🌍 PrideNomad’s 2025 Edinburgh Fringe Rundown

44 Shows. 9 Days. Two humans. One scooter. And at least one new pelvic injury from laughing too hard.

Fringe 2025 did not disappoint. This year we saw it all — the glorious, the grotesque, the gorgeously weird. From queer cabaret to Portuguese tragedy to shows about shaving cream and penguins (not the same show, sadly), we binged with reckless abandon so you don’t have to.

Below is every show we saw, grouped by emotional intensity and outrageousness. Let the madness begin.

🔥 The “Holy Shit” Tier (Reality-Benders)

These didn’t just entertain — they reprogrammed us. These shows wrecked us in the best ways.

Ten Thousand Hours ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

We didn’t know movement could speak this clearly. This returning Australian ensemble took the stage and — with nothing but bodies, breath, and precision — told a story about dedication, obsession, and finding identity in repetition. Every minute felt earned. It was raw without being messy, technical without being cold. Pride Nomad Mom leaned forward. I cried. If you’ve ever poured your soul into something that didn’t love you back right away — this is your show.

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Cirque Kalabanté: WOW (World of Words) ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

If you’ve ever wanted to feel like a sack of wet laundry watching gods in human form leap, twist, and flip with impossible ease — this is for you. West African tradition meets Olympic-level acrobatics in a show that redefined physical possibility. At one point, I swear someone turned into a rope. The rhythm, the joy, the jaw-drops — all there. I’m still sore and I didn’t even move. Pure, exuberant brilliance.

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The Remarkable Ben Hart ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Forget what you know about magic shows. This was no flashy Vegas act — it was intimate, cinematic, and quietly devastating. Ben Hart isn’t just a magician; he’s a narrative illusionist. Every trick carried a story, and every story crept into your bones. At one point, Mom muttered, “He’s a warlock.” Her jaw never reattached. Sleight of hand? Maybe. But it felt like sleight of soul.

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Homo(sapien) ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

This solo show about queer identity, religion, shame, and redemption ripped our hearts out and stitched them back together with neon thread. The staging was minimal. The performance wasn’t. Every word landed with weight, vulnerability, and something bigger than catharsis — communion. We laughed. We wept. We walked out quieter than we walked in. Essential queer storytelling.

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Tom at the Farm ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Performed in Portuguese with subtitles, and somehow more emotionally fluent than most English-language dramas we’ve seen. A brutal, lyrical piece about grief, secrets, and rural toxicity. Stark set. Relentless tension. No escape. Every scene was a slow ratchet toward suffocation — and we loved it. It’s rare to feel unsafe in theatre in such a good way. This one haunted us.

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Garry Starr: Classic Penguins ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

We thought this would be a fake nature documentary. What we got was an existential slapstick breakdown dressed in feathers. Garry Starr is chaos incarnate — equal parts clown, prophet, and sexual menace. He weaponizes absurdity and makes it high art. Pride Nomad Mom nearly fell out of her scooter from laughing. I snorted out loud. Five stars for every penguin — and for whatever unhinged brilliance lives in this man’s brain.

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Smile ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

The story of Charlie Chaplin’s rise, told with theatrical panache, pathos, and just enough whimsy. The lead actor’s physical control was uncanny — you could feel Chaplin’s soul in every stumble and twitch. But the kicker? Pride Nomad Mom got pulled on stage and cast as an extra. She crushed it. (She’s now “Chaplin-adjacent” and won’t let it go.) A tender, funny, gorgeously crafted love letter to performance and belonging.

💎 The “You’d Be Crazy Not To Miss These” Tier

Five-star stunners that didn’t break us… but definitely shook us.

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The World’s Greatest Lover ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

A wildly original, genre-blending musical that was both a love letter to love — and a satire of it. Big voices. Big hair. Bigger absurdity. Gorgeous staging, confident performances, and a heart buried under the glitter. Think Baz Luhrmann meets Fringe chaos. Pure theatrical candy.

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Dylan Adler: Haus of Dy-lan ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

A tornado of piano, trauma-dump comedy, and queer rage joyfully screamed into a mic. Dylan moves at the speed of meltdown — and somehow makes it healing. I was crying from laughter one minute and clutching our hearts the next. If catharsis were a musical cabaret with ADHD, this would be it. Electric from start to finish.

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1457: The Boy at Rest ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

An exquisite piece of Korean theatre — visually minimalist, emotionally immense. The story of a young king’s death becomes a meditation on duty, grief, and the stories we’re allowed to tell. Every movement was choreographed like a whispered prayer. Meditative, regal, and surprisingly gutting. And the voices? Fantastic.

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Ascension ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Forget the somber tone we expected from a story about an 18th-century exile punished for sodomy — this was radiant, poetic, and subversively joyful. Drawing from a real sailor’s diary, PrideNomad subscriber Dan Hazelwood’s performance mixed historical adaptation with queer wit, physical theatre, and bold postmodern staging. It danced between heartbreak and hilarity without ever losing emotional truth. A story of shame reworked into one of resilience. Easily one of the most intelligent, tender, and creatively queer pieces we saw.

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Swamplesque ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Shrek meets burlesque? Yes, and somehow it slayed. Led by the magnetic Tash York, this green-glittered beast mashed fairytale absurdity with queer cabaret brilliance. Dirty, funny, and surprisingly full of heart. Mom nearly lost it when a backup dancer twerked in a donkey suit. One of the most joyful hours we had all festival.

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Dangerous Goods ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Australian feminist circus with an acrobatic punch. Performed by a powerhouse all-female cast, this show wove physical feats into social commentary without ever preaching. The aerial work was fierce. The vibe was defiant. Imagine a high-flying TED Talk for queer femmes and you’re halfway there.

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Altar ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Two lifelong friends. One of them transitions. The other is… processing. What followed was a deeply compassionate, often hilarious exploration of change, memory, and the limits of understanding. Performed with rawness and respect. We hugged each other tighter after this one. Add to that the privilege of meeting the show's creator and it was a perfect experience.

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Mad About the Boys ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Sophisticated, cheeky, and drenched in musical theatre class. One South African performer channels the spirits of Noël Coward, Cole Porter, and Ivor Novello — with just the right mix of elegance and filth. Camp meets cabaret meets cultural history. A champagne cocktail of a show.

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Showstoppers ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

We’re suckers for improv done well — and this cast turned chaos into magic. Audience suggestions become full-blown musicals on the spot. Every rhyme, harmony, and plot twist was conjured in real time. It shouldn’t work. It does. Hysterical, sharp, and consistently jaw-dropping.

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Murder She Didn’t Write ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Think Clue meets Whose Line Is It Anyway? with a murder-mystery twist. This improv crew let the audience pick the murderer, the victim, and even the setting — then delivered a flawless hour of deduction and ridiculousness. Smart, silly, and satisfying. One of Mom’s faves.

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Down to Chance ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Alaska’s 1964 earthquake probably isn’t on your Fringe bingo card — but this two-hander made it personal, powerful, and genuinely funny. Switching between characters and timelines with lightning speed, these performers brought history alive with heart and humor. A total surprise hit.

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Kinder ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (Ken) / ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (Mom)

A solo drag-ish show that’s not quite drag — it’s a beautifully layered monologue on childhood, identity, and queer resistance. The twist? It’s all framed around a story hour at a children’s library. Gutsy, grounded, and unexpectedly tender. I loved it. Mom liked it but didn’t quite connect as deeply.

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Ghost Light ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

A love letter to theatre, grief, and the stories that linger after curtain call. One stage manager, one haunted stage, and a whole cast of ghosts you can’t see but feel. It started slow — then bloomed into something haunting and beautiful. Mom adored it from minute one. I caught up by the third ghost.

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The Uncrackable Case ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Murder mystery meets fairy tale absurdism. The victim? Humpty Dumpty. The suspects? Everyone from nursery rhymes. It shouldn’t work. It completely does. Smart writing, campy delivery, and clever staging made this one of the weirdest delights of the fest. Five stars for the egg.

🥇 The “Solid Gold” Tier

Absolutely worth your time — these delivered style, laughs, or surprise in spades. They just didn’t break us emotionally, which made them totally fun.

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The Fit Prince ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

After dominating the Fringe last year with Diana and Gwyneth Goes Skiing, Linus Karp and Joseph Martin returned with a Swedish fairy tale of royal mix-ups, puppet witches, and accidental queerness. It’s knowingly dumb, sharply smart, and gloriously self-aware. We didn’t quite cry this time — but we sure as hell cackled. One of the best uses of audience interaction we’ve seen. Glittery fun with a brain.

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Sugar ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Tomáš Kantor delivers a poetic, movement-driven solo performance that slowly sneaks into your chest. Blending gender play, vulnerability, and subtle physical theatre, Sugar is soft, strange, and unexpectedly touching. Like eavesdropping on someone’s internal monologue at 2 a.m. in a hotel lobby — but make it art.

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Sauna Boy ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Not quite a one-man show, not quite a lecture — this clever piece walks us through gay sauna culture with honesty, wit, and surprising tenderness. No actual nudity (we noticed), but a lot of emotional exposure. A celebration of desire, connection, and the sweaty sanctuaries we call home.

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Queer Comedy Club ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

You only need one visit to get hooked. One rotating lineup of queer comedians, each bringing their own flavor — from raunchy stand-up to surreal clowning. It’s a nightly grab bag of LGBTQ+ talent, and our night was a banger. Smart, filthy, and joyfully queer. (And yes, only once. Not twice. We remember.)

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Rob Auton: CAN ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Part TED Talk, part spoken word, part emotional support monologue — Rob Auton crafts a deeply sincere hour about trying. Just… trying. Some UK-specific references flew past our heads, but the big ideas landed: love, effort, hope. Earnest without being cloying. A balm in a noisy festival.

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Pop-Up Michelangelo ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

History, drag, wigs, and statues. This gorgeous romp through Renaissance art history returned this year with new staging, new costumes and still manages to teach and titillate in equal measure. Bigger venue, bigger cast, bigger energy this year — and it worked. Think Drunk History, but sober and in heels. Delightfully camp with a legitimate brain.

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Kate Dolan: The Critic ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Watching Kate Dolan work a crowd is like watching a lion play with its food. She’s got the timing of a sniper and the wit of someone who’s been insulted by the best and gave it back double. Fast, fearless, and fabulous. You’re not watching stand-up — you’re watching crowd control artistry.

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Strangers with Benefits ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (Ken) / ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (PrideNomad Mom)

What starts as a no-strings hookup in a hotel room turns into a surprisingly moving conversation about connection, consent, loneliness, and the stories we tell ourselves about who we are (and who we want to be). It’s sexy without being gratuitous, sharp without being cynical.

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Pub Grub ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Luke Wright’s fast-paced poetry is equal parts pub rant and lyrical brilliance. Some jokes flew over our American heads (accent + UK-specific slang), but his rhythm and conviction never wavered. His bit about telling one joke ten different ways was a highlight. Clever, caffeinated, and occasionally chaotic — in a good way.

👍 The “Good But Could’ve Been Great” Tier

Solid shows with spark — just not quite ignition. We saw the potential… but it didn’t all land.

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Aunty Ginger ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

We love her. We’ll always love her. But this year? She felt just a bit dimmed. The wit was there. The crowd was into it. But it felt like she was holding back. Still a warm, engaging hour from a Fringe icon — just not her brightest outing.

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Small Town Boys ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

An emotional piece about the AIDS crisis, soaked in memory and loss. We were ready to sob — but the script didn’t quite push past safe. Beautiful vocals, thoughtful pacing, and clear reverence for the material, but something vital was missing. Still worthwhile. Just didn’t hit the depth it could’ve.

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Golden Time (and Other Behavioural Management Strategies) ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

UK schoolroom satire — brilliantly performed, smartly written… and completely lost on us as Americans. The audience was howling. We were Googling acronyms. A great show if you’re local. If not, expect to smile politely and wonder what “Golden Time” actually is. Four stars, mostly for talent and commitment.

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How to Win Against History ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (Ken) / ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (Mom)

A musical about a queer aristocrat who torched his own legacy. Stylish, cheeky, and well-executed — but emotionally shallow for such juicy material. Pride Nomad Mom adored it. I found myself checking my internal clock. Worth it for the spectacle, but not one we’ll carry with us.

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Grooming My Ass ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

It opens with the performer covered in shaving cream. Then it gets even weirder. A raw, bold, gender-bending solo show about twink trauma, sugar daddies, and queer self-destruction. We didn’t like it exactly — but we respected the hell out of it. Uncomfortable, unflinching, and very, very Fringe.

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Midnight at the Palace ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

A glittery, gender-bent trip into the history of The Cockettes and queer counterculture. Big costumes, bigger chaos. Some scenes felt like drag eulogies; others, like disco burlesque. We didn’t always know what was going on — but the commitment was real. A fever dream with sequins.

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Bombshell ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Three Vegas showgirls, one failing eco-nightclub, and a climate-change musical that felt part cabaret, part Kickstarter. The passion was real. The polish? Not quite there. Still, the cast’s joy was infectious, and the show had heart — just needed time to cook. A charming mess.

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The Unstoppable Rise of Ben Manager ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

A solo satire about identity theft, corporate nonsense, and the absurdity of being promoted for doing nothing. Well-performed, tight pacing, and moments of sharp insight. It didn’t fully land emotionally, but the concept was clever and the delivery crisp. I left uncertain about what I'd experienced.

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Imago ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Two aerial performers spin through a dark, dreamlike world. Technically gorgeous. Conceptually poetic. But wow, was it slow. At times we felt suspended with them — in existential boredom. At times we felt like we were watching Cirque du Sloth. Artistic? Absolutely. Engaging? Not really Respect to the physical artistry, but we wanted more story. Or at least a coffee.

👎 The “Skip It” Tier

Fringe always gives you some shows that make you regret putting on pants. This year we got lucky--only one serious disappointment.

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Brunchtime Best of Broadway ⭐️ ⭐️

We expected show-stopping anthems to start the day. Instead, we got a newlywed couple, a sleepy guitar, and a version of Memory (from Cats) so lifeless it made us forget how much we love theatre. Song choices? Confusing. Energy? Nonexistent. We wanted razzle-dazzle. We got cruise ship open mic. Two stars for vocal effort. That’s it.