PICKLED REPUBLIC
Edinburgh Festival Fringe
★★★
“a promising beginning for an artist who has found a whole new world to explore on stage”
Ruxy Cantir’s Pickled Republic is a one woman show celebrating pickled vegetables. Or it would be a celebration, if these vegetables were not overly ripe, deep in bubbling brine, and full of existential angst. Playing at the Anatomy Lecture Theatre in Summerhall, this piece is a quirky offering that will have you questioning all you thought you knew about vegetable life, and yes, the process of pickling.
Pickled Republic is not just about anthropomorphized vegetables, though. Part cabaret, part mime, and part puppetry, Cantir’s show defies easy definition. She begins by introducing us to a tomato in the process of collapsing in on itself as it waits in futility for a hand to reach into the pickling jar. The tomato knows that this is its last chance to be eaten and have a chance at passing its genes along. When we’ve stopped laughing at the absurdity of all this, we realize there is much that is disquieting as well. (Cantir’s tomato costume, and the way she substitutes her legs for hands has to be seen to be believed.) As anyone who has pickled in the past knows, trying to pickle a soft vegetable like a tomato is a very bad idea. Cantir’s monologue plays out against a soundtrack of bubbling brine, and other, more sinister sounds. I’m sure most of us must be thinking about botulism at this point. We all know that hand is never going anywhere near the pickle jar. The poor tomato knows it too.
From tomatoes, Cantir deftly changes into a cabaret singer (lyrics John Kielty) in a sparkling dress, with a potato head. Seriously. With a suitably gravelly voice, lots of jokes about eyes, and lots of audience “eye” contact as well, this potato can sing, and has va-voom to spare. Then it’s the turn of an onion poet at a poetry slam, full of layers, naturally. We move from onions to an overly proud mama carrot showing off her baby carrot. Turns out the baby’s a poet too, but his poem “does not end well.” There are a couple more cabaret acts featuring a dancing cucumber, and then more tomatoes. Pickled Republic does not seem to like tomatoes very much, but then we all have vegetables (or fruits, I guess) that we love to hate.
There’s lots of inventiveness in this show, and Cantir works hard with her performance skills and audience engagement. The costume design, the lighting and the sound track that accompanies this sixty minute show are nicely managed. But at best this is a series of clever skits about vegetables. The deeper questions about vegetable life in the pickle jar go unanswered, and an opportunity for a narrative arc that holds it all together is lost. But it’s a promising beginning for an artist who has found a whole new world to explore on stage. I feel sure that there will be many vegetables in Cantir’s future, clamouring for their moment in the spotlight, whether pickled or not.
PICKLED REPUBLIC
Edinburgh Festival Fringe
Reviewed on 4th August 2025 at Anatomy Lecture Theatre at Summerhall
by Dominica Plummer
Photography by Andy Catlin
