BSL interpreting from Chloe and Ben, and particular kudos to Ben for interpreting Johnny’s performance with evident enthusiasm. 

With tickets on sale now, and a tantalising tease from Susie that there is more still to be announced for the Festival, based on the sneak peek tonight, those looking for quality new writing and productions should keep TravFest firmly in their sights. 

Traverse Festival runs from Friday 25 July – Sunday 24 August 2025

Full programme and booking: https://www.traverse.co.uk/whats-on/travfest-25

REVIEW: The Ultimate Classic Rock Show


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A night of epic guitar solos and legendary rock hits from the comfort of a theatre seat”


The Festival Theatre spent this past Sunday evening playing host to a tribute that boasts of being one of the UK’s best. The Ultimate Classic Rock Show promises a night of “stunning accuracy, high energy” and an “incredible light and projection show” while delivering approximately 2 hours of classic rock anthems. This show struck a more personal note, and brought up a lot of questions, so I hope you don’t mind humoring some thoughts from a 27 year old rock lover. 

This tribute is a well-oiled machine from head to toe. It delivers what it promises, solid on all fronts and is professional to a tee. On stage we are entertained by the antics and prowess from a band of musicians who wear the heavy crown of dealing out some of the most well known music in recent history and representing the iconic personas that come swaggering along with it. Pablo Roberts Morales, Garath Kedward and Rhys Roberts took up bass, keyboard/synths and drums respectively, while Luke Bradshaw and Andy Park traded off riffs and licks from an impressive display of guitars. Rory Bridgeman and Sammi Broad were our talented and charismatic fronting vocalists. 

As this is a tribute to a genre rather than a solo band/ artist, the audience were greeted with anthem after anthem from Queen to Fleetwood Mac to AC/DC to Deep Purple to Hendrix etc… the kind of names that would reach you even if you lived under a rock (those of us who are passionate about the genre are already well situated under said ‘rock’).  The band as a whole were technically incredible, note perfect and true to the original recordings rendition. For its production value, the bang for your buck is worth it with the quality of both lighting and sound at an impressively high level and the overall mix, especially for the drums and guitar, being some of the best I’ve experienced recently. We are also kept visually stimulated by an additional projection above the stage showing the names, symbols, pictures or moving caricatures for each individual band as the music shifts. The bandmates were natural comedians, engaging with the audience and with each other making what could be completely scripted jokes and beats seem genuine and spontaneous. Sammi Broad in particular has great charisma, stage presence and comedic timing as well as the ability to be an absolute menace with a cowbell. It was light and fun, wrapped up in some great rock songs.

Make no mistake this was a great show, however I was struck, during and after the fact, with the question: why does it not feel…right? 

I now proceed briefly from a more personal and inquisitive stance. I think the venue had the biggest impact on how this act was perceived. Theaters, especially our lovely Festival Theater, are safe, controlled and accommodating, and have very comfortable seats right up to the stage. This is a great thing, however I think it is safe to say, none of these descriptions have ever existed close to the idea of rock and roll. Being seated, having volumes at the ‘perfect’ levels, the performers well manicured and in mostly simple black clothing, well, it’s rock music but it’s clean and it’s comfortable, disconnected from its rebellious, rowdy, glamorous yet disheveled soul. It’s a choice and there is always compromise. I would be very interested to see it roughened up a bit and in a different space, I think it would really encourage the audience energy…but I am aware of my youthful knees. 

This show was a great way to watch epic guitar solos, sing along to legendary lyrics and get a glimpse into how iconic bands may have performed the music that continues to shape our playlists today. I recommend it to people who would rather the comfort of a theater performance than that of the volatile experience of a rock and roll concert, but be aware, it may leave you a little wanting.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Poppy Burton-Morgan


We sat down for a chat with Poppy Burton-Morgan about her latest project


What was the transition like from poetry pamphlet to full stage performance? 

Well, it’s been a gradual and joyously iterative process. The show really started life as a single performed poem – the title poem ‘Explaining Being Pan to Nan’ which I read, at the very last minute having been suddenly offered an open mic slot, at a poetry night in Frome in October 2024. Then I realised there were a few more things to be potentially explained to Nan, and for her to explain to me… so by the end of the year I’d written the entire pamphlet.

Then in January I had the great pleasure of performing a 10 minute slot at The Glitch in Waterloo, which is now my London venue for the full tour. As a predominantly queer space celebrating queer artists I thought I’d share 10 minutes of the Explaining poems (rather than my nature poems or my complaining-about-parenting poems – those being my other main poetic themes) and it was so well received that in February I decided, very much on a whim to turn it all into a show. Now we’re in June and the shows about to open (back in Frome where it all started only 8 months ago) so it’s been pretty whirlwind. But I’ve had lots of headline poetry gigs over the spring so I’ve been testing the individual poems in front of audiences and rewriting as I go. 

Of course preparing the pamphlet for publication and last minute edits on the manuscript has also fed back into the performance. Obviously there are some nuances of tone that you can only communicate through performance but similarly or conversely the formatting of the text on the page, the choice of punctuation, the placement of line endings – that also communicates something that can’t necessarily expressed in performance. There are also more poems in the pamphlet – I’ve kept back the trauma ones to live solely in the book. So that’ll be fun for all my readers!

Were there any surprises in how the material evolved?

Yes – I did not expect it to end up so tender. Although I shouldn’t really be surprised by that, because the majority of my writing, which historically has been musical theatre and opera, is absolutely characterised by its heart.

I also didn’t actually realise the poems were as funny as (certainly some) people find them until I started performing them aloud. So then I rewrote them, leaning into those comic rhythms (which generally meant moving punchlines from the middle to the end of the line) – it’s a particular thing writing ‘funny’, it’s like writing music in terms of the rhythm of a joke. 

Your Nan sounds amazing. Tell us a bit about her.

My Nan – well actually she was always known to us as Mutti, which is German for mother, because that’s what my mum and her siblings were raised to call her. I did consider calling the show ‘Explaining Nooky to Mutti’ but it needed too much contextualising, also as becomes clear in the show – she definitely doesn’t need straight up nooky explaining to her. In fact she ends up doing a decent amount of explaining to me! But what a woman. Iconic. Married at 18, 4 children by her mid twenties and then she decides in her 30s to go to university for the first time and ends up as an English professor. Married 4 times – an absolutely outrageous flirt – the younger the better. Actually the definition of a cougar. Wild, original and an icon. Rosemarie Morgan, Rosie to her friends. The whole show is dedicated to her.

What’s been the hardest part about staging something so personal? 

Learning the lines.

I literally have no shame around sharing this hugely personal autobiographical content – maybe it’s my autism and the classic autistic capacity for oversharing but I literally feel completely at ease telling a room full of strangers, or friends, found family or even blood-related family about my pegging dildo and my sexting exploits.

But having spent the last seventeen years working entirely as a writer and director the biggest challenge for me on this show is returning to performing and learning the lines. And it’s not even tge actual learning because I can learn them. I have learnt them. It’s the fear of not remembering the lines. I’ve literally gone back into therapy to overcome my performance-anxiety. So vulnerable making, this whole process. It’s really reaffirmed my compassion for actors who do this shit all the time. Put me back in the auditorium giving notes!!!

And what’s been the most rewarding?

The audience response literally makes me cry. As I establish in the show I’m a big cryer anyway, but as I’ve been testing out bits and bobs of material over the last 6 months I am repeatedly humbled and heartwarmed by the range of responses. I get tears of gratitude and laughter of recognition from the young (or older) queers seeing their experiences represented. I get people who just love the language – poetry audiences are really passionate about poetry (probably because poetry audiences are mostly made up of fellow poets). And then I get the people who’ve genuinely had their minds blown, like the softly spoken dapper gentleman who accosted me outside the loos after a performance to quietly tell me that he’d greatly enjoyed my set and learned a lot!

Has performing this show changed the way you think about your past relationships -or even your future ones?

Yes!!! I’ve realised, really retrospectively, that I’m soooo not fussed about all the kinky adventurous sex. I mean it was fun and it gave me some great material for the pamphlet and this show but I really just want someone to hold hands with. 

I also feel such affection for all the people I talk about in the show – all of whom (bar Tom the Dom*) I’m still friends with and have invited to see the show. In fact there are a few ex lovers that I’m now much more reconnected with because of doing this show (from me just checking in that they’re happy to be represented in it, albeit anonymously – because consent is everything!!!) So I would highly recommend creating an autobiographical poetry show about your previous lovers as a really effective way of making friends with exes. 

And for the record I am still currently available for holding hands and going for dim sum.

*I was going to meet Tom the Dom for dinner, dim sum, as it happens, but then he ghosted me. So his is the only ‘revenge poem’ in the show. But I think that’s fair enough and let it be a warning to ghosting fuckbois everywhere. Also Tom, if you ever read this – you still owe me dim sum.

EXPLAINING BEING PAN TO NAN tours the UK from June 18th to October 2nd.