Tag Archives: Edinburgh Festival Fringe

MISS BREXIT

★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

MISS BREXIT

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★

“well worth a watch for its strong performers”

In Miss Brexit, four Europeans compete to gain the leave to remain in an absurd pageant that sees the contestants attempt to assimilate to British culture. By the end of the show, three Europeans have been deported, while one is crowned Miss Brexit.

George Berry is the MC of this bizarre circus, bringing impressive physicality and energy to the role. Among the contestants, Miss Switzerland (Maxence Marmy) stands out for her impressive vocals. Meanwhile, Miss Catalonia (Alba Villaitodo) steals every scene she’s in with her unabashed commitment to the over-the-top comedic acting the tone of the show commands, which some of the other performers lack at times. The contestants’ shiny leotards (from costume designer Olga Ntenta) really add to the absurdity of the show, though I wish Berry’s showman had been given something a tad more ‘British’ to wear. By contrast, the stage was empty bar a projector screen, a bareness I found jarring when compared to the performers’ decked out do’s. Although the projected images (by Pablo Fernández Baz) work well, I wish directors Amaia Mugica and Alejandro Postigo had chosen for a slightly more elaborate set.

Each of the contestants, in their plea to stay in the country, tells the story of how they immigrated to the UK. The recurring references to ‘dreaming of being a performer’ make me think these stories have some semblance to the actors’ own lives, which is a nice touch. Additionally, some of the songs (by Harvey Cartlidge & Tom Cagnoni) are sung in a contestant’s native language. This makes for a heartwarming celebration of diversity in a show about conformity and xenophobia, though it’s unfortunate that the words are mostly lost on the audience.

By focusing on these personal stories, the show does lose some of its satirical punch: the issues the characters experience come to feel individual rather than structural. Slightly more focus on Brexit as a political and cultural event would have served this show well. One of my favourite moments was when the MC divided the audience up into chunks that represent how the UK public voted in that infamous 2016-referendum, allowing roughly a fourth of the audience (the percentage of Brits that actually voted to leave) to choose a representative to make the final decision. To me, the most chilling moment was when the elected spectator, a middle-aged Scot wearing a ‘Last Night the DJ Saved My Life’ t-shirt and a bucket hat, was encouraged to tell Miss Spain to ‘fuck off’, which he did with all his might. This very effectively cut through the silly, upbeat tone of the show, and I only wish there had been more of such uncomfortable moments, in which the audience is made complicit in the expulsion of these young and hopeful Continentals.

Not quite the unsparing satire ‘Miss Brexit’ set out to be, this show is well worth a watch for its strong performers and occasional bull’s-eye hits.



MISS BREXIT

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 15th August 2025 at Ermintrude at Underbelly, Bristo Square

by Lola Stakenburg

Photography by Jake Bush

 

 

 

 

 

MISS BREXIT

MISS BREXIT

MISS BREXIT

ME AND MY YEAR OF CASUAL MONASTICISM

★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

ME AND MY YEAR OF CASUAL MONASTICISM

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★

“The piece works neither as an intimate confessional monologue nor as a sharp comedy”

‘Me and My Year of Casual Monasticism’, written, directed, and performed by Emily Knutsson, is about a semi-autobiographical piece about a Cambridge University student who chooses to become celibate for a year. Inspired by the sixth-century Rules of Benedict, ‘Mary’ encounters a host of horny ‘fellow sexy monks’ (other students) whom she heroically wards off with her monasticism. As a Cambridge graduate who studied medieval and early modern history, I hoped I would love this show.

The tiny stage at Riddle’s Court hosts an armchair, some candles, a crucifix, and a projector: Mary tells the story as a pitch for a show. Knutsson is an engaging storyteller, but she seems self-aware and unsure of whether she is playing a character or not. It doesn’t help that she’s hiding behind the powerpoint, projected onto a screen behind Knutsson that she’s perpetually blocking. The ‘presentation’ keeps her in a one-note, upbeat TED-talk mode that leaves little space for vulnerability and thus variation. The issue originates from the script.

Ostensibly a comedic confessional piece, Knutsson does not ever allow her character to be uncomfortable, embarrassed, or indeed much other than the Hot Girl Who the Boys Want But Can’t Have. Mary tells us she has chosen to take a break from dating and sex after ‘a few traumatic weeks’ in the first term, which despite being the catalyst for her self-imposed celibacy are not elaborated upon. Additionally, something unpleasant/bad/shameful happened with her ex boyfriend, but what that was remains elusive. Every time Knutsson begins to mention sex, she (metaphorically) slaps herself on the wrist and swiftly moves on – rather surprising for a show that advertises itself as offering a ‘shockingly fresh and innovative approach to sex’.

If Mary’s actual life story remains underexamined, the same is true for her early medieval fantasy. The allegory between a Cambridge college and a monastery works well, precisely because various colleges (including my own, Magdalene) have monastic foundations. Many universities, including Oxford, originated as centres of monastic education. Highlighting the similarities between medieval monks and modern day students has theatrical potential, if only Knutsson had doubled down on her theme.

While the Rules of St Benedict form an effective narrative device that lends the show cohesion, their imagery and cultural context are underutilised. For example, it is striking that Knutsson completely omits a discussion of religion, of church-imposed sexual shame, and the concept of sin. Ecclesiastical imagery is infinitely rich, yet Knuttson does not take advantage. Given that Knutsson shies away from exposing too much detail about her/Mary’s life, it would have worked well to exaggerate her chosen allegory to the absurd. Where is the scene in which Mary takes a melodramatic vow of celibacy in her college chapel? The dramatic disposal of her collection of sex toys into the communal bins? And where is her goddamned monk costume, styled from her formal gown? (I jest, sort of…)

The piece works neither as an intimate confessional monologue nor as a sharp comedy. Inattentive to its historical references and shy of revealing personal details (real or fictional, I could care less), the script unfortunately falls flat. The story has potential; no doubt a second pair of eyes, perhaps in the form of a dramaturg or a director other than herself, would help to remedy some of these issues.



ME AND MY YEAR OF CASUAL MONASTICISM

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 15th August 2025 at Pickle Studio at Greenside @ Riddles Court

by Lola Stakenburg

 

 

 

 

 

ME AND MY YEAR

ME AND MY YEAR

ME AND MY YEAR