REVIEW: FAUSTUS IN AFRICA!


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“An ambitious exploration of the psychological confusion, chaos, and bile that take root in colonialism’s heart of darkness.”


After its premiere nearly thirty years ago, Handspring Puppet Company (War Horse, Little Amal) teams up with renowned artist and animator William Kentridge to remount a visually stunning reboot of Doctor Faustus.

In another triumph of form meeting function, one walks away from Faustus in Africa! wondering what else but puppetry and a restrung Elizabethan tragedy could have told this harrowing tale of colonialism, empire, and slavery. In this version, Faustus is a white South African (and a puppet) whose desire to live his life to the fullest leads him down a dark and winding safari of greed, corruption, and violence. The devil Mephistopheles, to whom Faustus has sold his soul in exchange for knowledge and power, is portrayed in human form by Wessel Pretorius – an ominous storytelling choice, given that all the other characters are puppets. The imagination does not have to go far in drawing a line between a human and the Devil himself. 

Combined with Handspring’s puppetry excellence and music by James Phillips & Warrick Sony, Kentridge’s animations simultaneously offer an aesthetically extraordinary treat and a horrifying creative representation of colonial violence. His erased charcoal animations effectively drive the story across the African continent. Images that often seem non-linear, random, and dreamlike lend this ambitious production the psychological underpinnings of confusion, chaos, and bile that take root in colonialism’s heart of darkness. In one animation, the typebar of a typewriter annihilates an elephant. In another, lines become bodies crammed in a slave ship. In a testament to the power of art to tell stories as dark as this one, Kentridge’s violent smudges subconsciously prime the audience to imagine a project as sickly as colonialism.

In retrospect, the scene that has stuck with me is oddly one of the first – when Faustus almost commits suicide. He believes that he has already achieved all there is to achieve, learned all there is to learn from his small human existence. He has somehow wound himself up to believe that there is nothing more for him to do on earth, no meaning left for him to discover. His solution to this problem is a colonial rampage through the African continent and a rape of the earth so brutal, it is almost too difficult to watch in the form of stylized, black and white animations. Viewed from this angle, it is not difficult to make the narrative leap from the 16th century German tale of a doctor who sells his soul for power to our society’s ongoing deal with the devil of colonialism.  Faustus in Africa! raises deeply disturbing questions about human nature, capitalism, and the lengths to which we’ve gone (and continue to go) to quench a thirst for meaning

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Faustus in Africa was a part of the 2025 Edinburgh International Festival and played until 23 August. Get tickets here: http://www.eif.co.uk/events/faustus-in-africa


REVIEW: Figures In Extinction


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Every once in a while, a work of art humbly steps onstage, regards its audience with all the grief in the world, and then utterly stretches what anyone thought theatre could be or do.”


Every once in a while, something humbly steps onstage, regards its audience with all the grief in the world, and then utterly stretches what anyone thought theatre could be or do. Something that gives you hope that the most human part of humans – not machines – will save us, if not physically, then spiritually. Something that shifts the innermost shade at the core of the soul, just enough to see something flickering and pulsing, reassuringly animal-like and universal, expertly and habitually sewn shut beneath the hem of the garment we call “daily life.” 

Just as Figures in Extinction perforates whatever standards we had for “good” theatre, so too does it challenge the very nature of a critic’s review. As I stare up from the base of this behemoth, it seems more fitting to write some poetry instead. But for now, I’ll stick to the form I know best and simply encourage anyone who sees it to let it spark their own imaginations in the way the piece clearly wants.

Figures in Extinction is the fruit of a multi-year collaboration between acclaimed Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite and Complicité founder and theatre legend Simon McBurney. Perched somewhere on the dance-theatre continuum, the piece is divided into three parts – the extinction of non-human beings, the troubling neuroscience of behavior, and human mortality. Performed by Nederlands Dans Theater, Figures transcends traditional climate communication, grinding the pages of heavy natural history textbooks and oblique science journals into new colors and sounds for new compositions and symphonies. In one breathtaking swoop, it elevates non-human beings to spectators and reduces humans to the scientific probings of a petri dish. Quite simply, it has created a new language with which to effectively articulate the nastiest of today’s truths: how humans have adapted to ignore the destruction we cause. 

There are ingenious details hidden in this piece that could only be unpacked in the span of a short novel – how the sound design actively takes advantage of the very neuroscience the show explains; how the set – an ever-shifting black frame mimics and manipulates the limited focus of a human brain; how the dancers tick so precisely in harmony with every beat and sigh of the aural landscape that everything feels reverently interconnected from the moment it begins. When a piece is this detailed, it vibrates. 

When I woke up the following morning, this piece was still with me. It was in the water I splashed on my face and ran through my hair. It was in the  coffee I drank as I tried to write. In the cheeps of birds bubbling up through the window, letting the world outside greet the one inside. Whatever NDT, Crystal Pite, and Simon McBurney have gifted us in this piece, it doesn’t feel like a tissue with which  to wipe our eyes. It feels like a reason for which to open them.

Figures in Extinction is a part of the 2025 Edinburgh International Festival and playing until 24 August. Get tickets here: http://www.eif.co.uk/events/figures-in-extinction


REVIEW: NOWHERE


Rating: 5 out of 5.

 On- and offstage collapse into each other for an hour and a half of theatre-(un)making at its finest.”


Khalid Abdalla’s Nowhere might not take place anywhere in particular, but it certainly happens in a theatre. Everything about the show – the cameras and projectors, the screens pulled open and closed, the house lighting that frequently exposes the audience – is a reminder that we are never, at any point, fools to the artifice of a playhouse. On- and offstage collapse into each other for an hour and a half of theatre-(un)making at its finest.

“It’s safe in here,” Abdalla begins. From the comfort of the theatre, he reminds us that there are many places in the world today where the ground on which people stand is not safe. It is from this boundary of security – between the world we all inhabit comfortably in the familiar darkness of the theatre and the real world just outside the ushered doors  – that Abdalla tells his story. 

In Nowhere, Abdalla delicately unspools the thread of his career as an activist, artist, friend, and son, picking glass out of wounds made by an increasingly violent and hopeless world. Virgil-like in the calm and humble eloquence with which he guides us down each level of hell, Abdalla proves that art still has a place (perhaps the most important one) in the most troubling of times. It can be a weapon, a salve, and, most importantly, a seedling of hope that even strangers can give one another.

Nowhere rips the veils of entertainment from our eyes, asking, How do we traverse the boundary between theatre and life? Between dream and reality? Between the individual and the collective? And what could art possibly do to help us? It turns out that, when guided by someone of Khalid Abdalla’s artistic caliber, art can do a lot.

At the very least, it can give us a “nowhere” – the only remaining place safe from any kind of claim to the land. It is an imagined space but also a tangibly shared one that comes into being when we invest in a ticket and sit side by side in the dark. It gives us an opportunity to gather regardless of belief and where most other places like it likely don’t exist.

I found myself reflecting on my grandfather – a Holocaust survivor who helped to run a theatre in his Polish ghetto before being transferred to a camp. He had needed to create his own Nowhere – a place he could gather people, transport them to a place of shared resistance, and cling to whatever dregs of hope remained. I have a feeling he would have liked Abdalla’s Nowhere. And if my own is as full of hope and possibility as either of theirs, then that’s where I’d like to plant my seeds of hope for the future too. That’s where I’ll continue to gather. 

On- and offstage collapse into each other for an hour and a half of theatre-(un)making at its finest.


Nowhere was a part of the 2025 Edinburgh Festival Fringe and played until 24 August. More info on tour dates and venues can be found here: https://fueltheatre.com/projects/nowhere


REVIEW: Pedro Leandro: Soft Animal 


Rating: 4 out of 5.

polished comedic debut of queer experience and beyond


Pedro Leandro’s debut hour starts with a moment of joint Fringe-weary prayer that results in us unexpectedly professing our love for him. A bold move, but one that becomes clear as we delve into his show.  It’s also an equally bold move for Pedro’s first anecdote about being perceived to be a top shagger in your teens, before embracing his sexuality. 

Pedro’s show circles around the central tenets of the search for validation and queerness. We cover topics from The Velvet Rage by Alan Downs, to relationships with exes, his father, the effects of negging, aromatherapy massage, the excusing of Alan Turing, mullets, and peer-pressure to watch The Wire, among many more. A particular favourite of mine was the explanation of ‘sit-down gays’ and their superior knowledge of the finer things in life (a new life aspiration: unlocked). The story-telling is well considered and at a measured pace – this is not a zippy one-liner set, but something much more considered.   

There’s a gorgeous bit of theatrical acting (surely destined for Donmar, no?) around the life of a salt-of-the-earth audience member, who doesn’t care that the Guardian called him magnetic, which twists and turns into a tale of unexpected drama.  There’s also smatterings of poetry and self-reflections of therapy, which all together might seem like one too many ingredients, and might be seen as a touch self-aggrandising for some, but the effect is undeniably charming. 

There’s a piquant archness to some of Pedro’s proclamations, which are incredibly enjoyable and combined with a conspiratorial note means I suddenly want to know his thoughts on so many topics. The audience tonight was smaller than on other nights (it has been sold out before), and so naturally some of the reactions were less animated than they would be with a full room, but the giggles were still flowing. The takedown of particular creatives are among my favourite sections – and the final scene brings this together in a particularly knowing and funny way. 

As the show ends, I want to spend more time in Pedro’s (magnetic) company. Let’s all take a trip together to that little patisserie on the corner (no, not Lannan, this one is far more chic) and gossip wildly. Alternatively, I know a darling little performance space at Pleasance, they call it Bunker 2. You should go. 

Pedro Leandro: Soft Animal runs to 24 August, at 20:10 at Pleasance Courtyard. Tickets can be bought from: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/pedro-leandro-soft-animal


REVIEW: As You Like It: A Radical Retelling


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Sure to excite”


*Spoilers Ahead*

What makes you want to buy a ticket to a show? What keeps you in your seat through to the end, even if you’re properly enraged? What is the contract you obligate yourself to when you scan your ticket, find your seat, and settle in?

There is no way to talk about Cliff Cardinal’s As You Like It: A Radical Retelling without utterly spoiling its very unique, very bold plot. That is something that can only be revealed to you should you decide to go (and can still get a ticket). Instead, it is perhaps far more productive to prepare those who do intend to go – if not in Edinburgh, where it is currently running as a part of the International Festival, then wherever Crow Theater decides to take it next – with questions to consider

For one: Of all the shows on offer in Edinburgh this summer, why did you decide to buy a ticket to a Shakespeare play?

There is nothing wrong with doing so – although, by the end, the audience definitely had some mixed feelings. I think I went because it promised to be a “radical retelling” of a well-known Shakesepare comedy from an Indigenous perspective. Not that we need yet another modernized Shakespeare play slapped into a contemporary context for no good reason other than to lazily make it “more accessible” or prove that it is still relevant. (It is still relevant, but not because we’re suddenly seeing modern garb instead of tights, guns, and corsets.) But an Indigenous reimagining of this Bardly staple sounded like something I’d never seen before. From this day forward, I will never walk into a Shakespeare production the same way again.

Ironically, the land acknowledgment – a practice more common in North America than here in the U.K. – outshone all the Shakespeare by leagues and bounds. Lakota actor and playwright Cliff Cardinal opened the show with a reflection on our relationship to the land and to each other, sharing how his Indigenous perspective shaped his approach to adapting a beloved classic of the Western canon. And while it was one of the longer land acknowledgements I’ve been witness to, it was worth every penny of the ticket price.

If you haven’t supported the work of an Indigenous artist recently, consider going to this mind-blowing take on Shakespeare’s arboreal, romantic jaunt. In a world in which the wealthy have every incentive to make the dark histories of all our daily spaces feel far away, unappealingly dusty,  and unimportant, it is vital that work like this is supported, programmed,  and shouted from the rooftops. It may not please everyone, but it is sure to excite.


As You Like It: A Radical Retelling is a part of the 2025 Edinburgh International Festival and playing until 23 August. Get tickets here: http://www.eif.co.uk/events/as-you-like-it-a-radical-retelling


REVIEW: Venus 2.0


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Stunning visual intensity in a dark contemporary style.


VENUS 2.0 follows the story of Mary Richardson, a suffragette who later became a fascist and leader of the women’s section of the British Union of Fascists. The name of the show comes from the actions of Mary as a suffragette, when she vandalised Velázquez’s painting, The Rokeby Venus, at London’s National Gallery (the same painting that was targeted by environmental activists in 2023).

Mary Richardson is thrust into a time-travelling cabaret as we hear from those involved in futurism and the fascist movement. This is an exploration of a radical ideology through contemporary dance that is captivating in its intensity. Voice overs are played as the actions unfold using physical theatre; this creates an eerie atmosphere where danger feels as though it is lurking behind the curtain. We are also treated to lighter comedic moments throughout, taking the audience on a rollercoaster of emotions.

Beautiful shapes and creative blending of movement with shadow and light, paired with a mixture of classical, operatic, and modern music, makes this a stunning visual piece. The simple staging was transformed by the use of physical bodies as tools for storytelling.

VENUS 2.0 was a dark and mesmerising performance that would appeal to those who enjoy the exploration of hard-hitting themes through dance.

VENUS 2.0 is at the Edinburgh Fringe until 24th August at Main House at ZOO Southside. Buy your tickets here: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/venus-2-0


REVIEW: The Same Only Different — Kenny Sinclair


Rating: 5 out of 5.

‘A must see comedy at the Fringe’


‘The Same Only Different’ is a show you won’t forget in a hurry. Performed by Kenny Sinclair, who has a flair for comedy and manages to get every member of the audience laughing within minutes, ‘The Same Only Different’ explores differences in generations of Scots, and universal themes that pertain to everyone. 

There is something for every audience member: cheeky jokes, nostalgic reminiscence, tongue-in-cheek charm. Sinclair delights and entertains in equal parts, a true comedian who never falls short in enthusiasm. Things haven’t changed so much, he reckons — and yet at the same time, everything is entirely different. This oxymoron provides ample opportunity for jokes and poking fun at every generation, from boomers to zoomers, and their idiosyncratic ways of living.

At the heart of Sinclair’s show is an earnest reminder that while at times we may feel out of our depth, humanity doesn’t change much. We will always remember each other and have ridiculous stories to share — and we will always find a way to laugh at ourselves. Kenny Sinclair captures the spirit of every generation in his fifty-five minute comedy show with just the right amount of audience interaction and clever scripting. From Naked Attraction to tales you’ll remember being told by your granny (or, depending on your age, you’ll remember first-hand!), the show is a quintessential Fringe comedy that you don’t want to miss. 

(The Same Only Different is an Edinburgh Fringe show, performed between the 15th and 25th of August. Tickets are available here: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/the-same-only-different.)


REVIEW: Theo Mason Wood: Legalise Kissing 


Rating: 3 out of 5.

intriguing blend of physical and poetic comedy


Theo Mason Wood has been going through a break-up and he wants to talk about it. Emma has left him after he prioritised a gig at Las Iguana’s Taco Tuesday over her, and he was left bereft. 

In a show covering poetry, freewheeling and surreal stories, a smattering of risque jokes, some work of the imagination, physical comedy and even a harmonica at one point, this is an unusual blend which has potential to be something really unique – as Theo himself notes, the venn diagram of his work and traditional comedy doesn’t exist, the twain are yet to meet. I think this is a slightly unfair assessment – but it’s true, this isn’t a typical stand-up hour. 

He has a talent for surrealist story-telling, which is apparent from the start – a memorable date encounter in the park, and the telling of “the Yoghurt Story” which is the one that will probably be the most recalled section of the show (this is also available on YouTube, but missing a hypnotic physical movement present in the live show), but my particular favourite was “My Life Is Perfect” as a life disintegrates around him. 

The parts between his stories and poems do feel a bit lacking in comparison, and tended to elicit some groans more than laughter.  

Tonight’s crowd was a particularly whispery/chatty one (Theo clearly regretting some flyering decisions made prior to the show) and in an over-hot room, which probably muted some reactions more than deserved.  The introduction of his new girlfriend Natalie was somewhat ponderous, and at this point the audience attention span was flagging, but somewhat came together at the end with a rather convoluted throwback.   

Theo’s clearly talented, and his combination of wide-eyed physicality and story-telling in this hour feels fresh, and unique, with potential to develop further. If you’re looking for something that doesn’t conform to the traditional stand-up format, this is a show worth checking out.  Theo Mason Wood: Legalise Kissing runs until 24 August, at 22:00 at Underbelly Bristo Square.

Tickets can be bought from: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/theo-mason-wood-legalise-kissing


REVIEW: Rohan Sharma: Mad Dog 


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

a fantastically polished debut show, packed with content and hilarity,


Rohan Sharma is in a state of disconnection. In this fast-paced multimedia-laced debut, we’re taken on a whistlestop tour through areas of his internal conflict with unexpected and hilarious results. 


The self-proclaimed Mad Dog sets the scene early with a quick quiz to determine if a crowd member is racist, before diving into his material. We whip through topics such as British food, sex appeal of money, Madame Tussauds, and an intriguing politician his mother encountered in Beaconsfield – Colonel Gaddaffi. We also have Dan the tech, chipping in with his own brand of comedy on occasion, and the founding of a new investment opportunity, as well as the perils of oppression vs privilege, and the thorny topic of finding love. The gags come thick and fast, accompanied by copious laughter, and the PowerPoint use is fresh and fun, without being overused.


This is a well-crafted show, and the pace is kept up throughout – there’s some lovely visual gags, particularly where Rohan’s called out for some ‘emotional truths’ by Dan, and the series of apologies that follows, which skewer some of the comedy show tropes. Not all of the punchlines land quite as Rohan expects, but there’s a general good natured fun to it all that it all works anyway. Similarly, at times the backing music felt a touch too loud, but might just be my seat on the night.      


What really elevates this show above what could be just a good fun hour, is Rohan addressing the fact that he’s not focusing on topics that he would be expected to focus on for a ‘successful’ Fringe show – there’s a lack of trauma or racism he’s encountered. He’s authentic to his own self and what matters to him – namely finding love, and a mild obsession with that aforementioned dictator. I won’t include any  spoilers about what these entail, but there are delightful curveballs and looping callbacks peppered throughout, in a highly satisfying way.   

This is a fantastically polished debut show, packed with content and hilarity, and sure to cement Rohan as a comedian to keep an eye on in the months and years to come. 

Rohan Sharma: Mad Dog runs until 24 August, at 19:10 at Pleasance Courtyard, Below. Tickets can be bought from: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/rohan-sharma-mad-dog

REVIEW: Chickadee


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A charming play about keeping your clown alive and battling for your identity


Chickadee is a manic, lovable play about family, dreams, women’s sexuality and the importance of keeping your inner clown alive. The story of a street clown who under the peer pressure of family and friends metamorphizes into ‘Chickadee the sexy clown’ provides an interesting avenue to explore an array of ideas, and how well it balances these all is hard to say.

An opening Marilyn Monro homage complete with an added red clown nose sets the mood up superbly, before flashing back to an interactive clown street show where the audience joins in. This opening 10 minutes is one of the strongest openings to a show I’ve seen, Feride Morçay immediately wins us over a haunting rendition of happy birthday, before being effortlessly charming and welcoming in her clown show. Later seeing her pray every night to be beautiful and to make others happy, we get a glimpse into her innermost desires. This desire for appreciation will be what sends her down a horrifying series of events as she is pushed into a hypersexual role in TV where seemingly everyone is out to exploit her.

This might sound heavy handed and not hugely original – you’re not wrong. The plot is not a stand out and the longer the show goes on the less of the original charm and originality you see compared to the opening scenes. I really wanted to enjoy this show more, the presentation and aesthetics are charming throughout but often the writing especially the dialogue in the second half is clunky and lacking in saying something new or powerful.

The key idea of “keeping your clown alive” that Chickadee’s soul repeatedly says to her through dream sequences is a strong motif both in the meaning of “keep being silly and have childlike wonder” and as an opposition to the sexual exploitation she faces. Furthermore the constant “women fought for this right” espoused by her mother who dismisses the sexual exploitation does provide an interesting light on what can sexual liberation under patriarchy really mean for women. Between these ideas, spoken about bluntly in a final monologue, and the dazzling opening it feels very Jekyll and Hyde. If the finale and handling of the themes was as strong at the end as in the beginning this would be brilliant. As of now its a fun exploration of some interesting themes, but never lives up to it’s opening.

Chickadee is on at 8:45pm at Zoo Southside every day until the 24th (apart from the 18th)

https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/chickadee