Edinburgh Fringe 2025
Gladiatrix
C F Creative Productions
Genre: Musical Theatre, New Writing
Venue: The Space, Venue 45
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
Gladiatrix brings to life the little-known decree (an Executive Order if you will) of 200 AD that banned women from competing as gladiators. The production is lyrical, witty, and not afraid to blend athletic stage combat with sharp modern satire which spins into a muscular, and often funny new musical. Four fierce and feisty women await in the arena.
Review
The show’s opening is a visceral jolt, loud rhythmic clashes of spears on shields thrust you straight into the arena’s raw tension. It’s a cinematic plunge that promises action from the first moment. Marius narrates from his little black book, which is shared with Cato.
Dashaun Vegas brings grandeur as Emperor Septimius Severus. His almost gliding entrance is magnetic, his diction impeccable, and his lines are delicious and bear repeating. One can’t help but imagine him reclining with regal composure on a velvet Roman lectus, if only funding permitted such opulent staging beyond the typical Fringe constraints. Perhaps someone generous might channel their inner patrician and make it happen in a future run? This victim of childhood taunting and bullying rejects our empathy and sits comfortably on his empirical, tyrannical throne.a
At the show’s core are four remarkable women: Vita (Stella Antonogiannaki), Felicitas (Olivia Blair), Deireoe (Bukky Oronti), and Mevia (Kirsten Longmuir). Bukky Oronti’s portrayal of Deireoe is especially luminous; her performance feels tantalisingly dialled at a bridled “8,” with the promise of soaring to “10” as her reins are released. One senses not underperformance, but a reservoir of escalating and limitless strength.
Kirsten Longmuir, fresh off belting out rock-worthy notes at Brewhemia the night before, which I also thoroughly enjoyed, brings that same electric energy to Mevia. Her thunderous vocals crack through Gladiatrix’s physicality with excitement and force.
By contrast, I gently suggest that some ensemble members could benefit from slightly stronger projection or microphone placement, at times, their voices felt a touch hushed in their songs’ gentler moments. In both cases their ability to belt was clearly demonstrated within their tracks’ crescendos. This is a minor tweak, a chance to ensure their characters’ voices and stories are equally heard. Maybe also an invitation to benevolent and more dependable benefactors than their counterpart, Marius proves to be.
The show’s deft lyrical narration often reaches poetic heights but occasionally slips into conversational delivery that dims its potency. Leaning back into heightened cadences could allow those lyrical moments to resonate more deeply. I tittered at gems such as “He’s a few croutons short of a Cesar salad, isn’t he?” and the delightfully unapologetic “Make Rome Great Again”, which landed with delicious comedic precision.
Similarly, clever yet subtle moments like the “Out, damn spot” reference build beautifully, but would truly dazzle with modest amplification. The final belt in that moment is exhilarating, but it deserves to be unmissable.
The Mevia fight-number is thrilling in its athleticism and pace, physically demanding yet impressively managed. Likewise, the ensemble reprise knits individual arcs into a resonant finale, built around the rallying refrains: “Three More Fights to Freedom”, “I Don’t Carry a Grudge” and “I’ll Do It Anyway”. Hanging omnidirectional microphones support the male chorus beneath it, lifting the emotional swell. Once again Oronti emoted throughout as audiences were treated to very clear gradients of desperation through to resilience.
With Book & Lyrics by Paul Bianchi, Music & Arrangements by Tony Gonzalez and Sam Johnides, and Choreography by Kirsten Longmuir, CF Creative Productions offer a Fringe staging that feels like a palatable epic.
From melancholy to defiance, each emotional arc is clearly mapped and deeply affecting. These are real women with tangible stakes.
