CROCODILE ROCK
Edinburgh Festival Fringe
★★★★
“well paced with a good balance of humour and emotional depth”
It doesn’t take too much scrolling through Facebook on Pride event posts to find the ‘Gay people don’t need this anymore, everyone accepts them now’ comments. Crocodile Rock proves that homophobia is still very much alive and that certainly not everyone accepts people for who they are and, in some cases, the people they are closest to.
A coming-of-age rock musical, Crocodile Rock tells the story of Steven McPhail, a young, teenage Scotsman living on the sleepy island of Cumbrae, about an hour from Glasgow. It’s an island with not much going on and little to do, apart from visiting the famous rock which someone has painted to look like a crocodile (hence, the title). Steven’s family run the local pub and B&B, his mum often found keeping things tidy with a feather duster and his dad pouring pints for the guests. One day, it’ll be Steven’s turn to run the pub, as his father tells him. But Steven is about to go on a journey that takes him off on a different path altogether, first meeting a boy who sparks his sexual awakening, and then a visiting musician from whom Steven learns to accept himself and never apologise for who he is.
There’s lots to love about this show, starting with a terrific performance from the man at the helm, Darren Brownlie. Brownlie welcomes the audience with a mischievous grin and irresistible laugh, putting us at ease and immediately letting us know that we’re in safe hands. What’s particularly special is his ability to play the tonal shifts with such ease, exploring the darker moments of Steven’s story but being able to lighten the mood in an instance; ‘that got serious very quickly’, he quips. It’s a skill that shouldn’t be underestimated and ensures Andy McGregor’s writing maintains a sense of levity that is crucial to stopping the whole thing becoming too depressing or over-sensationalised.
Brownlie creates an immediate rapport with the audience (which becomes particularly useful at this performance where a tech malfunction causes a minor interruption; not to worry though, he’s able to think quickly on his feet and keep us entertained – beautifully handled). We root for him from the start and happily sit on the rollercoaster as he takes us through the ups and downs of his story. His energy is manic at times, but he manages to never lose control of the audience.
Not only is Brownlie a captivating performer, but he also shows off a versatile singing voice, with a particularly impressive deep vibrato when he takes on the role of Vincente Miguel, the Spanish musician visiting the island to perform with his band at the annual rock music festival. Brownlie’s transformation into the other roles is equally entertaining, with skilful physical comedy appearing in all the different mannerisms and guises.
The script is well paced with a good balance of humour and emotional depth, the moment where Steven finds the box with the lipstick in feeling particularly emotive. There’s also some brilliant set-up done at the beginning with the location which has a great payoff when Steven sees the world from a new perspective once he’s on the other side of his journey.
Whilst this is technically a one-man show, Brownlie is far from alone on stage, with the presence of on-stage pianist Hilary Brooks who accompanies all the musical numbers. Not just a pianist, she acts as a compassionate companion, a particularly tender moment between them towards the end reminding us that you’re never alone, even when everyone abandons you; you get to choose your family. Whilst the music occasionally feels a little repetitive, there is a lively, energised feel to the songs which you can’t help but bop along to.
Even in this Fringe-scale production, there are some nice touches in the lighting design, from the snap of a spotlight for the start of Vincente’s Spanish-sounding song to the romantic purples when Steven sees his hometown in a whole new light.
I must admit, despite being a lover of queer theatre, I do feel coming-out stories are overdone and can easily become tedious or feel like they’re preaching to the choir, but with the careful balance of comedy and drama, and the irresistible charm of McPhail’s performance, this really won me over and reminded me of the importance of telling these stories in a world where being yourself can still be tremendously challenging.
CROCODILE ROCK
Dining Room at Gilded Balloon Teviot at Edinburgh Festival Fringe
Reviewed on 24th August 2026
by Joseph Dunitz
