Category Archives: 5*

‘Not Another Quiz Night’ (Debating Hall at Gilded Balloon Teviot, until AUG 30)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Cabaret, Comedy, Rated: Outstanding by

“This show does audience participation like a solar eclipse does hurty eyes.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

A year ago at EdFringe25 I wrote that, “after careful consideration, I can confidently say this is the best show I have seen at any EdFringe.” In retrospect, I am filled with remorse at having written something so opaque. I worry that I was not fulsome enough, not clear enough, not sufficiently on the nose – like a Château Haut-Brion 2025 or a tap from Tyson Fury is on the nose – in expressing to you, savage reader, just how chuffing superb this entire production is. Subtlety is a curse. Fortunately ‘subtlety’ is not a malediction that affects Jake Bhardwaj and the crew. They’re BACK. They’re BIGGER. They’re EVEN MORE INVENTIVE and, who’d have thunked it, they are more, More, MORE of everything than last year.

Popadom Frisbee (Queensbury Rules) has been replaced with Slap That Bap. There’s a celebrity guest appearance by Andy Murray instead of Liam and/or Noel Gallagher. Baywatch Beach Parade has been replaced by shirt OR vest BUT biggest crisp is still in the lineup. There’s a lot more lighting, a lot more sound effects, a lot more glittery explosions, and a capacity crowd in the comparatively massiver Teviot Debating Hall. The venue seems to bulge at the seams like a Fat Cupid in a too-small loincloth as the crowd goes utterly wild from start to finish.

Bhardwaj is the greatest ringmaster and showcaser showman of our time. He plays us like a jacked up Bert in ‘Mary Poppins’ would play his one-man-band if it were replaced by ALL the instruments of the London Symphony and Berlin Philharmonic combined. The pace is out of this world. The night speeds by like a perp in a Yangwang U9 during a police chase and the border only 80 short clicks away.

Come for one of the two most insanely BIG and beautiful shows of this or any EdFringe. Stay for the skill and the craft of serious levels of silly done silly levels of serious. Get whatever coats, gladrags, hats, and assorted clobber you and yours can quickly club together on and go see this!

 

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‘Doktor Kaboom and the Wheel of Science!’ (Beyond at Pleasance Courtyard, until AUG 16)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“Doktor Kaboom occupies a place in the life of EdFringe like how Bismarck occupied a place in the realpolitik of 19th-century Europe.”

Editorial Rating: 7 out of 5 Stars (Outstanding)

There’s a rumour doing the rounds that Doktor Kaboom is planning an EdFringe27 show for adult audiences and my girls are not happy. Doktor Kaboom belongs to us, they insist, in that same howling protest voice they use when I turn off their Disney+ to catch the latest test match scores. Doktor Kaboom occupies a place in the life of EdFringe like how Bismarck occupied a place in the realpolitik of 19th-century Europe. The good Doktor’s strength of personality, his unshakable determination to outflank and outperform all other petty rivals, has delivered, year on year, a monumental show with some monumental messages. The Doktor is an institution in the way that Max Planck is an institute to which even my girls’ mighty professorial Grandad must attend when summoned to talk serious science.

He is missing out. This year’s edition of Doktor Kaboom is a noble vintage with the added pleasure of seeing the welcome return of the wheel of science, which was here last year, but not on stage. On the wheel are listed the demonstrations that have made the name Kaboom famous across continents and oceans and of interest to numerous security services and international watchdogs. Which will we see today? Let’s take a spin and find out.

In her EdFringe notebook, the one with Mary E. Brunkow and a group of happy auld mice on the cover, Daughter 1.0 (11 yrs) wrote: “Doktor kaboom and the wheel of Science was A-Mazing! I loved the vacum cannon and the hovercraft. But my favorite was Flour Power. For Obvious reasons. Flour Power was my favourite because of how much fire some flour and a candle can make. It’s incredible. Can’t wait to see this next year!”

In a letter to her Devonian (place and/or period) grandmother, Daughter 2.0 (8yrs) wrote: “Today I went to see docter Kaboom! It’s crazy fun and exciting. There are many experaments and One it called the hovercraft. its a table top with a shower curtin atached to it with holles and a hole in the table top were he puts the most powerful leaf blower money can bye and I Got to sit on the hovercraft and I squizzed the handdel and then got pushed to the other side of the room! I felt excited when on the hover craft and joyful.”

Only an Amazon-sized forest of bay trees could produce sufficient laurels for this show, which rests on not a single one. It’s not just the concept, or the performance, or the impact, or the lifetime’s worth of memories, or the did-he-really-just-do-thattery – it’s the consistency that makes this show such a family favourite. It’s like if The Almighty stepped out of Python’s ‘Holy Grail’, went back, bat in hand, to the crease and scored a century in under 70mins. The greatest Doktor since W.G. Grace continues to astound and astonish audiences with a show that is truly in a league of its own.

Come for the science. Stay for finely tuned spontaneity. Get your lab coats long enough to cover any Bundesflagge kilts you’ve slipped out past your valet on and go see this!

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‘Explosive Science Show!’ (Studio One at Assembly George Square Studios, until AUG 31)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“There will be no shushing of the wee ones or demands for stillness. There will, however, be a chap seeming to set himself on fire – literally.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Magnus Danger Magnus is an EdFringe phenomenon. The most charming man in the known universe. An elemental force of nature. A seasoned performer. A certifiably crazy person, he has more energy than the hypergiant Stephenson 2-18 in the constellation Scutum, which, if he reads this, I know will make him chuckle because our Magnus loves a silly (preferably risqué) remark from the comic nether regions. Double entendre? In your endo.

As a super-massive fan of the fantastically filthy ‘Adults Only Magic Show’ in which he also regularly appears to steal the show, there’s no doubting that he is one of life’s great natural performers. Incredibly hardworking, there is a precision and a delicacy to his finely honed stagecraft, belied by the tumult and mayhem. It’s obvious from the way he speaks that ‘Explosive Science Show!’ is his great passion project – his Magnus Opus. It’s the show in which he speaks from the heart to the heart of the matter – science truly is for everyone because neurospiciness is not a hindrance – it’s a superpower. There will be no shushing of the wee ones or demands for stillness. There will, however, be a chap seeming to set himself on fire – literally.

In her EdFringe notebook, the one showing Barbie graduating from the Max Planck Institute on the cover, Daughter 1.0 (11 years) wrote: “I loved this show because it has everything a child would want in a science show: explosions, Elephant’s toothpaste, a crazy lunatic setting his hand on fire. My favourite part was when Magnus poured a powder into a liquid and it burst into flames. I really hope to see this show next year.”

As a parent, there are some shows that are not only worth the money, they are worth having kids for. This is one such. If thrills and spills and Research Octane Numbers in the upper 120s are your thing, this show is a must-see. If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to take espresso shots via the eyeball while having east of the Danube energy drinks pumped directly into your left ventricle, this is a safer(ish) way to find out. Magnus Danger Magnus is memorable in the way that finding out you’ve been strapped to the front of a prototype bullet train in Hubei province would be memorable.

Come for one of the two best kids’ science shows at EdFringe. Stay for the man, the myth, the legend. Get your lab coats on and go see this!

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‘Dickens: The Readings’ (Studio One at Assembly George Square Studios, until AUG 30)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Rated: Outstanding, Spoken Word by

“Porter’s reading is a resurrection of living personalities. Davy, Murdstone, Steerforth, Peggotty and his progeny leap from the page as fresh as fresh pu’d gowans fine.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

150+ years since Charles Dickens last took to an Edinburgh stage to perform his legendarily lucrative public readings, 22 performers are recreating the magic each day at Assembly Fringe. Several lifetimes ago, in 2019, Eddie Izzard attempted something similar, although the EdFringe ambassador of today did not receive the expected adulation back then. Should we be surprised? Dickens’ not entirely undeserved reputation for impenetrable, wordy monumentalism – as with his just-about-contemporary, Sir Walter Scott – has reduced somewhat the numbers queuing round the block to engage with his art.

When I first read ‘Waverley’ a couple of years ago, yes, I realised I had been missing out. It’s the greatest novel in the English language. A masterpiece. They should really name some large piece of civic infrastructure in the book’s honour. But then again, those same reasons which made me cordially loathe Kevin and Perry when they first appeared would have kept me from warming to the hapless Edward Titular during all of early adulthood. It’s just too sharply observed. Dickens and Scott are intended for mature audiences – readers who have lived a little and learned a lot. Enter the wonderful Gail Porter.

I liked Gail Porter a lot back in the day – as did every hot-blooded youth with a pulse. Today she is one of my heroes, a woman who has been through several layers of Dante’s Inferno and come back (aye, a tad wee bit singed) but in the essentials stronger than a powered-up Pac-Man. Porter is Edinburgh. Pretty, if you like that sort of thing (which I do), but more importantly resilient AF, unafraid of a few squalls of inclement weather, and a damn sight smarter than the average bare bum on the Houses of Parliament.

There’s no list of the performers who are reading on any given day. I just happened to win the lottery and got the reader with the sheer weight of lived experience, intellectual depth and emotional range to really, Really, REALLY do justice to ‘David Copperfield’ and a bit of ‘Little Nell’. Dickens is a refuge, a safe harbour, for those whose vital spark caught light early in life but who never had the time or opportunity to find those spiritual anchorages which keep us all from checking into the loony bin when the unavoidable big questions and those shitty little nagging doubts finally come a’knocking.

Hubris and nemesis. Trials and tribulations. Kindness and cruelty. Love, hate, and (what’s far worse) indifference. These are the colour-shade staples of Dicken’s painter’s palette. In her unrehearsed, perfectly spontaneous performance, Porter does for Dicken’s pictures in words what a great restorer could do for that auld oil portrait of Scott and his dogs that’s just about still visible in the Spec Halls under all that ancient coal smoke. She brings the colours out vividly like how the sea at Santorini is supposed to be vivid. Porter’s reading is a resurrection of living personalities. Davy, Murdstone, Steerforth, Peggotty and his progeny leap from the page as fresh as fresh pu’d gowans fine, as urgent as a bus driver tapping his air brakes at a pedestrian on South Bridge who’s not finished his hurried crossing en route to this show.

If the other 21 performers achieve half of what Porter did -and if they have a good Kermit the Frog story to throw into the mix for added good measure – then come for Dickens done right. Stay for the camaraderie of a crowd who know we’re on to a good thing. Get your coarse Petersham great-coats on and go see this!

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‘Mythos: Ragnarök’ (Music Hall at Assembly Rooms, until AUG 29)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Assembly Hall, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“A subtle and sophisticated piece of storytelling with the heart of Sleipnir and a pace to match.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Norse mythology is BIG. It’s elemental. It’s soulful, poetic and, above all, exciting. Ed Gamester’s vision is EXACTLY what a little boy would dream of as he avidly read ‘D’aulaires’ Book of Norse Myths’ snug at Gran and Poppy’s house back in the day – and what an aulder chap would try to convey reading the same volume to his own darling wee progeny a year or two dozen later.

Gamester is an EdFringe legend in his own lifetime. He has raised this show from scratch with considerably more time and effort than the All Father needed to raise that wheat which saved the farmer’s son in a Faroese ballad from long ago. From the teeny-tiny Roxy venue to the Asgardian splendour of the Music Hall at Assembly Rooms, our Ed has made magic happen year after year. His show is a crowd-pleaser – and what a crowd – but it is also a subtle and sophisticated piece of storytelling with the heart of Sleipnir and a pace to match.

As Odin, Howard Drake dominates the action with a cosmic gravitas. The premier ring-builder in the UK, Drake literally sets the stage for the drama that unfolds, the perfect foil for Gamester’s fiercesomely soulful and (just) occasionally irreverent Loki. Together, these two titans slam into the narrative like a hot knife slams into butter. The result is a smorgasbord of characterful vignettes and choreographed pandemonium that spills out into the audience with the sudden slugfest urgency of Jörmungandr jumping in and out of a wood-fired hot tub.

As Gullveig, Louise Young (of Iron Girders fame) brings an unquiet, unforgettable, unmissable dignity to proceedings. Together with the splendid performance, presence, and physicality of Rhonda Pownall (as Friday’s namesake), Young delivers a counterweight to the overwheening ambition of the menfolk. It’s a stratospheric performance that could dwarf an ice giant. 

Countermatching Young’s steely (only just) restraint is Miles Ley’s babyface Thor. The Bristol Old Vic alum is utterly sensational; it is simply outrageous that anyone should get paid for having so much fun on stage. And here is what makes Gamester’s vision so successful, this exacting balance of comedy and tragedy, majesty and mayhem forged deep into the metal of a riveting piece of stage traffic by a producer demonstrating skills equivalent to Völundr skillfully smithing a sgian dubh to be worn in Beowulf’s sock. The scale is actually small on an MGM TV scale, but it’s off the charts in terms of dramatic thrust and impact.

The not-so-secret MEGASTARS of this production are Melanie Watson’s costumes, which make everything and everyone on stage seem incredibly real. From Loki’s trousers to Fin McCarthy’s Fenrir, Watson’s creations are bold and inspired, a reenactor’s wet dream. Complimented by Gamester’s BIG recent spend on lighting. This is LIVE theatre on a Cecil B. DeMille scale, and it works. It really, Really, REALLY works.

Come for the Sam Gardiner-sized bouts of pure dead brilliance. Stay for Beau Charles’ pecs. Get your valshamrs on and go see this!

 

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‘The Yellow Wallpaper’ (Lime Studio, Greenside @ George Street, until AUG 29 – not 16 or 23)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Dance, Greenside, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“A balletic psychodrama, energetically blurring the boundary between Jane’s life of confinement and the spectral surreality of her imagination.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

This is a vividly dramatic version of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s 1892 short story, adapted for the stage as lively piece of dance theatre by sisters Caitlin and Megan Ort: with Caitlin the director and choreographer, whilst Megan doubles as associate director/choreographer and performs the central role of protagonist Jane.

The original story, often anthologised in collections of classic horror stories, is also a milestone in feminist literature due to its portrayal of patriarchal attitudes towards the physical and mental health of women in the late nineteenth century. Gilman’s story focuses on Jane, the wife of John, a doctor who has brought her to a rented country house for a “rest cure” – the standard treatment of isolation and inactivity of the era, prescribed for postpartum depression and what was then called “female hysteria”. Via John and Jane’s relationship, this adaptation highlights themes such as the medical profession’s attempts to silence and subdue women via enforced domestication. The wallpaper of the title symbolises Jane’s descent into madness as she imagines figures behind the peeling wallcovering in her bedroom.

Megan Ort is a highly expressive actor, whose first-person narration as Jane directly engages the audience, with her emotional state enhanced by bursts of vivid movement and dance. Morgan Blanchard portrays her doctor husband John as a loving spouse with sinister undertones as he administers the drugs to subjugate his wife; in this he is assisted by his sister Jennie, portrayed as a darkly smouldering femme fatale by Paloma D’Auria.

The choreographic element of this production does much to bring the supernatural and psychological aspects of the story to life; what would otherwise be mere narration is transformed into a balletic psychodrama, energetically blurring the boundary between Jane’s life of confinement and the spectral surreality of her imagination. The ghostly figures behind the wallpaper and the pent-up emotions in the room are physically brought to life by a trio of dancers: Maya Musial, Annie Sherman, and Claire van Bever. Their viscerally expressive movement is hypnotic as, by turns, they claustrophobically surround and haunt Jane, then express her frustration with wide-eyed writhing and terpsichorean leaps.

This is a feminist horror story like you’ve never seen before. This American troupe brought the audience to their feet for a standing ovation at the end of an action-packed hour in the Lime Studio, Greenside @ George Street. The show runs for the whole of the Fringe, but this medium-sized auditorium has a limited number of seats, so secure your tickets soon.

 

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‘Afrique En Cirque’ (Music Hall at Assembly Rooms, George Street, until AUG 30 – not AUG 12, 17 24)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Circus, Dance, Music, Rated: Outstanding by

“What we saw seemed like an Olympic games of athletic talent: somersaulting tumblers who never seemed to get dizzy; physical contortionists who twisted their bodies into eye-wateringly convoluted shapes, always with a cheerful smile on their face; and gravity-defying human pyramids that challenged the laws of architecture.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

As its French title suggests, Afrique en Cirque is a circus-style entertainment that presents a lively showcase of African culture. Created by the Guinean artist Yamoussa Bangoura, the show is produced by the Montreal-based company Cirque Kalabanté, whose house style is to blend contemporary North American circus arts with traditional West African dance, drumming, and live music.

As might be expected, this is a highly energetic and physical show. Just for the removal of any doubt, forget any expectation that you may have of a traditional European circus (you know – clowns and performing animals), but be prepared instead for a highly colourful and vibrant theatrical extravaganza. As one little girl sitting near me exclaimed to her mum: “This is better than The Lion King!”

The spaciously opulent Music Hall auditorium at the Assembly Rooms in George Street was packed with a large and enthusiastic audience, who regularly broke into bursts of spontaneous applause and whoops of delight at the spectacle before them. After a fairly subdued and soulful start, the show steadily builds up energy with a succession of often jaw-dropping acrobatic feats; all performed with joyful exuberance.

At times what we saw seemed like an Olympic games of athletic talent: somersaulting tumblers who never seemed to get dizzy; physical contortionists who twisted their bodies into eye-wateringly convoluted shapes, always with a cheerful smile on their face; and gravity-defying human pyramids that challenged the laws of architecture. As a distinctly unathletic pensioner who feels wary walking down a steep staircase, I often winced at the carefree bravery of the performers on stage. Despite the playful feel exuded by the cast, it must require the steely nerves of a fast jet test pilot to pull this stuff off.

The soundtrack to this incredible show was a lively mix of traditional West African folk music and percussion with contemporary Afro-Jazz. One visually striking feature in this respect was the Kora: a guitar-like African instrument that is strung in such a way as to make it resemble a harp.

This is a show suitable for all the family (age 5+ recommended) and there were dozens of delighted kids in the audience when I was there. The show is already selling very well, so book your tickets soon to ensure a ringside seat.

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‘Clive’ (Drawing Room at Assembly Rooms, George Street, until AUG 30)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Comedy, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“This grippingly entertaining show carries the audience on a journey from a chirpy domestic comedy to a dark lockdown WFH psychodrama with a superb central performance from Paul Keating as the fragile housebound bureaucrat.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

I’m always on the look-out for new writing at the Fringe, so spotting posters and flyers for this one-man show with a picture of a cactus on them drew me to the Drawing Room at the Assembly Rooms on George Street. The size of the queue waiting to go in suggested that many others had the same idea. It soon became clear that this audience had been doing their homework. Clive is the latest work from writer Michael Wynne, who won the Olivier Award for Best New Comedy in 2010 for his play Priory. The solo performer in the show we were about to see is Paul Keating, an actor with a film, television, and theatre rap sheet as long as your arm and a two-time Olivier nominee himself.

The play is a dark comedy about working from home (WFH), the phenomenon that millions of us became abruptly familiar with during the Covid lockdowns a few years ago. Director Lucy Bailey’s production is eminently watchable, with a deceptively simple white set dominated by the eponymous Clive – the large green potted cactus from the posters. This is the flat of Thomas, a likeable and gregarious office worker now transplanted to his home and cheerfully making the best of his new circumstances.

With his previous social life now reduced to Zoom meetings with colleagues and managers, Thomas fills his day with innocent displacement activities involving some entertainingly performed household chores, gazing out of his window to watch similarly house-bound workers coping with their own domestic confinement, and the excitement of doorstep deliveries and taking in parcels for his neighbours.

From the beginning, we’re drawn in to Thomas’s world as he shares confidences with a cheerfully chatty demeanour. He makes himself comfortable with the help of Alexa, the virtual voice-activated computer assistant, whom he uses to create mood lighting to vary the ambience around his workspace. The practical realities of WFH are wryly parodied by Thomas dressing for work from the waist up in a Zoom-friendly office shirt, whilst spending the day barefoot and trouserless.

But all too soon the cheerfully comedic adventure of WFH takes on a darker claustrophobic tone. Is there something obsessive-compulsive about Thomas’s constant cleaning? Will his relationships with his co-workers survive the isolation of Zoom? Was he really the life and soul of office social life we thought he’d been? The lack of human contact in this new virtual environment quickly lays bare the seemingly toxic undercurrents that were once concealed by the protective veneer of civilised society. Even the Clive the cactus becomes a sinister looming presence.

This grippingly entertaining show carries the audience on a journey from a chirpy domestic comedy to a dark lockdown WFH psychodrama with a superb central performance from Paul Keating as the fragile housebound bureaucrat.

 

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‘How to Poop in an Outhouse at -58°C’ (Greenside @ George Street: Ivy Studio, until AUG 29)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Greenside, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“This is the story of a young woman empowering herself by doing six impossible things everyday before breakfast, and empowering others in the process.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Kona Morris is my own great discovery of Edinburgh Fringe ‘26. If Theodore Roosevelt – the unstoppable, seriously try and stop him, literary outdoorsman, the death-defying explorer and naturalist – if TR was recast as a Disney princess, the result might look and feel a lot like our Kona and with the same capacity to hold a capacity crowd at the edge of their seats.

We enter to find a stage bare of bears and salmons and whirlpools and tiny log cabins in the middle of somebody’s somewhere but a long way from everywhere else’s creature comforts. Flicking back on my phone to the photo I took on entering, I am shocked at how, from the minimalist, ultra-Fringey compactness of Greenside’s Ivy Studio on George Street, such a massive story, still writ large across the mind’s eye, could have emerged. Morris achieves levels of total immersion storytelling that make it possible to believe that Alfred really did sing to the Vikings before Edington and Wedmore without them St Edmonding and burying him.

Walking softly but carrying a BIG stick, not THE big stick I am happy to learn later, Morris shares her lived experience of falling in love with a native Alaskan man, moving to his village and becoming part of his world. There’s a final twist in the tale and a post-credits vignette that are the icing and cherry on this gargantuan-scale cupcake. This is the story of a young woman empowering herself by doing six impossible things everyday before breakfast, and empowering others in the process. If the Victorian Edwardian adventures of Roosevelt’s day were in possession of an iota of Morris’ capacity for regard, reverence, and reflection for pre-Columbian roots, perhaps the world would be less beset with toxic cultural tumbleweed. Maybe.

Much of America (it seems to this horrible Auldworld nationalist) is yet to make the rigorous intellectual and spiritual journey undertaken in many parts of His Majesty’s Commonwealth towards recognising the value, the versatility, and the vision of First Peoples as well as the priceless inheritance their relationships with the world around them have nurtured down the centuries and millennia.

Kona Morris is an exceptional exception to this rule, an Arctic sunrise of hope that, with openness of mind, a bigness of heart, and a depth of soul beyond the ordinary, we can all learn more and better about what makes a successful community, a thriving society, and a valuable culture – and when it’s time to call it a day and live one’s own authentic life.

This is a story and a storytelling I hope my own girls will encounter on their journey to vigorous womanhood and the rough riding that the strenuous life inevitably throws at those whose faces are marred by dust and sweat and mud – the doers of deeds who are just trying to catch the California flight to a cousin’s wedding in this age having come off a long river journey seemingly from another time.

Come for the Disney princess telling the Alaskan wilderness like it is. Stay for the geometric storytelling that explodes the small arithmetics of a tiny venue. Get your two-sizes-too-big purple coats on and go see this!

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‘Mandy: Prince of Darkness’ (Ivy Studio at Greenside @ George Street, until AUG 29)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2026, 5*, Greenside, Rated: Nae Bad, Theatre by

“Richard Stirling takes to the stage much as we are told Jeeves shimmers into any given room.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Nae Bad)

For four decades, he was the omnipresent, supposedly omnipotent king of spin. And then suddenly he wasn’t. Peter Mandelson’s political career spanned the sudden shift from the ultra-curated analogue print and broadcast age to a more open-access knowledge economy. Before the numberless influencers of digital media emerged, Mandelson was the guy who knew, the guy to know. But was he?

Unlike a pharaonic-scale engineer – a Brunel or an Eiffel – there are no great works dotted through the landscape to look upon and despair – the crashing crassness of the Millennium Dome aside. This supposed supremo – a rather anaemic English edition of Hanna, Atwater, or Carville – made his presence felt on the Westminster political stage, but was there ever any substance to his misty-mystery – or were we all imbibing the post hoc ergo propter hoc like it’s Oktoberfest? Labour won a landslide in ‘97 after Mandelson had been peacocking across the quarterdeck for years; therefore, because of?

RADA’s own Richard Stirling takes to the stage much as we are told Jeeves shimmers into any given room. We are about to watch a powerhouse deliver a masterclass in acting up close and personal, and I am thanking my lucky stars that the ultra-Fringey compactness of Greenside’s Ivy Studio on George Street gives me a front row seat, knee to knee with someone doing something so marvellous. Here is a deep study in shallowness as the clock Marks 8:36.

Stirling (forever THE Boko Fittleworth in THE definitive Wodehouse adaptation) is the celebrated author of Julie Andrews: An Intimate Biography as well as the playwright who penned A Princess Undone – the no holds barred account of one night in 1993 in the life of Princess Margaret. On reflection, Mandy seems like a rather appropriate addition to Stirling’s collection of biographical trophies – mounted on a bit too much tech, but stuffed with fine details that make this an authentic, lively, and blisteringly warts and all piece of theatrical portraiture – more genteel unflinching Gerald Scarfe than grotesque unrepentant James Gilray.

The format is largely linear, and it has to be to carry the weight of career detail, rival personalities and, of course, the sordid horror of the horrible revelations about Mandelson’s relationship with a convicted child rapist. Stirling, the actor, shifts seamlessly in the blink of an eye from his Dark Prince charmless to the affably unBrownian “call me Tony” of pre-Iraq days. Although the archival video footage projected behind is occasionally clunky, the use of actual newspaper front-page splashes from the dawn to the dusk of Mandelson’s public stage strutting amplifies the underlying message that the media ground beneath Mandelson’s feet was utterly transformed during the strange career of the self-styled Third Man – the camp TV Michael Reenie version, not the Orson Welles spiv monster who profited by doctoring children’s medicine.

A ton of research has gone into this magpie’s nest of a show. So has the honed and practised craft of an actor whose obvious natural talent has been sharpened into a sabre, one wielded with the precision of a scalpel from walk to full gallop. When the final penultimate chapter of Mandelson, and perhaps of the party he once mismanaged, has been written in the ballots of our next general election, I suspect that this script and its performance will have predicted much.

Come for the acting out of a political life that cannot help but be of interest to historians of the modern era (surely new error). Stay for the sake of one of our finest character actors doing his thang bloody chuffing well. DON’T get your donkey jackets on but do come see this!

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