Edinburgh Fringe 2025
Chickens
Monika Klisch

Genre: New Writing, Theatre
Venue: theSpace On The Mile
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
He wants marriage. She just wants a visa that will allow her to live in the UK. As they try and sort out what they want from the rest of their lives, they slowly come to realise they are polar opposites. But opposites attract, don’t they?
Review
It’s mid-2021 and we’re in the nightmare that was Covid (remember that?) and “Dishy Rishy” (remember him?) is about to launch his state sponsored “Eat Out And Spread Covid About” campaign.
In their cramped Edinburgh flat Jay and Weronika, his Polish partner, are just back from a refreshing break at an Isle of Lewis B&B run by a woman who had her own chickens, producing the freshest eggs Jay has ever tasted, part of a breakfast feast that’s inspirational in his eyes.
Duly inspired, Jay wants to recreate this rural idyll on their small balcony whilst Weronika just wants to scrub the place clean in case they’ve accidentally imported a few Covid bugs from the trip home on the bus. He wants marriage. She just wants a visa that will allow her to live in the UK.
As they try and sort out what they want from the rest of their lives, they slowly come to realise they are polar opposites; he charming, possessive and chaotic, full of big ideas that somehow he can never quite complete; she pragmatic, prosaic, feet firmly nailed to the floor, relying on routine to feel safe. But opposites attract, don’t they?
Yet, as Jay embarks on his latest ill-conceived, madcap project, what appears to be his tenderness, concern and genuine love for his long suffering partner slowly morphs into a subtle struggle between them for control, with the fissure in their relationship widening inexorably until it becomes an unbridgeable crevasse.
Chickens is the brainchild of writer/producer Monika Klisch. And it’s a gripping two-hander, not in a “thriller” sort of way but in the surprises it springs on its audience as the relationship spirals down life’s plughole.
Jay (played with consummate skill by the engaging Owen Whitelaw), being the complete geek he is, spends an increasing amount of his life focused on chickens, studying their every habit and need, with a view to installing enough of them on their tiny balcony to supply those fresh eggs each morning. As his obsession with his new feathered friends develops, so he takes to living as he imagines a chicken would do in a city flat – hilarious and eerie at the same time.
Weronika (played to perfection by Paulina Szarek) surveys her partner’s increasingly eccentric behaviour with commendable sangfroid, as Jay’s passion continually clashes with her more practical approach to life. But the writing’s on the wall as his obsession eats away at their relationship, leading to loneliness in a shared space and to the inevitable denouement.
There’s a lot to absorb in this fascinating, slightly absurd and surreal piece of theatre. Acting is right out the top drawer with the characters believably polar opposites, their emotional frustrations conveyed with real intensity. Staging and the use of the small space was exemplary and the sound and lighting effects supportive of the action as it unfolds.
But a massive shout out is due to Laura Bachmann for the set (and props) design, which was comprised entirely of cardboard boxes. Boxes for computer screens, for work desks, for the chairs, for the sofa, for the dining table, for the double bed. Oh, and for the mobile phone they both use and for the food they ate. Simply brilliant! If there’s an award for the most innovative use of a cardboard box at the Fringe, this show wins it. Hands down.
Great script, great acting, wonderful set. There’s a lot to like here. And a lot to learn from too. “The future is unfucking predictable”, yells Jay as his frustration boils over at his partner’s reluctance to embrace his latest wheeze. If it was back then, what is it now? Highly recommended.




























