Edinburgh Fringe 2026
Hope This Helps!
Shark Bait Theatre
Genre: Comedy, New Writing, Theatre
Venue: theSpace @ Venue 45
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
Shark Bait Theatre’s Hope This Helps! is, on the face of it, a show about internet addiction but one that also explores the challenges of maintaining relationships in a world increasingly full of distractions, the nature of love, with an obligatory nod towards climate change and a few more things besides.
Review
One of the great things about living in the Scottish Borders is the complete freedom to switch off from the online world at will. Step ten metres away from a phone mast or a wifi router and you’ll find instant peace and quiet. Detox on tap. Restore your karma whenever you like.
But not everyone is so lucky. Like the quintet of assorted city-based souls seeking salvation at a retreat deep in the Scottish Highlands, the quintessence of “mamba” country (“miles and miles of bugger all”, for you townies reading this).
David is leading a quartet of stressed out professionals in a deep and meaningful Yoga session, the first stage of their digital detox, with “tree pose”, “knee focus” and “downward tucks” amongst the interesting contortions his students are adopting, their hyperactive badinage making their guru’s presence seem almost irrelevant.
Homeschooled Mabel is addicted to dating apps, and she’s kissed way too many frogs in her quest to find nirvana in a “nice, single, handsome man that’s not a total freak”. Caitlin is concerned that she’s losing touch with her (appropriately) absent brother, Liv has a problem with internet porn and her partner, Willow, seems to be infatuated with a new squeeze, Scorpio, who turns out to be an AI infatuation.
And when Declan is finally dragged screaming and kicking by his sister to join in with the fun, it quickly becomes apparent that his behaviour is typical of an internet dependent incel, his utterings making Farage look like a woke fetishist.
So far, so therapeutic. But a rapidly approaching storm of biblical proportions (we’re in Scotland in the summertime, remember) provides a prescient metaphor as the floodgates open, the gloves come off and relationships are pushed to breaking point.
That’s the premise for Shark Bait Theatre’s Hope This Helps!, which is, on the face of it, a show about internet addiction but one that also explores the challenges of maintaining relationships in a world increasingly full of distractions, the nature of love, make an obligatory nod towards climate change and a few more things besides.
It has Shark Bait’s familiar strengths too. There’s the superb script (this one from Lex Joyce and Jess Ferrier) – wordy for sure, but that’s one of this company’s many strengths – that mixes ensemble scenes with a series of duologues where relationships unravel like balls of wool. Scenes are short and sharp, with the generously sized stage used to full advantage. And there’s a lovely running gag in the form of the weather forecast, used to good effect as a segue, the updates trotting through the traffic light warning system with a comedy that masks the existential climate threat facing many on this increasingly volatile planet.
The acting is universally strong. Co-writer Lex Joyce is away with the fairies as the self-styled guru, Elizabeth Robbins the epitome of frustration as the man-hunting Mabel, Minnie Cross (Liv) and co-writer Jess Ferrier (Willow) the antithesis of star-crossed lovers, Robyn Reilly (Caitlin) convincing as a stressed-out market executive (with a skeleton in the proverbial cupboard) and Rory Drinnan Murray (Declan) bringing out his character’s sense of entitlement and isolation to the full.
Lian Rees as director made excellent use of the “in the round” space, ensuring that what is quite a convoluted plot in a play with an awful lot of words kept rolling along, that sight lines were maintained and that the cleverly written denouement had the impact its writer intended.
Shark Bait Theatre has a growing reputation for providing cutting edge theatre exploring current relevant issues, particularly those with the potential to have a disproportionate impact on younger people. Its principal message is simple: the internet maybe all-pervasive but we need to control it, rather than let it control us. Just learn to turn it off.
Incisive, punchy and on-point. Recommended viewing. Now, where’s my phone?
