We’re all familiar with tales of Knights, pulling swords from stones, their round tables, lots of chainmail. But have you heard about the one with the horse?

Madeleine Rowe brings back their one person production of Knight, Knight; an outlandish and hilarious tale of a Knight, his quest to become King, marry, have an heir and fight for his kingdom. However, the crux of this tale is – he’s in love with his horse.

Bizarre as it sounds, Rowe has created not only an obscenely funny narrative but conducts it with precision. Using very purposeful and calculated miming, movement and audience participation, they are able to evoke consistent giggling from us with just how bizarre but hilarious this performance is.

We only find out at the end that Rowe isn’t British at all. With this very posh and English accent, they fool us but over exaggerate and blur words, very “toff” like and this is endlessly funny.

They engage with us throughout and does brilliantly with improv on our ludicrous suggestions and off-script guidance. Their main source of comedy is repeated gestures, simple yet effective moments, such as trying and failing for a long time to scabbard their sword, or a moment of evading the crown being put on their head with surprising flexibility. This simple slapstick is so ridiculous, we only find this more and more funny as time goes on. It almost becomes overly hysterical and we love it.

Knight, Knight is a totally bonkers and fantastically executed clown show, with nothing outlandish but well constructed slapstick and repeated comedy.

(3 / 5)

Think High School Musical meets Twilight and throw in a queer tilt to and I may present to you, Count Dykula.

With high production values, Count Dykula is the story of a loner lesbian vampire, who seeks to set the record straight for vampires everywhere and fight against the attempt to add a fluffy exterior around the monster/human dynamic, changing horror culture forever.

This threat comes from Scare University, run by a stereotypical lesbian vampire headteacher who fully leans into this with large breasts and a siren-esque facade before biting your neck. Throughout the Count’s journey, she comes across many monsters, merged with Americanised stereotypes, such as werewolf football jocks and zombie cheerleaders. These provide endless comedy and are well performed throughout, with the help of changed costumes in quick succession and great character acting.

If this description fools you however, it is not one for the children. Some of the comedy is sought in queer references, lewd and sexualised jokes and this twist on the story makes it full of laughter but also very camp and adult. We laugh at the clever stereotype merging and the content that comes with it.

The production value themselves are perfection; with well constructed costumes, props and staging, it already feels like a firmly planted production. But this doesn’t let you miss out on jokes of reduced staging at fringe; audience members are brought up to act as a mirror or a wall or help with a wrestling ring rope and this interaction adds yet another layer to the comedy.

However, for me the merging of a school aesthetic with something else felt a little twee. While the production is clearly well invested in, from the fantastic professional performances and writing, all the way down to the costumes and props, it felt like something that had been done before and, while entirely enjoyable, it felt a bit of an overused approach. They do well to combat this with satirical pop culture referencing but it still feels a little over-done.

Count Dykula is a very enjoyable and well constructed production, with clever merging of different genres and themes, it is sadly something that feels a little over saturated in theatre.

(5 / 5)

Disclaimer before we begin: the star rating is in no way impacted by the fact I myself ended up being pulled up to “perform” in this show. If it was, it would certainly be at a 0!

Bouffon has to be one of my favourite theatre genres. If you’re unaware of what this is, this is “clowning” but more about the taboo side of society. The aim is to highlight themes, ideas, topics and be highly satirical about this. What I love is there seems to be more of this at fringe this year, and that can only be a great thing.

CVNT, with its highly coded title (not really) is all about empowerment, of taking back the reins of your life, yet still knowing that you aren’t a perfect person, as well as the taboo around female menstruation and female anatomy. A topic that even in 2025 there is a struggle and a taboo around discussing openly.

Sophie Power immediately enters the stage after creating slow anticipation; singing slowly “Don’t you want me baby” as she plays with the nearest audience from behind a curtain, she begins to add a level of fear and nervousness amongst us. Revealing herself, in true bouffon form, she is dressed head to toe in shades of red and pink tulle, silky gloves with sharp nails (reminiscent of HIM from the Powerpuff Girls) with only her face on display that contorts and plays with us. This is somehow threatening but also inviting and creates much confusion.

Audience participation is at its top in this – we laugh, we are shocked, we are surprised, we are confused all in unison but somehow, Power creates a really powerful union within us. We root for each other but also laugh. Some participation is vulnerability and taking that power back, some is an anatomy lesson, some are “party games” and, in my case, the chance to blow the dust off my own bouffon days (and poorly may I add!). But for once, no one is reluctant. Despite this foreboding figure, we trust them and this helps in luring us into the hilarious, the shocking, the taboo and we accept that fully.

CVNT is a stroke of absolute genius in bouffon/clowning but isn’t for the faint hearted or the meek. Prepare to be fully thrown into the obscene, the madness, the chaotic but laugh so unbelievably hard for the entire thing.

(3 / 5)

Think highly British, camp, Miss Congeniality style show case and you get Miss Brexit.

Maria Who? have approached the vote to leave in play form, bringing the liberal view point (well placed in an arts festival) to the forefront, by using comedy and good old fashioned British take-the-mick humour. We, as active participants, join the performers to decide the winner of the contestants to be allowed to stay in the country. We meet four contestants from varying countries, as they try to assimilate in contest-style scenes to British customs, tell us their tales of why they came to the UK and their experiences, and based on this, we make the tough decision who to stay and who to deport. 

Miss Brexit is highly satirical, with contests such as answering genuine questions on the citizenship test which are hard even for a born and bred British person. They provide sarcastic views on British stereotypes such as pouring tea correctly and we are forced to not only agree with how ridiculous the situation is but also how ridiculous we are as a country. 

Our compere is full of energy, quick off the mark with great improv skills and provides much comedy in their performance. Our contestants are notably performantive (think pageant performer style) but at times this feels too hammed up and a bit over the top though their improv skills with us audience members is top notch. 

The narratives are very clever and do well to evoke emotion and complicated feelings, whether it be a positive or a negative story. But they also show varying degrees and moments of resonation; moving to London alone, not only for those who come outside the UK but inside as well is easy to recognise, with the high rental rate and probability of moving in with 5 others to keep the rent down. 

Accompanying the show is awesome background music, giving an impression of Rupaul’s drag race meets Miss Congeniality, changing to fit the character and story of the time, evoking a feeling of their culture. The screen behind helps set scenes, with boarding cards when deported to the logo of the contest. 

Miss Brexit is a unique and interesting take on political and social commentary but felt some distance from a higher starred production.

(3 / 5)

Bitch is a one woman show on a story of finding oneself, of conforming to the norm and this leading to sexual assault. In this production Marty Breen plays multiple roles, showing the sides from all parties in quick change, punctuating it with original music in order to tell a story. 

If you were heavily on Tik Tok (and, embarrassingly I was) during the covid years, it was discovered that certain colours will appear in different coloured lighting. Breen uses this to their advantage, to keep this cabaret club aesthetic but to be able to change characters; by using this theory of colour between their make up and the studio lights, and the addition of key character costume items, they change from male to female (creating a beard and soon being able to transition to female with feminine make up styles) in a quick succession. With this, we are told the story from both sides, with almost stereotypical characters; the man is a stand up comic, and one that is infuriating and Breen approaches this is a sufficiently misogynist way, with commentary that women often hear from cis males on their looks and how they approach life. The female is more complex and within this, as well as the sexual assault, goes on a  journey of discovery and themselves. We actively see them change in persona pre and after the assault, and post assault, isn’t pretty. It takes a dark and uncomfortable approach, not the usual approach of playing the pitied victim but actively noting the imperfectness that can come of trauma. 

Breen peppers this with playing the piano and singing their own compositions to bring the piece together. There’s a TIm Minchin meets Sara Bareillas aesthetic to this, but becomes more complex and breaks down to reflect the story. They are moving, beautifully written and show clear talent in not only creation but performance. 

While this was all an intriguing and interesting approach to a story on sexual assault and identity, particularly with making us not feel completely sorry for the main female due to their trauma and showing another reality of trauma effects, it felt very one noted. The switching between the two characters started as a novelty, but we soon realised that this was the whole pattern and it needed something more to break up the monotony. 

Bitch is a clever and interesting production but sadly falls short in keeping our attention when the narrative sticks to one level throughout.

(4 / 5)

From the creator of Steve Porters (lock up your daughters), comes the shift-shaping, comic drag king that is Daisy Doris May. May this time brings their 3 iconic characters into one Big Night Out. What ensues is chaos, comedy and a whole lot of fun.

Daisy Doris May: Big Night Out creates a linear story-line, featuring their three main characters, who tie together (loosely) in a club. We are instantly part of the action, with Hans Off, the first character, entering the back, through the cabaret seating, setting the scene of a Berghain, cool, exclusive club queue where we are based. Audience participation is a must, and interactions early on form the basis of many plot points throughout the entire night.

Hans is cool, chic, pulling on the cool aesthetic that Berlin has in its queer and electronic communities, and we are quickly made fun of, lovably, for not being this way. The costumes and drag is on point, and the breaking into dancing and lip syncing drives up huge cheering and dancing.

When Hans enters the club, they bump into someone whose “hair cut scares” them, and out comes our next character, in a almost Olympic change of costume. Karen Moonstone is a caricature of both “Karen” culture, where she complains and gives 1 stars for everything and the hippy, yoga community. The blend of these are so opposite but they make it work which only continues to elevate and increase the actual belly laughs. Audience interaction it also increased, and the novelty and improvisation from the audience only adds to the comedic delivery. May has moments of being caught off guard, but, that’s not a criticism. They recover quickly and add this into their performance with ease, continuing to add to the hilarity.

And finally, Steve Porters, our sad love expert joins us, as we begin the stag do. Steve Porters comes from May’s previous shows and therefore has a cult following. Shouting of phrases known from this character are bellowed out, with more audience participation that reaches a peak in the fantastic; a flamboyant “groom” who almost could upstage May, they harness these moments to only continue to create such a fun and mad show.

Daisy Doris May: Big Night Out, is what it says on the tin – a Big and hilarious Night Out. Expect to be a huge part of the fun, but don’t be mad, because it is so enjoyable, you will soon become a convert to audience participation.