Edinburgh Fringe 2026
Turn the Cloth
Cutty Sark Theatre
Genre: New Writing, Theatre, Theatrical Storytelling
Venue: The Turret, Teviot Theatre, Gilded Balloon
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
There is something deliciously unsettling about a storm in a Scottish village. In Turn the Cloth, Cutty Sark Theatre takes that familiar landscape of folklore, superstition and communal ritual and gives it a distinctly 1980s twist. The result is a darkly funny, atmospheric piece of folk horror that understands that the most frightening stories are often the ones we tell ourselves
Review
The play opens to delicate chants which build as a recorded narrative exposition ends. They become menacing and later verge on manic.
The scene bursts sharply into the now with the entrance of Maura, all blustering denim and profanities. It is 1989, and the first storm of winter has arrived. Four young women gather in the village hall to perform an ancient ritual designed to ward off a kelpie intent on claiming an eligible bride. But as gossip, resentment and old secrets surface, the ritual becomes increasingly difficult to separate from the fears and pressures of teenage girlhood. The play is explicitly concerned with tradition and the pressures of compulsory heterosexuality, but it wisely allows these ideas to emerge through character and conflict rather than becoming a lecture.
Eve Miller’s writing cleverly layers the ancient with the contemporary. Traditional folklore sits alongside Lambrini, pack-a-macks, Blockbuster and sharp-tongued teenage bickering, while a soundtrack combining folk music and sound effects steadily builds the sense that something is not quite right. The play knows how easily folklore can become a vessel for the things a community fears but cannot otherwise articulate: sexuality, violence, desire, conformity and the policing of young women.
There is some exposition that could be trimmed, particularly in the earlier scenes, but when the storytelling trusts its audience to make the connections for themselves, it is remarkably effective. The insinuations surrounding Rose, for example, are considerably more powerful for being allowed to emerge rather than being spelled out. This is storytelling that understands the value of what is left unsaid.
The four performers bring an impressive authenticity to their roles. Isla Rose Perkins, Greer Montgomery, Niamh Cox and Emma Comfort create believable relationships that feel lived-in rather than theatrically constructed. Their bickering can be funny, their loyalties shifting and their memories increasingly disturbing. Kirsty’s recollection of childhood is particularly convincing, while Blythe’s return transforms the atmosphere completely. A vacant stare and a chilling stillness become more frightening than any overt display of horror.
From her first brash entrance as Maura, Isla Perkins claims her stage. Her acting is decisive and controlled as she fully immerses herself and the audience along with her into Maura’s masquerade of bravado and feminist resistance to the patriarchy. Kirsty’s (Emma Comfort) retelling of her childhood memories is disturbingly relatable and familiar.
Molly Cavanagh’s sound design is especially effective as the storm gathers behind the arguments, turning the weather into an almost physical presence. There is a strong sense throughout that the outside world is closing in. At its best, Turn the Cloth makes ancient legend feel startlingly relevant to the present, asking how stories become traditions, how traditions become rules, and who gets hurt when those rules are challenged. It is refreshing to see three young female actors carry this tradition forward whilst modernising the interpretations they suggest.
The play’s most memorable moments recognise that horror does not necessarily arrive with a monster. Sometimes it arrives through manipulation, coercion, and the things people persuade themselves are simply “the way things are”. One line captures the production’s understanding beautifully: “It’s like the fear cracks you open so the feelings can get in.” Blythe’s terrifying moments are conveyed through her solidly maintained vacant stare.
Turn the Cloth is a compelling, unsettling and frequently witty piece of Scottish folk horror, carried by four strong performances and an assured creative vision. It keeps one foot in the folklore of the past while firmly confronting the fears of the present. A genuinely atmospheric Fringe production that leaves its mark long after the storm has passed.
