Edinburgh Fringe 2025
Th’Air BnB
Tuppenny Bunters
Genre: character comedy, Comedy, Fringe Theatre, Immersive, Theatre
Venue: Leith Depot
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
There’s a scrappy, shambolic joy to Th’Air BnB that captures exactly what Fringe fare ought to feel like: daft, irreverent, and utterly committed to its own chaos.
Review
Be transported from the back of the Leith Depot at 15:00, to a flat in Southend-on-Sea in Essex, where a surreal Airbnb has arrived, that floats in the clouds. Of the first floor.
Providing just enough scaffolding for an hour of misrule; hapless hosts, eccentric lodgers, and baffled guests muddle through an escalating series of good intentions and house rules gone wrong.
The Tuppenny Bunters, a musical duo and married couple, Dave and Fi Dulake have great chemistry that immediately builds camaraderie with the audience. The premise of this two-act comedy play is both absurd and strangely familiar to anyone who’s ever managed an Airbnb or been at the mercy of one.
What unfolds is a loose-limbed collision of character comedy, disjointed narrative and fantastically unnerving set design. One moment you’re watching offbeat flatmates debate the value of Chucky’s sister-doll, the next you’re dragged into a conservative guest’s midlife crisis. Veering off into something resembling a fever dream, the end comes abruptly and leaves the audiences “gagging” for more.
What makes it work is the sheer energy of the performers. They know the material is ridiculous, and they lean into it with full gusto. There’s an anarchic streak running through the show: wild props, eclectic soundtracks, character pairs that closely resemble each other, though the twain never meet; a sudden curtain call and lack of a much-desired third act. The audience ends up part of the mess because it feels like we’re all in it together…especially, the spectre in the back row.
Th’Air BnB doesn’t so much invite you in as shove you through the front door, pour you a dubious drink, and hope you’ll stay for the ride. It isn’t polished, but epitomises the fringe in its mad glee and rhetoric. At times it threatens to unravel completely, but that danger is half the fun. The humour is broad, a touch crude, and occasionally uneven, but the inventiveness and commitment keep it buoyant.
In short: Th’Air BnB is less neatly furnished comedy and more funhouse of mirrors, where nothing is as it seems and the exit is unclear. If you’re after slick, look elsewhere. If you want a rambling, unconventional ride that leaves you with sore cheeks from laughing, check in here. Though don’t expect your deposit back.
