2025 Audience Reviews

Company: The Church of Ratology
Show: Rat Mass
Venue: Rarig Stoll Thrust Theatre

blessed are the squeak

My final Fringe attendance before having to leave the state for a while. Can't imagine a stronger note to end on, by no exaggeration a transcendent experience.

Company: Sophia R.B. White
Show: White Noises
Venue: Open Eye Theatre

RISE, COWARDS — THIS SHOULD FILL HOUSE EVERY NIGHT

Compulsory attribution of the whole self to any mote of (perceived) romantic decency; psychosis wrought by alienation from reality, becoming unmoored from identity as you attempt to build it in the chest cavity of someone completely uninvested; the most authentically uncomfortable performance this Fringe, bar none, absolutely My Shit with a performance that sells the unsellable and leaps ahead of any single character portrayal this year. Should the subject matter, subtext, thesis, or design be off-putting to you, there's still no budging my take in one major department—this is the most committed, convincing act of Fringe 2025, and will be dominating my thoughts in the coming weeks while other (still lovely) shows have begun to fade in pieces.

Company: burnt ghost collective
Show: simone weil and the (insufferable) existentialist breakfast club
Venue: Theatre in the Round

Biggest laughs this Fringe

This has been a very generous festival—performances hilarious, tragic, a bit of each—and I was certain by the end of yesterday's lineup that the comedic ceiling had been reached. Whatever came, however much I loved it, there seemed very little chance of moving that particular needle this year. Then I witnessed "Simone Weil and the (Insufferable) Existentialist Breakfast Club," and my standards shifted on a fundamental level. This play checks the personally beloved, indie-coveted box of Uniqueness above nearly everything else I've yet seen—outright rejecting the artifice of polish and generic plotting, embracing its subject with sincerity but resisting sentimentality. It's goofy, earnest, intelligent, absolutely braindead, and punk as fuck. With zero expectations going in, its many surprises shocked heavy laughter out of me. Simone isn't here to give you petty wish fulfillment and a hero's journey, nor monologue about an increasingly stale hyperthesis; this is something with a clear identity, admirable (and lofty!) goal, and the violent puppet-shaking idiocy to make everything gel. I belly laughed against my will. Thrilled that I managed to catch it.

Company: Brad Lawrence
Show: The Big Secret
Venue: Rarig Kilburn Theatre

personal narrative, spiritual bridge

Devastatingly cathartic storytelling, subverting all settled expectations for the sparse "one-man" acts that often pepper these events. Raw and direct in ways I was beyond emotionally unprepared for, but so glad to have attended. Perhaps not the most "awesome" Fringe show I'll see this year, but without the faintest shadow of a doubt it'll be the most piercing, the most empathetic. It's rare to feel such transparent connection in a room full of people. Highly recommended to anyone seeking more seriousness this go-around.

Company: an alleged Theatre Company
Show: The Temporary Tattoo Trio
Venue: Rarig Kilburn Theatre

Early-2000s Discomfort Olympics (at 500mph)

Full disclosure, I suspected going in that this would be pretty stupid—and it was! But also genius, I think! A simulation experience that almost borders on performance art; a fly trapped on the convex wall of a brightly lit bubble in crowd participation hell (circa 2004), getting "hyped" by ultra charismatic bestie dudes who binge reality TV and wear shirts emblazoned with Pamela Anderson quotes. It usually takes a lot to make me laugh, as joyfulness has withered to a small bitter prune inside my chest, but the Temporary Tattoo Trio slayed me. Shout-out to Tyler's Seven Samurai tattoo.

Company: angela olson
Show: Someone Always Pays
Venue: Barbara Barker Center for Dance

(twisted) realism in (charming) purgatory

There's an overwhelming chance, if you're a regular patron of live theatre, that you've seen some incarnation of this thesis before. I don't want to spoil it exactly, as I do hope people check this one out, but you'll call it within moments (and possibly predict the show's outcome while you're at it). Regardless, there's a quality so earnest and stark about Someone Always Pays that had me engaged beyond my own boring, jaded anticipation—simultaneously more spirited than your average "kitchen sink" drama, and more self-aware than your average indie meditation on the sometimes hellish nature of existing as a woman (this second point addressed directly in an aside to the audience). In very short time, the characters have defined their archetypes with perfect clarity, and the ways those archetypes are distorted feels refreshing. Without giving too much away, a smattering of directing choices thrilled me in the way they subverted convention and/or messed with the "rules" of typical stage drama, all while keeping to a tight 30 minutes. At a distance it's unassuming, yet closeness reveals its teeth—not teeth it aims to eviscerate you with, but certainly puncture a bit. Sparse, candid, and gently absurd where it really counts. No cheap shocks dousing you with gore, profanity, or "high concept" over-explanation; just a vulnerable sliver of authentic feeling, and the hollow sound of a man's boots, indifferent yet self-assured, clunking across the floor. Hoping this one gets the attention it deserves, and likewise to see more from its creators down the line. Loved the playbill, too.

Company: THE MOTH PROJECT
Show: THE MOTH PROJECT
Venue: Red Eye Theater

Punchy Music, Visuals; a Wing-Dusting of Heart

Despite the nature of The Moth Project—an experimental(ish) concert that runs for ninety minutes, comprised of playful digital beats, keys, and excellent violin—something human and personal is woven into a concept that could've felt quite thin. Stories of childhood, immigration, and mortality don't always gel perfectly with its overarching theme (moths), but they comprise a spine that connects audience and performers in an earnest way. If you're coming for presentation, The Moth Project has a pretty striking execution: three massive screens with everchanging visuals and perfectly struck cues. Having experienced this opening night on a Thursday, the crowd was relatively small, perhaps more nervous about taking up the musicians' request to leave their seats for the dance floor; I can easily imagine this kind of engagement contributing massively to the fun, should attendees become more receptive later into its run. If you're coming for the music, you'll likely be entertained. It's catchy, straightforwardly danceable, and diverse in its sound. Not every aforementioned anecdote (primarily childhood and immigration) landed completely when it came to marrying mothy-ness in the songwriting, but the attempt to convey them while having a good time was always admirable. Coming from a musical background, one where lyricism was prioritized above all, I was often left wishing the depth of those personal stories had been brought more transparently into the text. In this particular area, my favorite two tracks came from moments of unique openness: first a song dedicated to a dream about the performer's brother after his passing, and then a ridiculous mashup of classical music, Virginia Woolf's posthumous "The Death of a Moth," and lyrics from a KISS song he misheard as a child. There was still a thread of humor present here, predominantly in the latter, but I found their sentiment to be achingly beautiful. A handful of moments became stuck to my mind, and though I originally intended to approach the performers after the show, their impact had me a bit speechless, so I left wordlessly instead. By contrast, although enjoyably silly, the tunes about moths having sex didn't do as much for me. Might catch this one again in the fever crawl of Fringe. It was a nice way to kick off this year's round of shows, easily imaginable as a way to close it out sweetly as well.