Edinburgh Fringe 2026
Cubicle Dialogue
University of York Drama Society
Genre: Theatre
Venue: theSpace@Symposium Hall
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
It’s election time again and there’s a tense atmosphere in the Wessex District Council offices as the trickle of results that hints at a bad night for Labour builds to a tsunami of losses as Reform storms it across large parts of the nation.
Review
An electoral map of the UK is on a flipchart stage right. A collage of political posters hangs across the back wall. It’s election time again and there’s a tense atmosphere in the Wessex District Council offices as the trickle of results that hints at a bit of a bad night for Labour builds to a tsunami of losses as Reform storms it across large parts of the nation.
The Tories? They’re nowhere, which leaves Angie as the last token blue representative on the council. It’s been a bad night for most, especially Rachel, the long-serving council secretary with Labour leanings as well as Jamie, a politically correct, woke-focused worrier. And Cory, whose political views make Genghis Khan seem a left-wing softy, can see the writing on the wall and is already plotting a further surge rightwards to embrace the gospel according to Saint Nigel.
That’s roughly the premise of Cubicle Dialogue, University of York Drama Society’s full-on satire that has political clichés coming out of every orifice and a quartet of caricatures who wouldn’t look out of place in a pantomime. Then again politics these days is a pantomime. There’s no discernible plot to this either, another thing that this knockabout farce has in common with current politics. But that’s possibly what makes this a watchable forty minutes in which you can play political cliché bingo and cringe at the completely “off message” Cory (a pantomime villain if ever there was one).
There are a couple of reflective moments when the stoic Rachel harks back to the days when politics had ideology and vision while Jamie, the resident political “wet” resigns on principle as the meltdown arrives. There’s also a brief moment when reason breaks out as they reflect on the lack of young people looking to politics to make real change and its exploitation by those more interested in power than sorting out what needs fixing.
Subtle and nuanced this ain’t. It’s caricatures, not characters and the script already feels vulnerable to events, given the propensity for the UK to switch Prime Minister every time the wind changes. That’s the challenge of performing satire, you need to be prepared to improvise. Sledgehammers were also in evidence whenever a point needed making and some of the segue voice overs sucked out momentum. However, that’s the nature of this kind of theatrical beast – some of it will work, some won’t. Laugh with the former, move on from the latter.
So, if you’re happy to laugh at an erstwhile Prince and agree that we need to stick it up globalists, socialists and cyclists, then this could be the show for you. Otherwise, stick with The Archers. Good, watchable, fast-paced political farce with a worrying undercurrent of reality.
