Tag Archives: Ryan Stewart

NIUSIA

★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

NIUSIA

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★

“The subject matter is urgent, and the personal lens has real potential”

Beth Paterson’s one-woman autobiographical show Niusia is built from fragments: family memories, inherited stories, and Holocaust history. It centres on her grandmother, Niusia, a Holocaust survivor who was, in Beth’s words, both heroic and “a b*tch.” The material holds undeniable weight. We learn that Niusia was born in Warsaw, later moved to Australia, and survived in part through her medical training, which led her to work under Nazi physician Josef Mengele. Alongside this history runs Beth’s complicated relationship with her own Jewishness, emphasising the “ish” in “Jewish,” and her memories of Saturday morning visits to her grandmother.

The form is collage-like. Moments about Jewish identity sit beside sections on Nazi atrocities and observations on intergenerational trauma. In theory, this fragmented structure could mirror the challenge of piecing together a family history when the person at its centre is no longer here to tell it. In practice, the show struggles to find a framework that can hold these pieces together. Without a clear through-line, it becomes difficult to track where we are in the journey or why each section arrives when it does.

Much of the delivery is heavily scripted and polished, which creates a distance between performer and audience. In a piece about discovery and memory, it can be powerful to feel as though the performer is working things out in real time, even if they are not. Here, Beth often appears to already know all the answers, which makes the storytelling feel more like a lecture than a shared experience. For a show that seems to promise a journey of learning, there is little sense of surprise or genuine exploration.

Some of the contradictions in the text are intriguing but not fully resolved. Early on, Beth claims to know very little about Judaism, yet throughout she uses Jewish terminology and makes cultural references that suggest a deeper familiarity. This could be an interesting tension to explore, but as it stands it comes across as inconsistent rather than intentional.

That said, there are moments of connection. The idea of a survivor who rejected spirituality, who was angry with both God and her faith, is compelling and could be a powerful anchor for the show. The honesty in calling her grandmother “a b*tch” sits alongside love and respect in a way that avoids easy sentimentality. And the collage form, if more clearly framed, could reflect the messy process of cultural inheritance: the odd blend of trauma, affection, ritual, and the gaps where questions have gone unasked.

As it stands, Niusia feels caught between forms. A clearer sense of Beth’s perspective, a more deliberate structure, and more space for discovery in the performance could help the audience engage with both the history and the person telling it. The subject matter is urgent, and the personal lens has real potential. With a stronger framework, the fragments could come together into something both moving and memorable.



NIUSIA

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 10th August 2025 at Former Womens Locker Room at Summerhall

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Ryan Stewart

 

 

 

 

 

NIUSIA

NIUSIA

NIUSIA

KINDER

★★½

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

KINDER

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★½

“it could become a sharp, funny and moving piece of political drag theatre”

Ryan Stewart’s KINDER arrives at the Edinburgh Fringe with a concept that is both timely and important. The censorship of LGBTQ+ issues from young people is a growing concern, and placing that conversation inside the heightened, unpredictable world of drag is a brilliant starting point. The idea of a drag-clown accidentally booked for a children’s story hour is ripe for chaos, comedy and political bite. At times, the show offers glimpses of this potential, but this does unfortunately feel like it’s still in work-in-progress stage, rather than having completed its final draft.

Goody Prostate is a fun creation, and when Stewart lands on a line like “being someone’s disappointment hurts”, the show finds genuine poignancy. A tighter structure could allow moments like this to shine more brightly. At present, the piece moves between themes of memory, family, queerness and censorship without always making the connections between them clear. Establishing early on exactly who Goody is speaking to, and by extension who the audience is meant to be within the world of the show, could give the performance a much stronger sense of direction.

The historical material, including the section on Nazi book burnings, is powerful in intention but currently feels more like a statement of facts than genuine emotional exploration from the character. There is an opportunity here to explore these ideas through character, humour, or imagery so that they live and breathe on stage rather than simply being told to us. Similarly, the lip-sync sequences are enjoyable but feel disconnected from the narrative. If they were more clearly motivated by the story, they could become real highlights rather than pleasant diversions.

Stewart brings energy to the performance, but in a one-person drag show consistent stage presence and audience command are essential. I think finding more moments to get the audience on side, and to establish that crucial rapport, would really help the rest of the show. A stronger commitment to the framing device could also help the show build towards a more satisfying conclusion, rather than drifting away from its opening premise in favour of tangential thoughts.

KINDER has an important voice and an urgent message. With a clearer structure, more focused storytelling and a stronger connection between performer and audience, it could become a sharp, funny and moving piece of political drag theatre. The building blocks are already there; they just need to be shaped into something that gives this story the impact it deserves.



KINDER

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 9th August 2025 at Big Belly at Underbelly, Cowgate

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Ejay Freeman

 

 

 

 

 

Kinder

Kinder

Kinder