I was first introduced to Bibby’s comedy when he invited me to his Ed Fringe show back in 2019. Since, I have been an avid follower and fan of his comedy.

So when his invite for his new show came into my inbox, I was absolutely delighted, and even more so, when I saw what it was about… DINOSAURS. I mean, comedy… dinosaurs… what isn’t there to like?

Bibby’s show is about creating a show in between having two children. At the same time, it’s a time machine for us oldies who loved the original Jurassic Park and the 90’s. These seem like contrasting themes, but it works. The nostalgia, meeting the idea of ageing and new life. It all makes sense.

The main concept of the production is hugely involving the audience to create a version of the original film but in a 2023 setting. The millionaire is replaced by Elon Musk, our audience members jump in and out as on stage characters and… in themselves are hilarious and so engaged. We all have a chance to be involved, with queues to shout out and make noises but also with a script passed around to read when we are prompted. Bibby is hot on the responses and ad lib, and enjoys the improvisation and surprises that come from us as much as they come from him. There are some Jurassic Park lovers who clearly love the comedic approach as much as Bibby does, with his love and passion coming through with knowledge and performance.

We begin to think that this is a love letter to the end of his career. His love for his young family and being away from them is expressed, alongside gorgeous images of them and our heart sinks to think this is it, after an hour of pure joy. But, while partially scripted, I like to think our involvement and enthusiasm with said script helped to solidify how much Bibby should continue making these shows. Yes, the outcome is exactly this and the planned conclusion, but I hope our responses help to make it a reality.

Jurassic Park/Dinosaur/children-person or not, Baby Dinosaur is an absolute triumph of a comedy show, from how smooth it ran, to the right involvement of the audience, to constantly belly laughs. It’s everything you want from a comedy show and more.

(3 / 5)

As long as there are people on this Earth, we will forever be asking questions about William Shakespeare. So many schools of thought as to who he (she? they?) was, their sexuality, the in depth reading between the lines of their work.

Matchmaker Theatre Productions take the unwritten, from the point of view of Shakespeare supposed rival, Christopher Marlowe and unmasked another version of Shakespeare’s history.

A small company, we have the main performer who continues as Marlowe throughout, a ghostly figure who acts as the stage hand meet musical accompaniment and a character swapper who plays a student writing about Shakespeare vs Marlowe but also delves into other minor characters throughout. Of course, we also meet Shakespeare but to tell you more about them would ruin this really interesting approach to the story.

What’s great is that the company doesn’t shy away from LGBTQIA+ suggestions but also doesn’t make it such a big thing. We see Marlowe’s relationships but it’s just like any other and isn’t highlighted particularly as some revolutionary idea – which is exactly how it should be unless it is the main theme.

The changes of scene are shown between clicks of fingers and changes of lights, switching from situation to situation but also back to talk and review the news that has come to light with the student. This is a really interesting take and works very smoothly. Our ghostly figure, while in the background, is constantly “on” with facial expressions and interest in the scene – it really makes each scene well rounded.

For me, however, it felt like there was more to go with what they could achieve. This felt slightly in its infant stage and, while funny, professional and smooth, there is certainly some room for growth.

The Real Shakespeare… is an interesting approach to the age old questions about the playwright and their rival. However, there is great potential and it would be great to see where this company take it.

(3 / 5)

The best cabaret shows are never the huge, fancy venue-d spaces, where you are lost in the crowd and viewing from afar. The best are in small, intimate spaces and this is what Pink Lotus Cabaret brought us with Hot Queer Magic.

Just like any cabaret show, the production showcases different acts, all introduced with a little comedy and little storytelling in between. And this is of no exception. This means that there is no tie to a theme and it feels right to keep us on our toes this way.

Hot Queer Cabaret features a fairy burlesque act, a rubber ducked obsessed dominatrix act, Drag Kings dancing while making commentary on the patriarchy, a trans King and his maracas and a combination of Indian Dance and Kylie, to name just a few. This eclectic mix is always a surprise and keeps the comedy and appreciation fresh each time.

While enjoyable and especially in such an intimate setting, the whole running felt a little lengthy and in need of some polishing. It felt as if there was a nervousness and it lead to the feeling that much, from the comparing to the acts, was a little created on the spot. Of course, things never go to plan, especially in cabaret but it all needed to be a little punchier. From my theatre training and my own cabaret training, it was instilled in me that making it punchy, prompt and polished, creates a much more finished product and keeps the audiences engaged and wanting more. Some of the acts felt quite long and sadly lost my attention at times. This could be entirely that with this instilled in me, that is my own subconscious reaction but at times, it felt that the whole production could be a little slicker.

Twatoo, the Drag King duo, were probably my favourite. Playing on toxic masculinity, they took Shania Twain and made the characters very camp. Interjected with voices from feminist icons in the shape of characters to real people, noting their achievements, followed by “that don’t impress me much” was endless comedy and poked fun at this type of chauvanism and our society.

It was also great to see Pink Lotus and her combination of traditional Indian dance with burlesque. This combination was something I had never seen and, with a little more honing, is a really unique and beautiful concept.

Hot Queer Magic was fun, full of diverse acts and people and was a fun evening. With practice and time, I’m sure this collective will create a very confident and smooth running show.

(5 / 5)

The title might be a little misleading. If you are reading this and you think: I’m taken, why would I need to learn how to flirt? Well, my friend, this show is for everyone in every status, of every gender, every age – everyone.

How to Flirt is a satirical seminar from the Drag King, Steve Porters. We are taken through a casual lecture, using the acrostic of “BIRDS” to deliver the best way to get your next partner. Full of dancing, puns, comedy, music and projection, this all rounder show is comical but full of importance.

Steve is what can be described, by today’s youth, as a wannabe “Roadman” or, from back in my day, a “Chav”. Featuring all the physical characteristics of Drag Kings, the make up is impeccable, giving the illusion of masculine features, a body suit to give the illusion of a male torso and general mannerisms and movement to suggest something stereotypical male. The funny thing is, Steve is meant to be a satirical copy of one of those men who think chat up lines work, but yet he still has charisma and a way of flirting with the ladies of the audience. I am only sad that he didn’t deem me attractive enough for a flirt – big thumbs down!

How to Flirt is full of audience participation, but a late night at Fringe is certainly not lacking in this. We are asked to engage, repeat chants, encouraged to talk to one another and it becomes riotous and raucous in just the right amount. We may not always feel the power of Steve’s flirt directly on us, but in a crowd of around 100, we all feel individual and like one of his mates.

The whole production is a painful belly laugh after belly laugh. It plays on the bad dates, on the stories told from dating apps and meeting strange people and plays on the awkwardness between Steve and the audience. Steve is full of confidence and is professional, slick and perfect in every single way.

The production is so well constructed, including any ad libs or improv that are so smooth that you barely notice them. It was a show that I never wanted to leave but sadly, all good things do.

And don’t think that this was just comedy – oh no. There were really important points touched upon. Steve takes these types of men and highlights situations that are creepy, insulting, issues of sexual assault and ensures that, through the laughter, this is clearly a political and feminist show touching on our societal issues. Steve highlights consent a lot, and this is important and meeting modern ideals. It makes it clear that this is non-negotiable in our world.

How to Flirt: The TED XXX Talk is comedy gold, but amongst this, Steve Porters has made strong, concrete feminist comments on today’s chauvinist societal issues.

(5 / 5)

Sometimes I’m a real easy sell. Give me some impressive puppetry, and I’m sold. But what I got from Bill’s 44th, was something else.

Bill’s 44th is a comical play about age. Bill is throwing himself a party and eagerly awaiting his guests. But when no one shows, he goes through a number of different emotions from sadness, to making the best of things, to drunk and high and reflection.

Bill is a puppet. He is orchestrated by two puppeteers, moving his torso, arms and head but legs and hands are from the puppeteers. Their faces are visible behind Bill but you forget almost instantly that they are there. Their movements, and movements from other puppeteers throughout as so smooth and precise that you very much forget actual humans are on stage.

There is sound and music but no talking; all the action and emotion is conveyed easily through Bill and we understand instantly. To get these across, movement and gestures are exaggerated but it didn’t feel false and very much as if we were breaking down the fourth wall.

Bill reminded me very much of a puppet version of Mr Bean; we can tell exactly what he is thinking, feeling and doing just by movements and gesture alone. Facial expressions, you’d think, would be vacant from a puppet with no eyes or general facial movement, but, somehow, he manages them. Call it talent of the puppeteers/creators, call it our imagination, call it both.

Bill’s journey is nothing short of a emotional roller coaster. We are excited, then we are sad; he makes the most of the situation and we laugh again, to suddenly fearing the dark emotions on stage and sadness at Bill’s reflection, to leaving in elation. We see a scene where we are moved through Bill’s life, birthday to birthday through a miniature version of him, where you begin to see his loneliness with age – something we may all experience. For a puppet, I felt extraordinary sadness for him and pure happiness when he in the end accepts himself and becomes his own friend.

Bill goes through a drunken, high moment, with walls becoming puppetry and moving in a sliding motion; balloons become people that destroy his house and make-out in the back; his crudite carrot becomes life-size. It is such an adventure, heightening all your feelings and making you fully belly laugh until you ache.

Bill’s 44th is so stupid – in a brilliant, hilarious way. It is stupid in the clever, comedic way – the way The Mighty Boosh, Mr Bean, Blackadder are all just silly, silly comedy. But it is also dark in places. It is also poignant and emotional. It is an all rounder. My favourite comment from the man next to me was “What the f did I just watch?” through tears and laughter – I missed a chance to tell him, “You, Sir, just watched pure perfection and genius”.

(4 / 5)

Everyone goes through that moment in life, whether triggered by something specific and significant, leaving for University or getting your first job as an adult; flying the nest can be hard but also very exciting.

Almost Adult takes this, based on the real life experiences of the writer, and runs with the idea. Our main and only performer decides its time to become an adult and moves from the rural north to the big smoke of London. Every approach she takes is positive; new job in an immersive bar, box room with a particularly anal housemate and the search for a boyfriend like Timothee Chalamet. Everything is positive, until it is not.

Almost Adult faces the two sides of growing up; the excitement of new things and independence but also the reality of life and how hard it can be. Our character wants to not hold hands with her family and distances herself, until things turn south and she realises that being an adult doesn’t mean not asking for help. At her job, a once golden paved bar floor with dinosaur dressed workers becomes a seedy, patriarchal power trip, where sexual assault is rife from her boss. Her flat mate is maybe over clean and stressed about this but our character doesn’t have the time for the boring parts of adulthood until she accepts her own flaws and laziness.

She’s enjoyable, she dances and has a laugh with us; her impressions of different characters are clear she brings us further into the story by interaction. All the issues culminate and we see a bubbly, positive person unmasked from seeing the reality of modern day life. From a cushy, middle class family, protected from the storm, when her leg is touched by her manager, her colleague is further sexually assaulted and the female CEO won’t help, she soon realises that the feminist movement hasn’t solved the world’s problems and that there are still there, if not more.

The production felt very poignant about the realities of adulthood and life. As someone who moved alone for university and then to live in London 12 years ago, I still remember that feeling of sheer excitement to break free and be my own person but the trepidation and fear of this. I forever tried to ensure my outlook was positive, but the home sickness, some realities (though I maybe wasn’t as naive as this character in some respects) and hardness of adulthood slowly crept up on me.

With many stories from Sarah Everard, to the Me Too movement, women are sexually assaulted almost daily. It isn’t uncommon to think that with how open feminism is in the world, that things should be different. But they aren’t and it’s interesting to see the character’s turmoil with her gut feelings when her boss touches her leg compared to the more explicit assault of her colleague. And she makes excuses, as we all do, thinking that her feelings are not justified. When she is asked if she asked him to stop, this seems like the crux of the situation and the expectation is high in her to have fixed the issue. This production hits home to many on lots of different levels and that’s what makes it such a great piece.

Almost Adult is funny, it is quirky and it is endearing. But this doesn’t take away from the important issues that are never solved for women and how our eagerness as children to become an adult come from its realities which are shrouded.