Natasha Tripney crafts her annual cut-up poem from the pages of the 2022 Edinburgh Festival Fringe programme
Deep underground. In the near future. In a devastating heat wave. In a hotel room. In a broken wintery world. In the height of the national lockdown. In the belly of a kettle. In a technologically advanced medical facility. In a dying forest. In a workers’ cult. At midnight on Halloween. The end of the world is announced.
After winning the lottery. A failed writer. A disillusioned Vietnam veteran. A ruthless south London gangster. Britain’s most compelling dandy. A gender non-conforming preying mantis. Two pantomime stars. Three mysterious strangers. Four youthful specimens. Brought together by takeaway pizza. Trying to follow their dreams. Miraculously switch bodies. Journey through the gig economy. Travel back to the days of dial-up. Try to navigate day-to-day life. Accidentally summon a demon. Watch society crumble. Is Hamlet to blame?
Trapped in a murder ballad. Trapped in a vault 100 metres underwater. Trapped in nostalgia for the 00s. Living in repressed Victorian times. Healing from loss and trauma. Facing a quarter life crisis. The first female tiger tamer. Is put to the ultimate test. Armed with a backpack of pop tarts. Hiding a dark secret. Saturated with corruption. Struggling to find a way out. Becoming a symbol of resistance. As the feudal lord parties on.
When fruitcake appears. Chaos ensues. A connection is made. Two worlds collide. Do you ever feel like your organs are floating? Who are we programmed to save?
Grief. Grief. Grief. Grief. Grief.
Adapted from an immortal classic. Based on the online game. Based on the popular folk song. Based on the legends of old. Back by popular demand. Back with a new variant. Unapologetically queer. Unapologetically Indian. Breathtakingly elegant. Blisteringly fabulous. Fascinatingly twisted. Heartbreakingly raw. Marvellously theatrical. Deliciously depraved. Interactive investigation. Interstellar sex-ploits. Immersive digital satire. Comedy hipness. Dante-esque descent. Lush southern accents. Deranged disco. Miniature set design. Mellifluous monologues. Drunken voicemails. 120 possible combinations. Knitting is encouraged.
A madcap saga. A performance of thrilling extremes. A play without actors. Exploring uncertainty. Exploring female rage. Exploring what it means to be human. Filled with questions about identity. Based on real events. Based on verbatim material. Featuring augmented reality. Told in rhyming couplets. Told with unflinching honesty. Performed in a bespoke venue. Performed in complete darkness. Completely sold out. How far will a politician go? We don’t have money to burn
Grab your umbrellas.
All maniacs welcome.