★★★★★

“this camp, fairy-tale romp of a show is going to be the best hour and fifteen of our day”

A cloud drifts across the stage. Six tall columns stand proud, with a scattering of shorter ones—Doric and Ionic, naturally—not a Corinthian in sight. The cloud becomes a marvellous projection surface, alive with images that reveal the inner thoughts and inner musings of this gloriously queer fantasia.

We begin with Beyoncé’s 2022 triumph—her Renaissance, the album that changed everything. And then, we’re told, this show is about the other Renaissance. Of course.

Cue art history gags—the sort of jokes that send art historians into delighted squeals. Like how everyone “hates” Raphael (not true, of course, but who doesn’t enjoy taking potshots at the popular girls?). Our guides are the gay ghosts of the Italian Renaissance, and instantly we know: this camp, fairy-tale romp of a show is going to be the best hour and fifteen of our day.

Enter the brothers: Michelangelo and Leonardo. Yes, those guys—but here they are flaming, fabulous, and gloriously, unapologetically gay. Gay in both the homosexual sense and the whimsical, theatrical sense. Yet, in their time, love like theirs was forbidden. Cue a parade of songs so cheeky you can’t help but grin: mischievous “truths” such as the Mona Lisa being nothing more than a cute boyfriend in drag. When asked about new student orientation, the cast cracks: “heterosexual.” The show revels in falsification, camp exaggeration, and rewriting history with fabulous flair. And yes—there is a great Pope. Of course there is.

The scenic world of this piece is a clever use of tall and short columns, which shift and support the ever-morphing scenes. Michelangelo discovers a chisel, conjures the Pietà, finds a twenty-year-old block of marble, and miraculously liberates David from the stone. But in this work, what’s truly freed from the marble is love itself.

The message is simple, yet profound: we are all brothers, sisters, siblings, lovers, or none of the above, if we are aromantic, and that is okay, too. Whether we fall in love, never love, love differently, or love not at all, every expression—or non-expression—of love is vital. That is the rainbow light bathing the white columns. For it is not the pillars that hold this world aloft, but acceptance, love, and—let’s face it—talent.

There are moments when we must cry, “Pop off, Michelangelo!”

Moments when we must sculpt the seemingly unsculptable.

Moments when we ourselves must be freed from the rock—or pried away from the orgy.

And there are moments when chapels of acceptance are built not from stone, but from art and theatre. For theatre has always done this: told whimsical, joyful stories that whisper—no, sing—to the world: it doesn’t matter what you are, or who you are. You are special. Especially if you are Marisa Tomei.

The cast is outstanding: Max Eade (Michelangelo), Aidan MacColl (Leonardo da Vinci), Michael Marouli (Pope), Laura Sillett (Savonarola), Kurrand Khand (Salai), Aoife Haakenson (Mother), and Sev Keoshgerian (Italian Chef).

The creatives are equally dazzling:

Dylan Marcaurele (Book, Music and Lyrics), Sundeep Saini (Choreographer & Intimacy Director), Emily Bestow (Costume Designer), Adam King (Lighting Designer), Joe McNeice, Emily Bestow & PJ McEvoy (Set Design), Joe McNeice (Director).

So don’t be a Pick-Me Girl. Pick this. Let it erase the homophobia of the past and remind us that love is only ever love. For love does not separate us—it connects us. Or, at the very least, gets us through “ten years of art therapy.”

HOLD ON TO YOUR BUTTS

Arcola Theatre

★★★★

“Although lacking the traditional sleigh bells and Santa, it does have sufficient nostalgia, silliness and giggles to fill a panto-shaped hole”

In case you’re wondering, “Hold on to your butts” is a line from Samuel L Jackson as he is about to reboot the computer systems of Jurassic Park in the 1993 ground-breaking monster flick.

It’s a terrible title for a fun evening but, I suppose, theatre company Recent Cutbacks can’t stick “Jurassic Park” anywhere near the poster for legal reasons.

But the copyright holders need not fear for their intellectual property. It’s in safe hands. This madcap shot-for-shot re-creation of the mega-dinosaur smash is made by people who adore the movie. And love movie-making.

It’s 10 years since this slick whistlestop tribute opened in New York City, later wowing crowds at the Edinburgh Fringe and now setting up at the Arcola under the direction of Kristin McCarthy Parker. Although lacking the traditional sleigh bells and Santa, it does have sufficient nostalgia, silliness and giggles to fill a panto-shaped hole.

This production takes you back. Not just to Steven Spielberg’s genius film, but to your garage, or garden, or park. Where on a rainy Sunday, with nothing else to do and the wifi down, you and your mates stumble upon a cardboard box from Tesco which once held pineapples. The box becomes everything – castle, racing car, majestic pirate ship scything the seven seas…

Here, two performers and a sound artist perform a similar feat of ingenuity and imagination in this lo-fi, charming and very funny evocation of the original.

What’s that you say? A herd of serene brachiosaurus sweeping across the plains of Isla Nublar? Here you go. A mosquito trapped in a piece of amber? A barley sugar will suffice, no?

Performers Jack Baldwin and Laurence Pears tread the fine line between slavish adoration of the original and good-natured fanboy parody. On the sidelines, but equally a star, is foley artist Charlie Ives recreating T-Rex roars, rainstorms, computer beeps, creaking branches and everything else that helps make the fun funnier.

The humour is often of the Airplane! variety – aforementioned (pre-Pulp Fiction) Samuel L Jackson’s growing smoking habit an example – and much of the joy is in the anticipation, figuring out how two men and some props retrieved from a trash can are going to make a car fall through a tree, or create the tension of a raptor hunt. And there’s much humour to be mined in the script too – such as Jeff Goldblum’s wry “chaotician” delivering his memorable brow-knitted cod-philosophies studded with Pinteresque ‘umms’ and pauses. Or that perky and patronising strand of DNA explaining how cloning works.

It helps to know something about the film because the sheer challenge of miniaturisation does lend itself to some confusion, but the iconic scenes are all there as anchors – the ripples on the cup of water, T-Rex going to town on a toilet-bound Donald Gennaro, probing a big pile of dino-poop, sweaty Wayne Knight, girlie Laura Dern…

This is the perfect night for anyone who’s ever seen a stack of cone party hats and thought – three of them, artfully placed – there’s my triceratops!

POP OFF, MICHELANGELO!

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★★

“this camp, fairy-tale romp of a show is going to be the best hour and fifteen of our day”

POP OFF, MICHELANGELO!

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 17th August 2025 at Udderbelly at Underbelly, George Square

by Louis Kavouras

Photography by Danny with a Camera

Pop Off

Pop Off

Pop Off

HOLD ON TO YOUR BUTTS

Arcola Theatre

★★★★

“Although lacking the traditional sleigh bells and Santa, it does have sufficient nostalgia, silliness and giggles to fill a panto-shaped hole”