FringeReview UK 2026
Low Down
A timely Korean musical exploring love, grief and the unsettling possibilities of artificial intelligence. With strong performances, impressive musicianship and an intelligent central premise, You & It has plenty to appreciate, even if its biggest dramatic and musical moments could push further into the strange and unexpected. An engaging sci-fi that feels tantalisingly close to something genuinely special.
Review
You & It, an original musical by writers Seoeun Oh and Q Lee (with music and lyrics by Q Lee) played at the King’s Head Theatre in Islington from 20 August to 26 September 2026.
There is no doubt that Korean culture has begun to heavily influence Western, and indeed British, popular culture. It is no longer unusual to return home to find family members watching K-Pop Demon Hunters, The Devil’s Plan, Squid Game or perhaps even catching up on older work such as Oldboy. Having won Best Musical at the Daegu International Musical Festival, You & It subsequently travelled to Taiwan before becoming the first original Korean musical to bring an English-language production to the Edinburgh Fringe in 2024. Its arrival at the King’s Head is a continuing expansion of Korean storytelling into the UK and long may it continue.
Although not an entirely new concept, as many stories across the ages have explored resurrection, You & It approaches the idea through the lens of groundbreaking artificial intelligence and its possible applications in the future. It is a fascinating and terrifying concept that has been previously explored in TV shows such as Black Mirror and Upload and now finds a new medium in musical theatre. AI is certainly at the forefront of many people’s minds as we live through consistent news cycles seemingly unveiling the daunting power it may soon have over our lives. Science fiction has many subgenres and this could be categorised as ‘near-fi’ or ‘near future’ fiction, meaning all of this could be a lot closer to reality than we may think.
Zachary Pang plays the endearing but misguided Gyugin, a blacksmith who is leading a calm, simple life with his soulful, optimistic and arty wife, Mina, played brilliantly by Frances Mayli McCann. It is no spoiler to say that tragedy strikes early in the piece, providing a solid plot point from which to move the story away from its initially idyllic status quo and into a world of confusion, grief and the exploration of memory, identity and the ethics surrounding the technological resurrection of someone who has died. All of which is delivered via the challenging medium of musical theatre. The songs are pleasant and clearly well crafted, landing tonally somewhere between Einaudi and Disney, with piano often leading the way. The band are impeccable and the singing from Pang and McCann is outstanding, bringing Lee’s score together with wonderful harmony and power. There is, however, a sense that there could be more variation in musical style and tempo. At times it feels like one long, tonally similar piece. I kept waiting for the musical moment that would surprise me or shake me out of my comfort zone but it never quite came. This is where many solo or two-hander musicals often suffer. Within a greater ensemble, a solo has power because it is so intimate and gives a fleeting glimpse into the mind of the character. When there are so many solos in one piece, that curiosity of wanting to know what’s going on inside a character’s head begins to wear off.
That criticism also finds a place in the story structure. Some of the bigger moments, particularly McCann’s AI recreation arriving and the couple meeting for the first time, and later as her character begins to unravel the mystery of her own existence, were slightly underdeveloped and underplayed. These are enormous moments within the premise and there is perhaps room for the production to lean further into just how unsettling, emotional and ethically complicated they are. Within what is deliberately an intimate two-person story, these moments have the potential to land with even greater impact.
The set and lighting design are a real positive. Clever use of LED strip lighting and a futuristic cube sit alongside the beautifully crafted facade of a contemporary Korean home. Joined by a table and chairs on a thrust stage, it gives director Esther Jun real freedom to use the space intelligently and effectively, which she does.
You & It is a good show. There is no doubt that audiences will find plenty to enjoy, particularly in its accomplished performances, musicianship and timely central idea. Yet it also feels tantalisingly close to something stranger, darker and more surprising within its premise. There is an important question beating at the heart of You & It. With a little more willingness to disturb us with the answer, it could become something genuinely special.
