Marc Oberon and Emily Yarrow—performing as The Oberons—don’t just present illusions; they craft a duet of mystery and music that feels like a shared hallucination.The Telepath and the Conjuror, staged at theSpace@Surgeon’s Hall for the 2025 Edinburgh Fringe, is a polished, emotionally resonant spectacle that blends sleight of hand, operatic vocals, and mind-reading with theatrical finesse.

Their origin story is pure Fringe romance: Oberon, a world champion magician with accolades from the Magic Castle, met Yarrow, a classically trained soprano with TV and film credits, while performing on a cruise ship. Spellbound by her voice, he proposed. Together, they created a show that’s equal parts cabaret, conjuring, and connection.

The performance opens with a levitating wand—twirling mid-air, untouched—before vanishing in a puff of disbelief. Silver balls multiply and vanish, cards appear on cue, and roses bloom from nowhere as Yarrow sings “La Vie en Rose” with haunting clarity. But it’s her mentalism that truly astonishes: blindfolded and upstage, she identifies audience members’ possessions with uncanny precision, predicting choices and revealing thoughts as if plucking them from the ether.

This is magic with narrative weight. Their chemistry—onstage and off—is palpable, and the structure mirrors their story: two soloists becoming a duo, each elevating the other. Yarrow’s vocals add emotional depth to Oberon’s illusions, while his tricks frame her telepathy as something transcendent. It’s not just “how did she do that?”—it’s “how did they make us feel this way?”

Accessible, family-friendly, and rich with audience participation,The Telepath and the Conjuror is a Fringe gem that invites you to suspend disbelief and lean into wonder. Whether you’re a seasoned magic fan or simply curious, this show delivers astonishment with elegance and heart.

Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp

If you’re craving a hearty dose of silliness, vocal prowess, and pirate-themed pandemonium,Pirates of the Aca-ribbean delivers a treasure chest of joy. Presented by Acadepitch, this a cappella supergroup of fewer than twenty performers sails through slapstick comedy, energetic choreography, and vocal acrobatics with infectious enthusiasm.

The plot—pirates versus army, with plenty of comic chaos—is pure Fringe fun. It’s not about narrative nuance; it’s about laughter, and the audience, spanning all ages, responded with delight. From groan-worthy puns to physical gags, the humour is broad and buoyant, anchored by strong soloists and tight ensemble harmonies.

What sets this show apart is its vocal versatility. The cast shifts effortlessly between group numbers and standout solos, blending musical theatre flair with pop-infused arrangements. Their choreography adds sparkle without overshadowing the vocals, and the cast’s chemistry radiates joy.

This is not highbrow satire—it’s a rollicking, family-friendly romp that knows exactly what it’s doing. If you missed it at the Fringe, keep an eye on Acadepitch’s Facebook page for future performances and updates. A must-see for anyone who wants to laugh, sing along, and maybe shout “Arrr!” with abandon.

Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp

Angus Munro doesn’t impersonate Sting—he honours him. InThe Story of Sting and The Police, Munro and his outstanding band deliver a heartfelt, high-energy tribute that charts the evolution of one of rock’s most genre-defying acts. From the raw pulse of The Police’s early days to Sting’s solo sophistication, this show is a love letter to musical innovation and emotional storytelling.

The Police, formed in 1977 by Andy Summers, Stewart Copeland, and Gordon “Sting” Sumner, fused jazz, reggae, punk, and new wave into a sound that defined a generation. Munro captures that spirit without mimicry, bringing his own charisma and a four-octave range to classics like “Roxanne,” “De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da,” and “Message in a Bottle.” The audience response is electric—singing, clapping, and one ecstatic fan leaping to her feet, arms raised in joy.

The show’s emotional arc deepens with a 12-minute mega mix of Sting’s solo hits, including “Fields of Gold” and “Every Breath You Take,” showcasing Munro’s vocal agility and reverence for the material2. A slide projector adds visual texture, tracing Sting’s journey from band frontman to global icon, and anchoring the music in lived experience.

Presented by Night Owl Shows, this production is more than nostalgia—it’s a dynamic retelling of a musical legacy. Munro’s performance has earned accolades at both the Adelaide and Edinburgh Fringes, and the show continues its tour with a date at Hever Festival Theatre on 28 September 2025.

For fans of Sting, The Police, or simply great live music, this is an unmissable celebration.

Check Night Owl Shows’tour datesfor upcoming performances.

Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp

Jasmine Alice channels the spirit, sound, and spectacle of Celine Dion with uncanny precision in this heartfelt tribute that had audiences singing, swaying, and shedding the occasional tear. From the opening bars of “My Heart Will Go On” to the soaring finale of “L’Hymne à L’Amour,” Jasmine doesn’t just impersonate—she embodies.

The setlist is a greatest-hits parade: “Power of Love,” “Think Twice,” and other fan favourites land with emotional weight and vocal power. But it’s the staging that elevates the experience. A slide projector chronicles Dion’s life—moments of triumph and heartbreak—culminating in a stirring visual of her singing from the Eiffel Tower at the 2024 Paris Olympics, mirrored live by Jasmine’s own rendition. It’s a clever, moving touch that deepens the tribute beyond mere mimicry.

Audience reactions speak volumes: clapping, dancing, and visible emotion throughout. Jasmine’s vocal control and stage presence make her a convincing stand-in, but it’s her sincerity that wins hearts. This isn’t just a tribute—it’s a celebration of resilience, artistry, and the joy of shared memory.

For die-hard Dion devotees and casual fans alike,Celine Dion Experience is a must-see. It’s not just nostalgia—it’s reverence, delivered with grace and gusto.

You can explore Jasmine Alice’s upcoming shows via herofficial site, and dive deeper into Celine Dion’s discography onCelineDion.com.

Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp

A Bad Taste Show serves up a riotous sketch comedy feast that’s equal parts irreverent, absurd, and unexpectedly sharp. With a cast of four—Jim Glaister, Corrinne Strickett, Poppy Lowles, and Aaron “Skip” Bartlett—the show barrels through a buffet of characters, from despair-shop clerks to dominatrix parents, each sketch more unhinged and gleefully inappropriate than the last.

The writing is punchy and fast-paced, with standout moments like Glaister’s “despair shop” and Lowles’ Margarita Mum drawing belly laughs and audible gasps. Props are minimal, but the transformations are vivid—thanks to razor-sharp timing and physicality that keep the audience hooked.

It’s not for the faint of heart or the tastefully inclined. But if you’re craving comedy that’s bold, bizarre, and unashamedly messy, this is one to gorge on.

Reviewed by Maria Camara

InMy Favourite Loser, Abby Denton resurrects the dust-choked absurdity of the 1904 Olympic marathon and transforms it into a sharply observed, emotionally resonant hour of stand-up storytelling. Her subject—Felix Carvajal, a Cuban postman who ran the race in street clothes and nearly died of poisoned apples—is not just a historical footnote, but Denton’s unlikely hero. And by the end of the show, he might be yours too.

Denton’s comedic voice is dry, self-effacing, and quietly radical. She doesn’t just recount Carvajal’s misadventures; she interrogates the politics of failure, masculinity, and myth-making with a deftness that never feels didactic. Her delivery is conversational, almost conspiratorial, as if she’s letting the audience in on a secret history that’s been hiding in plain sight.

The show’s structure is loose but deliberate, looping through anecdotes, tangents, and personal reflections that mirror the chaotic spirit of the marathon itself. There’s a gentle melancholy beneath the humour—a recognition of how systems fail the most earnest among us, and how dignity can be found in the margins. Denton’s admiration for Carvajal is sincere, but never sentimental. She wants us to laugh, yes—but also to reconsider who we build statues for.

In a festival often dominated by bombast and bravado,My Favourite Loser is a quiet triumph: a love letter to the underdog, the overlooked, and the beautifully absurd. Denton doesn’t just tell us why Carvajal matters—she makes us feel it.

Reviewed by Maria Camara

Joni Mitchell: Take Me As I Am at the Edinburgh Fringe 2025 is a small marvel. Rainee Blake doesn’t just sing Joni—sheis Joni. She performs in character, speaking to us as if we’ve been invited into her home after a tour. There’s a wry, playful sense of humour in the way she tells stories, teasing the audience, laughing at herself, and sharing secrets that feel half-confessed. It’s intimate, and it works.

I went in only knowing a few songs—Big Yellow Taxi andBoth Sides Now. Both were delivered with warmth and beauty, reminding me why they became classics. But it was the lesser-known songs that surprised me.Coyote andWoodstock felt alive, urgent, and new. Blake’s voice, tuned to Joni’s strange chords, carried the ache of longing and the restless energy of the road.

What impressed me most was the honesty. No attempt at polish or distance—just raw storytelling woven through song. At times it felt like time travel, the room holding its breath as she played. It’s rare at the Fringe to find something this still, this sure of itself.Take Me As I Am is not a tribute—it’s a meeting with Joni Mitchell in her prime.

Reviewed By Pat Harrington

More information and ticketshere

The stage adaptation based on Knut Hamsun’sHunger is a raw, unrelenting descent into the mind of a man undone by poverty and obsession. From the opening moments, where the Writer looks back at Oslo (then Kristiania) as he sails for England, the production plants us in the uneasy space between memory and creation. What unfolds is not simply the story of physical hunger, though that is always present, but the spiritual hunger of a man who longs to transform the chaos of his suffering into literature. This tension between torment and creativity drives the piece forward, and the audience is asked to endure the same turbulence of mind and body as the Writer himself.

Roland Reynolds takes on the role of the Writer, and his performance is nothing short of magnetic. He begins with energy and confidence, full of the hopeful arrogance of youth, but as hunger and humiliation corrode his spirit, we see him unravel with painful precision. Reynolds gives us a man torn between lofty artistic dreams and the cruel demands of survival, and he makes the audience feel every pang of his descent. Around him, Zaza Bagley, Angel Lopez-Silva, and Anastasiya Zinovieva each step into multiple characters with fluid ease. At times comic, at others brutal, they shape the shifting landscape through which the Writer stumbles—landladies, sailors, strangers, and the enigmatic Ylajali all appear and vanish in their hands, adding to the hallucinatory feel of the piece.

Visually and physically, the production is relentless. Movement is choreographed to reflect the pulse of a restless city and the jolts of a nervous system under siege. At times the stage feels like a crowded street, full of noise and agitation, and at other moments it collapses into stark silence and stillness, a reflection of the Writer’s isolation. Lighting and sound deepen the hallucinatory quality, sometimes overwhelming in their intensity, at other times fading into shadow as the character drifts further from reality. The piece offers no easy relief or moments of sentimentality; instead, it insists on immersing the audience in the exhausting repetition of despair, humiliation, and fleeting hope that defines the Writer’s days.

What gives the production its force is its absolute refusal to soften the source material. This is not an easy watch, nor is it designed to be. It is as if the audience is being asked to inhabit hunger itself: the gnawing absence, the disorientation, the obsession with scraps of food or words or moments of connection that quickly turn sour. That relentlessness is both the production’s greatest strength and, at times, its weakness. Some might long for a pause, a breath, a moment of counterpoint that never comes. Yet to insert such relief might betray the integrity of Hamsun’s vision, which is about the endurance of suffering without escape.

There is, too, an unease that hangs over the work because of Hamsun himself. His later support for fascism and Nazism casts a long shadow, and the adaptation does not explicitly engage with that fact. For some, this absence may feel like a glaring omission. But perhaps the choice is deliberate: to focus solely on the psychological terrain ofHunger, rather than the politics of its author. The result is a piece that remains faithful to the original novel’s intensity while leaving the ethical questions hovering unspoken in the background.

In the end,Hunger is both a brutal endurance test and a strangely exhilarating work of theatre. It strips away comfort, forcing the audience to confront the raw edges of desperation and the dangerous allure of artistic obsession. Reynolds holds the stage with a performance of fragile brilliance, while Bagley, Lopez-Silva and Zinovieva conjure a city that both feeds on him and reflects his collapse. Watching it is not a pleasant experience, but it is a powerful one, and it lingers long after the lights fade. As if to underline that impact, Richard Demarco himself was in the audience, shouting“Bravo!” at the end—a fitting endorsement from a man who has championed challenging art for decades. It is a mirror held up to anyone who has ever felt unseen, unwanted, or consumed by the need to create, and it leaves you shaken by its honesty.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

More information and ticketshere

Read an interview with Roland Reynoldshere

Angus Munro brings real energy and warmth to The Billy Joel Story at theSpace @ Symposium Hall. From the moment he sits at the piano, you know you’re in for something special. He doesn’t just sing the songs; he lives them, and the outstanding musicians around him give the music a full, rich life on stage.

The show is more than a tribute concert. It tells Joel’s story, weaving together music, slides, and anecdotes in a way that makes you feel close to the man behind the songs. We see glimpses of his early days in piano bars, the rise to fame, and the personal stories that inspired classics like “Piano Man,” “Just the Way You Are,” and “Uptown Girl.” These touches make the evening both entertaining and informative, giving the audience the sense of a journey as well as a performance.

The musicianship is outstanding. Every note feels sharp and alive. The drums drive the beat, the guitars add colour, and the piano riffs drop you right into Joel’s world. Angus Munro proves himself to be not just a singer but a gifted all-round performer. His piano and saxophone solos echo the originals yet have his own style. There is humour and warmth in his storytelling, and his voice has both the power and tenderness needed to carry songs that millions know by heart.

What makes the show so enjoyable is its atmosphere. The audience can’t help but sing along, tapping feet and smiling as hit after hit rolls out. It’s joyful, uplifting, and full of life. By the end you feel lighter, happier, carried along by the music and the story. It’s a reminder of how much Billy Joel’s work still means to people and why his songs have stood the test of time.

This is not a show to miss. If you want to feel happy, uplifted, joyful, then The Billy Joel Story will give you just that.

Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp

The Carole King and James Taylor Story is a joyous ride through music and friendship.

Hannah Richards sings Carole King with warmth and clarity. Will Sharp brings calm, soulful energy as James Taylor. Their voices blend but stay true to their characters. The song choices are inspired. King’s “I Feel the Earth Move,” “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman,” and “You’ve Got a Friend” sit perfectly alongside Taylor’s “Fire and Rain” and “Sweet Baby James.” Each one is introduced with a story or an image, so you feel the life behind the lyric. The slide projector adds to this, showing moments from their journeys that make the songs hit even harder.

The audience can’t help but join in. There’s clapping, humming, singing. The atmosphere is easy and warm, more like a gathering than a concert. It isn’t just a set list—it’s a journey through memory and melody. You leave with a smile, a heart full of joy, and one of those timeless songs echoing in your head. This is a must-see at the Fringe.

Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp

More information and ticketshere