Fringe theatre reviews: boobytrapped | One Hundred Voices | Acid’s Reign | I Think I Hate Actors + more

boobytrapped | Contributed

boobytrapped ★ ★ ★ ★

Space 2 at theSpace on the Mile (Venue 39) until 29 August

Body swap rom-com boobytrapped jumps straight into the action. In a gay club, Simon (Freddie Haberfellner) and Kevin (Ermis Makides) make eyes at each other before what seems like a hook-up waiting to happen. When Kevin finds out Simon is trans, though, all bets are off – and an act of violence propels them into a journey of understanding themselves and each other.

Simon, now in Kevin’s body, enjoys being a cisgender man exempt from negotiating his right to exist; meanwhile, Kevin struggles to make sense of the distress caused by inhabiting a body that feels incongruent with who he is. What ensues is a classic bodyswap predicament: they just have to get through today’s social obligations before switching back.

Makides and Haberfellner shine as Kevin and Simon, both swapped and unswapped, complementing each other’s timing. A brilliant moment of nudity from Haberfellner, in particular, gets a laugh that seems to last minutes before dissolving into a sobering truth, while Makides holds back until both we – and Haberfellner – need him.

It is this balance of silliness and sincerity that makes boobytrapped so effective. Its bodyswap device can and does involve caricature, but the writing keeps the show grounded in the characters’ discomfort, curiosity and, ultimately, care for one another.

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Rejecting neat narratives and the temptation to rattle off salient but storyless points against transphobia, boobytrapped instead offers a reimagining of belonging. It suggests that we are all making and remaking our bodies within, and against, societal codes that can’t accommodate our deepest selves. Through Simon, the play shows how this process can tenderise us, inviting us to come more fully into ourselves – and towards each other. It’s a big undertaking for a small show, but boobytrapped meets it with wit, depth and a speculative glint towards what’s possible. Mika Morava

One Hundred Voices ★ ★ ★ ★

Scottish Parliament (Venue 511) until 28 August

Part installation, and part audio drama based on real-life conversations with a group of care-experienced people in Scotland, the National Theatre of Scotland’s One Hundred Voices is a show where the element of live theatre is created by the audience members themselves, as they make their way through this guided immersive experience.

In the main foyer of the Scottish Parliament, we pass – headphones in place – through a small door into a series of spaces, including a warm domestic hearthside in a foster home, an administrative office, and a kind of eternal waiting room with a bookshelf and vending machine, neither quite what they seem.

There are also dream-like spaces, one of them full of flashing lights, zigzag walls and deceiving mirrors, another offering a cosy refuge where our female narrator – a rebellious teenager in care, played by Genna Allan – can find some moments of contemplation and peace.

What we experience, though – driven along by the increasingly exasperated voice of Scott Kyle’s male narrator, a senior care worker – is the sense of absolute powerlessness of which care-experienced young people complain; the feeling of being caught up in a system that makes little sense, that is entangled in bureaucracy, that struggles even to keep siblings together when they need one another most, and that costs a fortune, while often failing to meet the most basic needs.

A running visual motif of the show is the warm pink winter jacket that our girl narrator longs for, but can somehow never have. And like every other detail of designer Karen Tennant’s beautifully crafted installation (with lighting by Kai Fischer, and sound by Niroshini Thambar), it lingers in the mind long after this 50-minute experience is over; both for its sense of being firmly rooted in the real life-stories that form the bedrock of this haunting work, and for all that it symbolises, in this creative distillation of the Caring Scotland project curated with love and anger, over the last three years, by lead artist Nicola McCartney and her NTS team. Joyce McMillan

Acid’s Reign ★ ★ ★ ★

Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) until 31 August

It is, as the commanding figure of Alex Acid herself explains, the queer drag climate-change musical that nobody asked for. If that particular niche combination has you scratching your head – well, Relish Theatre’s high-octane, in-your-face, careering juggernaut of songs and (surprisingly gentle) smut might well win you over. And yes, it makes a generally compelling case for queer activism being just the right vehicle for loud and proud climate change resistance.

The gloriously arch Alex Acid (Victoria Scone on wonderfully droll form) finds herself inadvertently caught up in a climate protest led by the assertive Ria Listic (a strutting Gigi Zahir), and the two hatch a plan to combine their talents in a queer eco-cabaret: Acid’s Reign. But when they’re about to hit the big time with a primetime chat show slot, will the machinations of scheming Dina Mite (Scarlett Harlett) mean they abandon their beliefs for fame and success?

What’s immediately striking is the sheer scale and ambition of Acid’s Reign, with a full staging, a live band (shame we never see them), big musical numbers (courtesy of Evie Fehilly and Gabriel Chernick), and above all, those magnificently flamboyant costumes (take a bow, Harry Whitfield). Performances are just as extravagant and whipcrack-smart as you could hope for: alongside Zahir’s uncanny impression of a certain Irish chatshow host, drag king Se Carr/Jamie Fuxx is even a little under-used with a single solo tap and song number that almost stops the show in its tracks.

The storyline is a little on the ho-hum side, and disappointingly, it barely dips its toes into the contentious waters of LGBTQ+ activism or climate resistance. Similarly, the characters themselves are only fully rounded by the end: earlier insights into their lives or motivations might have encouraged stronger emotional connections with them. Nonetheless, Acid’s Reign is a big, bold show that sweeps you up in its red-hot charisma and fierce energy. David Kettle

READ MORE: Fringe theatre reviews: Our Other Organ | Annie Wobbler... + more

I Think I Hate Actors ★ ★ ★

Just The Tonic at The Caves (Venue 88) until 30 August

Even actors hate actors, says Roo Sutcliffe, an actor, in this one-woman show that’s at times more stand-up. With a dad who’s in 4 Poofs and a Piano, a childhood spent at prestigious drama schools and a “quite nice life”, the show could best prove its point by being utterly insufferable. However, Roo is too good a writer and performer for that, giving characterful impressions of her contemporaries, tutors and industry professionals, some of whom might well be cackling in the front row.

With well-structured anecdotes and jokes that demonstrate that the degree in comedy from Bath Spa University has paid off the tribulations, acting and dance classes, being front-of-house at the Fringe and doing improv have their limitations. But they also clearly have an audience here at the festival. She’s a warm and likeable entertainer, with a kooky persona who wouldn’t be out of place in a TV sitcom, where she might well end up.

She’s also expert at observing the world around her with a likeable enthusiasm that transcends navel gazing. Hopefully one day she’ll enter an arena less close to home and have the opportunity to apply her talent to a more substantial subject (Phoebe Waller-Bridge is apparently waiting). In the meantime, she gets a lot of milage out of this one. Sally Stott

Diary of a Mad Man 2 stars

Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 31 August

This adaptation of Gogol’s short story is updated for the internet age when one person’s delusion can be amplified, validated and weaponised with frightening rapidity. Mark McAuley plays the paranoid and self-absorbed worker drone whose bogus rise and rapid fall is predicated on mistaking online popularity for suitability for office.

Racism and stalking can be added to his 21st century charge sheet and the discreditation of a rival colleague has eerie echoes of the fate of Jason Arday. However, McAuley’s own rather skittish and underpowered portrayal of the anti-hero falls short in capturing the handbrake turns of a racing mind. Fiona Shepherd

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