Category Archives: 5*

‘Mitch Benn: The Lehrer Effect’ (Venue 302, until AUG 25th)

Posted in *EdFestivals 2025, 5*, Theatre by

“It’s a fast-paced, blend of showmanship and showcasing that is, most importantly, properly entertaining and worthy of its august subject.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Mitch Benn should be made to stand in the arrivals hall at Heathrow, Gatwick, or Turnhouse and welcome people into the country. He is a national treasure forged in the Bedlamic crucible of Edinburgh in and beyond the Fringe. His voice is possibly probably the finest vocal instrument this side of Brian Blessed. As one of the two most admired comic songsters of the current age, who better than Benn to deliver a 60-minute lecture on the wonder and wonderosity of the late, great Tom Lehrer?* Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq., perhaps, but Bedford’s own was too busy elbowing your not especially humble correspondent in the ribs and making shushing noises during all my best singing along – like he was Maturin meeting Aubrey.

*Leher was the latter, but not quite yet the former when the curtain went up on the night of 26 July at Bedfringe.

Articulate, intellectual, sceptical, musical. If you need to be sold on Tom Leher there’s a chance you cannot be redeemed for a pocket full of winning lottery tickets. Have you been living under a rock since 1944 – when Lehrer first put notes to paper with his “The Subway Song”? HCCKKCC PW if you didn’t know that or that there have been 16 new elements discavard since 1959.

This is a show that rests on zero laurels, Benn’s or Lehrer’s. It’s a fast-paced, blend of showmanship and showcasing that is, most importantly, properly entertaining and worthy of its august subject. Here’s a show that has ‘regular retirement cruise ship gig’ written all over it. Lehrer recently placed all of his songs in the public domain, so we can expect a tribute act or three down the line. Will they have this pace, this energy, this level of insight? Glass coffin / remains to be seen.

Come for the nostalgia. Stay for the freshness. Get your leather elbow-patched coats on and go see this!

 

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘OH OH’ (Venue 300, until AUG 25th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“What this duo deliver is a compelling blend of slapstick humour and impressive, effortlessly-executed acrobatics as the duo play games, skip rope and dance.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Edinburgh’s Festival Fringe is not a quiet place. It’s loud, brash and in your face. Circus shows, in particular, often arrive in town in an explosion of sequins, feathers and graphic content warnings. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I love the pizzazz of it all. And I like to be a little shocked on occasion, it keeps me on my toes.

Compagnia Baccalà’s OH OH takes a different tack. This show is billed as a ‘joyful combination of acrobatics and slapstick’ that harks back to the silent movie era. There are no content warnings here.

I was pleased to spot it in the listings. Some years ago, I saw Baccalà’s Chaplinesque PSS PSS in a small-ish venue at the Fringe. It was an absolute delight of a show and one I often think of when asked about my Fringe favourites over the years.

I was far from alone in loving PSS PSS, so it came as no surprise that they’re now in a bigger venue than when I last saw them – the iconic Udderbelly in George Square Gardens (for the uninitiated; a giant purple tent in the shape of an upside-down cow.) OH OH begins with a spotlight on a sleeping clown, Simone Fassari, the stage otherwise dark and empty. A rope ladder appears from above, and his companion, Camille Pessi, descends to wake him.

These are not modern, red-nosed clown stereotypes. Simone is in relatively subdued attire of shirt, trousers, braces – a shabby chic, Buster Keaton sort of a look. Camille is more vivacious, pixie-like in striped top and tights, flouncing red velvet skirt and shorts, and gravity-defying curly pigtails. While he is hangdog, bemused and (at least initially) slightly downbeat, she is wide-eyed and sparky, her highly expressive face cycling rapidly through curiosity, amusement and pure mischief.

OH OH is a wordless performance, with occasional music effectively used to set the tone as it shifts from exuberant play to fleeting melancholy and back again. There’s little peril in their antics – don’t expect the ‘death-defying’ tricks you might see elsewhere at the Fringe – what this duo deliver is a compelling blend of slapstick humour and impressive, effortlessly-executed acrobatics as the duo play games, skip rope and dance.

Camille is often the scene-stealer, whether clambering through the audience to catch a ball or navigating the rope ladder while playing an accordion – without missing a note. Simone, however, gets some of the biggest laughs as he pivots between irritation and amusement at his show-off companion. They have a competitive, occasionally antagonistic relationship – but there is no heat in their squabbling. Where conflicts bubble up they are quickly resolved and the games begin again.

If I had any concerns that OH OH couldn’t live up to PSS PSS they were quickly dispelled. There’s no radical departure here, the two shows are similar in their timeless look and feel, but that familiarity is very welcome in this case. OH OH is warm, engaging and utterly charming. The audience, of all ages, loved it and the majority gave the duo a standing ovation; a prize not always easily won at the Fringe.

Get your coats on and go see this!

 

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘At Home With Will Shakespeare’ (Venue 33, until AUG 26th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“Not since the age of Allan Ramsay has Edinburgh enjoyed portraiture of such soaring humility and intimate majesty.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

I’m standing in the queue for the lavies after the show. It’s a long and slow-moving wait. Behind me another Pip Utton mega fan is waxing lyrical on the master’s stage presence, his timing, his audience work, his gift for telling big stories with little touches. It was a much better review than the one you’re about to read.

We enter to find Mr Shakespeare is recovering from the night before. This is not a specific moment in the Bard’s life. It’s one of those out of time and space encounters which are the signature of the Utton canon. Over the coming hour we will explore Shakespeare’s triumphs, examine his tragedies, extirpate some myths, and excite the green-eyed monster jealousies which (still) pettily peep out from the shadow cast by this huge-legged colossus not of an age but for all time.

Plays about Shakespeare are ten a penny. In fact, there are probably more of them staged at any given EdFringe than actual revivals of the words what he wrote. Who was this man of inky glory? What powered his genius? There are more potential questions with more possible answers than there are moves on a chessboard. It takes a grounded hubris to attempt to scale the towering heights of Shakespeare. It takes the eye of an Olympian climber to identify the swiftest, but surest route up in the time allowed. It takes nimbleness, subtly, and strength to arrive with time enough to spare so as to enjoy the view.

Utton gets Shakespeare the grafter because no other actor grafts like Utton. Utton comprehends Shakespeare the crafter because no other theatrical producer is so reliable in the quality of their craft as Utton. Utton lauds Shakespeare with the gentle, self-mocking laughter of one who has similarly reached the top and managed to stay there.

Nicola Fleming’s direction is fluid, lucid, and candid. Here is the show which comes closest to recovering what was lost when the late, great Rodney Bewes took his final curtain call. Bewes was the gourmet master of the EdFringe potboiler solo show. His genius was to make each performance come alive with an offhand delivery that sent the ball wheezing over the boundary line for six time and again. Utton is similarly loved by his audience and, as I am reminded in the queue for the loos, that relationship is deepening with each successive success.

Not since the age of Allan Ramsay has Edinburgh enjoyed portraiture of such soaring humility and intimate majesty. Not having Pip Utton at an EdFringe is like not having whisky cream sauce on your haggis – it is possible, but the best festival there is or ever was is just better with the work of Pip Utton featuring in the line-up.

Get your doublets on and go see this!

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘Sh!t-faced Shakespeare®: Much Ado About Nothing’ (Venue 150, until AUG 25th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“There’s nothing highbrow about this production. The premise is simple, and (literally) intoxicating.”

Editorial Rating:5 Stars (Outstanding)

I want to like Shakespeare. He can spin a good yarn, no argument from me there. And I’m Scottish, so having a vague fondness for MacBeth is hardwired. I like a bit of Romeo and Juliet too – but I prefer West Side Story. I like it all dumbed down a little, I suppose. The language barrier is the main issue for me. I get lost in the wherefores and the hithertos, and not in a good way. Pure, undiluted Shakespeare just feels like school to me. I expect to be quizzed on my understanding of it later, and I expect to fail.

So, Shakespeare is rarely on my theatrical hitlist, if I’m honest. But Sh!t-faced Shakespeare is a bit different. There’s nothing highbrow about this production. The premise is simple, and (literally) intoxicating. Each night, one member of a classically-trained cast gets somewhat inebriated before taking the stage. Chaos ensues.

Edinburgh regulars may well be familiar with the concept. Sh!t-faced Shakespeare has been a Fringe stalwart for some years now, and is proudly billed as a “five-star, multi sell-out Fringe phenomenon”. This year, the team have brought Much Ado About Nothing to town, and on the night I attended it was Benedick who’d had a few. Compère Jess, in top hat and sequins, steered the show along, on occasion halting the proceedings with the blast of an air horn to remind the errant thespian of the second rule of Sh!tfaced Shakespeare – don’t mess with the set – and indeed on one occasion to disentangle him from a trellis. She also issued audience members with a tambourine and a gong, with instructions to deploy them to signal that Benedick’s drink might need topped up. Which they gleefully did.

If all of this sounds a bit like an adult pantomime to you, you’re not far wrong. The overblown humour, the posturing, the knowing nods to the audience – many of whom are clearly regular attendees – all set quite a familiar tone. (To British audiences at least – I’m not sure that panto is really much of a thing elsewhere.) The set, too, is reminiscent of the local pantos of my youth. Much less minimalist than your average Fringe show, the scenery looks hand-painted, a cheery, cartoonish backdrop to the tale’s Messina setting. The costume design is traditional, to a point. While the classic period costumes would likely not look out of place on an RSC stage, the exaggerated cod-pieces might.

The sober cast members’ traditional acting skills were also apparent, though quickly overshadowed by adept improv as they reacted to the antics of an increasingly lairy Benedick. The play moved along at pace, if not in the direction its author intended. The plot, after all, is all but incidental and no two performances will be the same. Did it wholly live up to its ‘Fringe phenomenon’ promise on the night? Probably not – some of the more puerile gags elicited more of an eye-roll than a genuine laugh – but it was anarchic, sweary fun. And the audience was along for the ride, the front rows whooping as Benedick kicked his (plastic) empties in their direction.

True Shakespeare purists will hate this show. Please stay away. Shield your eyes, it’s not for you. The rest of you will probably have a grand old time – if you’re in the mood for something unabashedly silly. Get your doublets on and go see this!

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘Tweedy’s Massive Circus’ (Venue 360, until Aug 21)

Posted in 5*, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“A riot of perfectly pitched clowning.”

Editorial Rating:  5 Stars (Outstanding)

Our latest Fringe adventure was off to the smaller of the two big top in the Meadows. Tweedy is a well-kent face. Giffords, the famous circus, has been Tweedy’s home for well over a decade but now he has struck out on his own with Tweedy’s Massive Circus.

Massive is the right word because for Tweedy really is a giant of this world. He’s created is own circus – which the audience gleefully taunts him it being tiny with whenever he says it is massive. His massive/tiny circus (delete as appropriate) has landed at the Fringe.

Tweedy is the sun around which everything revolves but the rest of the cast are a talented bunch. Sam, Reuben and Lulu (who is constantly teased for being a terrible actress) and Tweedy’s nemesis, and funder, Madame La Reine (latterly Madame Latrine and Madame Lasgna). Sam, in particular, manages to steal some of the scenes but this is the Tweedy show. He really is a clown at the top of his game. It takes years of practice to look this shambolic.

My youngest, 8, loved every minute it of it; hooting with delight and at points doubled over with laughter. From the moment Tweedy came out in a tiny car, through tight-rope walking, vegan vampires, plate spinning, toilet humour, ladder play, dinosaur aerialists, and juggling.A riot of perfectly pitched clowning. He has the audience in the palm of his hand and as well as the ”tiny” teasing he has numerous lines that the crowd get behind as if a pantomime as popped into the summer sun. Oh no it hasn’t!

The story is simple: Tweedy has convinced Madame La Reine (latterly Latrine and Lasagna) to finance his massive circus and, whenever she appears, he manages to make some catastrophic error. She wants a world-class circus of the golden age. Tweedy has delivered something different. Of course, each failure is funnier than the last.

Tweedy is so good you never know if he is vibing or if it is scripted. It is an odd mix of high-level clowning and outright anarchy. The cast are forever trying to make the others laugh with adlibs or outright corpsing. There was one moment when Tweedy manages to suspend himself by the groin and he yelped in what seemed like genuine pain… I’ll never known if it was planned or not.

Many of these kids shows appeal to 5 year olds and – honestly – parents are checking the football scores. This is good, old-fashioned family fun. Everyone is laughing. Yes. It is silly. Yes. It is rude. Yes. It is puerile. Yes. It is slapstick. Which is, as they say in France, le sodding point.

As every great clown knows: no one – literally no one – wants plates spinning to stay up. We all want the Emma Bridgewater stuff smashed. An raucous, hour of bonkers delight. This is what clowning should be… which brings me to my slight negative was there was (on the day I went) no custard pies.

Go for the clowns, stay for the support cast. Get your coats on and see this.

‘Window Seat’ (Venue 29, until AUG 24th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“As Trix, Helen Rose Hampton puts the slightest of American spins on this very English two-handeer.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

“It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on Earth has ever produced the phrase, ‘as pretty as an airport. ‘ Airports are ugly. Some are very ugly. Some attain a degree of ugliness that can only be the result of a special effort.” Air travel is neither glamorous nor relaxing. It’s an endurance test – travelling with family doubly so.

Cleopatra Coleman’s script features a mother and daughter grounded on a flight to Florence. The contrast between the romance of the intended destination and the utilitarian claustrophobia of the present is the first of several carefully choreographed juxtapositions which keep this thoughtful and elegant script briskly moving even as not a lot of anything actually happens. Trix, the mother, has a past she wants to share. Like the Via di Francesco that she once traversed, this journey into her past will open up new vistas and perspectives of understanding for her daughter, Lois, who is struggling with the inertia of life post-graduation.

As Trix, Helen Rose Hampton puts the slightest of American spins on this very English two-handeer. Rose Hampton inhabits the part honestly and sincerely. Her authenticity is the confident choice of a classical dab hand and the key that unlocks the depths of this smart funny drama. Coleman’s direction is to still but not to silence Trix’s Eddie and Patsy incline. Instead, the focus is kept on the character’s abiding maternal bond rather than milking her bold and brassy personality for easy laughs.

As Lois, Maud May is an ideal counterweight. She’s equally poised and self-possessed. It’s the carefully curated contrasts which make Trix and Lois’ similarities shine through with the crystal clarity of dawn’s first light caressing the Arno. Louis could have been presented as a brattish nag. May does something smarter, picking up and picking out her character’s qualities, many of which (we can assume) have been natured or nurtured from Trix.

There is conflict. There is tension. There is uncertainty. There are geese on the runway. Here is a cracking script crackling with craic. It’s storytelling done right. An auld skool kitchen sink drama cross-checked by a one plus one equals five performance by two assured and assuredly most talented actors. Cleopatra Coleman is cleared for take off as a writer to watch out for.

Get your raincoats on (there’s a thunderstorm predicted for Tuscany today) and go see this!

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘Doktor Kaboom: Man of Science!’ (Venue 33, until AUG 26th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“It is hilarious!!! I hope that I will be able to go every singe fringe.”

Editorial Rating: 7 out of 5 Stars (Outstanding)

A year ago, and for only the second time in our history, GetYourCoatsOn crowned ‘Doktor Kaboom: Man of Science!’ with a 7 (out of 5) star rating. I wrote that, “Doktor Kaboom is enlightening Scotland’s capital with a show that promotes learning for learning’s sake and which demonstrates that science done proper is really, really fun. To the mix he’s added an essential and urgent parabasis about how vulnerable our kids’ mental health is and what can be done to strengthen it.”

So is this latest instalment equally groundbreaking, breathtaking, and memory-making? SPOILER ALERT! Yes, this is an act that is getting better, but no less bonkers, with age. If anything the opportunity to encounter so many young minds on tour across the US and further afield has underscored Herr Doktor’s sense of urgency about his mission.

Lockdown hurt. It hurt our pockets, it hurt our sociability, it hurt our kids. In the buildings around George Square and elsewhere, historians will debate the rights and wrongs, the pluses and the minuses of Lockdown. The future, as Prof. Tom Devine likes to quip, is not my area of expertise. What matters now is the present, and there is a clear and present danger that the impact of Lockdown on our kids is being globally underestimated. Their confidence in themselves is not what is was or what it could be. Enter Doktor Kaboom the greatest comic creation since Professor Proton.

Some of the demonstrations are familiar – the makeshift hovercraft made out of an auld poker table ridden by a kid holding the most powerful electric leafblower money can buy remains the absolute crowd-pleasing favourite. It’s the pickle light bulb that reduces Granny to a helpless heap, she hasn’t laughed so hard since the ‘Wonkey Donkey’ viral incident of ‘14. On the cab ride home she keeps muttering, “Want more light? Add more pickles!” and she’s off again.

In her EdFringe24 notebook, the one with an etching of David Hume and Benjamin Franklin walking up Arthur’s Seat on the cover, Daughter 1.0 (9yrs) wrote: “I went to Doktor Kaboom at eh edfringe we went there last time and had soooo mutch fun and this time it was even better!! I loved seeing the hover craft zooom across the stage and seeing a pickle-powered Light-bulb and failed-pie-tin-alien-invashion! But one of my favourite bits was seeing his head getting bigger and smaller when our brains play a trick on us. It is hilarious!!! I hope that I will be able to go every singe fringe.”

There is (still) no escaping the boorish charm, the refined mayhem, the high nutritional value of this brain-smart and heart-healthy show. If this production were a number it would be 73 “The Chuck Norris of Numbers?” “Ha! Chuck Norris wishes.” Do I miss the Wheel of Even More Science? Yes. Is one essential prop not set? Sure. Are there fewer demonstrations and is one slightly dampened by braided hair? A little. However, this to the gunnels packed hour remains the gold-pressed latinum standard before all which other kids shows must bow, tremble, and scrape. Ya? Ya!

Get your white tie and tailcoats on and go see this show deserving of a Nobel Prize in science education.

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘Holy Sh*t I Lived: A Solo Show’ (Venue 29, until AUG 25th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“Those little rubber duckies have significance, they are the cute lynchpin that holds the show together in an hour that rushes on by like a very fast thing going very fast.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars ( Outstanding)

Billed as “comedy (storytelling, improv)” here’s a cracking wee show that might better be described as “comedy (storytelling, sketch)”. Sketch comedy can be hit and miss. It’s unusual, especially later in a run, for all the performers to be firing on all cylinders and it’s not usual for one or two skits in a set always to fall short of the mark. So here’s a cracking wee show where our one comedian is most definitely fired up and ready to go and where every scene is a winner.

George C. Owens was born in Tulsa, attended Loyola University, Chicago and recently moved to L.A. His material is smart, funny, self-deprecating, and what you might call accessible high-brow. What makes this show stand-out from the EdFringe crowds of standups are his superbly contrived audience work at the bookends as well as the storytelling and life insights dotted throughout the show. Those little rubber duckies have significance, they are the cute lynchpin that holds the show together in an hour that rushes on by like a very fast thing going very fast. There’s this one bit with no spoons and no bells that has to be seen to be believed. 

From the moment Owens takes the stage his mastery of his craft is evident. What’s really chuffing impressive is that the data points from his improvised audience work stick in his little grey cells all the way to the end. Reflections on neurodivergence, idiosyncrasy, grief, follies, flaws and foibles are batted out of the park with that confident humility which is the mark of a solid left footing in Jesuit training.

A couple of centuries ago a bloke like Owens was probably to be found hiding out in a piteously uncomfortable priest hole in what’s now a stately National Trust country house. England’s Elizabeth I warned her northern neighbour, James VI, “suffer not such vipers as the Jesuits to inhabit your land”. Far be it from me to argue with Gloriana, but Scotland (and the world) needs comedy of the quality of Owens and that ain’t going to happen without a solid education, a talent for people, a disciplined memory, a message to share, and a passion to share it.

This show is a masterclass of live performance expertly scaffolded from the tech board by Sara Stock, moonlighting from her day job at Chicago’s prestigious Second City, as well as direction by Andel Sudik who has been performing and teaching sketch comedy plus improvisation for the last 10 years. There is no mystery as to why this show is so good. There is no better bang for your comedy buck this EdFringe. This show is quality.

Get your coats on and go see this!

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘Under Milk Wood’ (Venue 150, only AUG 14th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“Who but Guy Masterson could do unabridged justice to the 69 ebullient inhabitants of Dylan Thomas’ masterpiece?”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

Fringe history was made tonight. A milestone in the journey of the world’s greatest arts festival has been passed. There is a new towering landmark on the past horizon. Since 1947 creative people have been telling stories in venues big and small. The EICC is not a small venue and I have been on transoceanic flights with less comfortable seats. My date tells me that her ancestors’ ancestors owned a wine merchants on the site – perhaps they might have used the Victorian-era postbox on the street outside when its first coat of red paint was fresh. I wonder what those distant denizens of Edinburgh would make of EdFringe. Would they feel any sense of pride or ownership? Yes, I think they would have, if they could have seen the history that was made tonight.

Guy Masterson’s first landmark production was his 2003 smash hit ‘Twelve Angry Men’. It created ripples in the fabric of space-time, tugging at the cultural consciousness with a fresh reminder that EdFringe is a place where rising stars can go supernova. Even more importantly, Masterson’s 2019 success, ‘The Shark is Broken’, was possessed of sufficient momentum to escape the blackhole that was Lockdown and burst out over Broadway – raining down oodles of boxoffice cashish and critical acclaim in a then all-too-needed reminder that the arts are not peripheral, but essential to a good life on earth.

‘Under Milk Wood’ is a more personal, but no less monumental achievement. Who but Guy Masterson could do unabridged justice to the 69 ebullient inhabitants of Dylan Thomas’ masterpiece? First performed at EdFringe94, this epic recital has been performed over 2,000 times globally. Tonight the crowds have gathered to hear Captain Cat, Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard, Mr Pugh and Mrs Pugh and all the rest as they go about their extraordinarily ordinary day. Who but Guy Masterson could bring so much depth of feeling, so much animation, so much vim and vigour to the party? SPOILER ALERT: No one else could do this, it’s why the crowds have gathered in such numbers to witness this bardic quality swansong.

This performance was not without a lighting error and Farmer Watkins missed his cue, but these served the purpose of those deliberate tiny flaws in the pattern of a Persian carpet, which remind the viewer that total perfection is totally preserved to divinity. For all that Masterson is a big performer, he is too proud a Welshman ever once tp step into that limelight which properly belongs to Dylan Thomas alone. The poet is the star. Without scruples or diffidence, the artist on the stage is but a supporting artificer.

Here is a performance that could fit into any venue large or small from the backroom of an auld Edinburgh wine shop to a (slightly soulless) mega-venue in the same location. A chair, a set of pyjamas, some carefully choreographed lighting changes and a storied titan of storytelling who might have sat at the feet of blind Homer or his Brythonic counterparts. 

At EdFringe each line spoken, each show performed, each production staged is, in reality, as ephemeral as a summer sea mist. But a few, a very few, live on in our collective memory setting the standard for art and artistry for all time to come. Scotland’s cultural capital and the world capital of Fringe theatre are richer for the work of Guy Masterson a genuine legend in his own day.

Get your coats on and hold onto your hats. There’s even greater things to come.

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!

‘Rosie and Hugh’s Great Big Adventure’ (Venue 33, until AUG 18th)

Posted in 5*, EdFestivals 2024, Rated: Outstanding by

“Every time you think, “There’s no way she’s got more to bring” Ellis steps it up a gear.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars (Outstanding)

The songs of Nick Cope saved my life. OK, they didn’t save my life, but they did really help me. By the time Lockdown finally ended our relationship with Daughter 1.0’s school had finally broken down. Parked on a hill is not an instantly easy concept for us Cambridgeshire folk to grasp, but the handbrake was failing, the SLT was flailing, and the hopes for a better tomorrow were fading. We took the decision to follow other village families in search of a better fit at the new primary in the new town over the parish boundary. There was the usual bureaucratic kerfuffle but it all came right in the end. She would make the switch after the half-term holidays. Nothing left to do but walk her down to the cafe, buy her an ice cream, and tell her the news. There were tears. Mostly mine. A day or so before a Bedford pal had told me about a Nick Cope song that might make things just a little bit easier. SPOILER ALERT! It really did. Thank you Nick. It’s fair to say we had high expectations going into ‘Rosie and Hugh’s Great Big Adventure’. SPOILER ALERT! We were none of us disappointed.

We enter to find it’s the morning of the last day of the holidays and Rosie wants to make it massive. Rosie needs a massive distraction from the thing she doesn’t want to think about. Rosie talks through the adventuresome options with her BHF (Best Hedgehog Forever), Hugh. There’s loads of possibilities but it is the end of the summer and they’ve done most of them already. Then a lightning bulb sparks, what if they could make it so that it was the last day of the holidays… forever!

That would take a powerful magic. You’d need a witch for something like that. Do Rosie and Hugh know of any witches? What would the witch need to hold back time forever? The parameters for a pacy, smart, and captivating adventure are programmed into the navicom before an interstellar cast sends this exquisite production into hyperdrive.

In her EdFringe notebook, the one with a rusty robot on the cover, Daughter 1.0 (9yrs) wrote: “I went to Rosie and Hugh’s great big Adventiar Adventiaur. Adventieur Adventure. I really liked the singing the witch, and the dragon. The dragon rode a teeny tiny bike and was called Keith. (Keith did tap dancing) The funniest bit was the bit where Hugh had to cross the A32 but was very scared about crossing (don’t worry he was fine.) I also liked the bits where they sang Nick Cope’s songs.”

As Rosie, Alice Vilanculo is.. is… pls insert your own words here if you can find any that suitably adjectivate the feelings and the excitement generated across this packed house by her perfectly poised performance. I am genuinely lost for words. In a cast of heavyweights giving the most delicate of performances, Vilanculo shines like the star she is. Scott Brooks’ professional information states that his hair colour is dark brown, that his voice character is “assured” and that his voice quality is “deep” – no crap Cumberbatch. As the timorous and occasionally tetchy Hugh, Brooks is pitch-perfect. He really does have a properly lovely voice which he deploys alongside the full broadside weight of his growing professional reputation like Nelson pointing canon before his battle with the Nile – take that! you troublesome tributaries. Vilanculo and Brooks do justice to the quality of this Nick Cope / Victoria Saxton collaboration like Batman and Spiderman wearing powdered wigs and drinking auld Baileys in a high court.

Offue Okegbe and Andy Owens are the pommel of the piece, bringing balance and brilliance. Daughter 3.0 (2yrs) is particularly taken with Owens’ dragon wings while I am an unashamed Okegbe fanboy. If you hate talented people being really good at what they do, then these guys are going to bring you out in hives.

If Mary Poppins’ overnight bag – the one in which she keeps her favourite standing lamps – was an actor it would be Katy Ellis. Every time you think, “There’s no way she’s got more to bring” Ellis steps it up a gear. As Rosie’s down to Earth mum and as the not-as-scary-as-we-first-thought witch, Ellis is the corresponding grip, tang, shoulder, and écusson that allows this production to chop, dice, slice, and mince 60 minutes of stage traffic into an hour’s worth of unforgettable children’s theatre. Ellis is one to watch and is as watchable as rainbow waves splashing against a starlight shore. To say Ellis is talented would be like saying UK elections are always held on a Thursday. It goes without saying.

Any one of these actors would command a stage and a big box office return. Together they bend time and space. This is a production with more value than the New York Stock Exchange in which you’ll see more heart than cardiologist specialising in Blue Whales.

Put your brave face on. Get your coats on and go see this!

ALL our recent coverage? Click here!