Edinburgh Fringe 2025
Atomic Cabaret
Lynda Williams AKA The Physics Chanteuse
Venue: theSpaceUK
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
Atomic Cabaret is a solo 45 minute cabaret by physicist and performer Lynda Williams at the Edinburgh Fringe 2025. Blending science, satire and original songs, with a direct peace polemic, it explores the history and ongoing risks of nuclear weapons.
Review
Atomic Cabaret is a late-night solo musical with a message. Performed and written by Lynda Williams, this show takes us on a journey through the nuclear age, from the Trinity test of 1945 to today’s unstable geopolitical landscape. Framed by the eightieth anniversary of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, it draws on music, factual commentary, archival visuals and projected scientific imagery to explore how nuclear risk has evolved and remains unresolved.
Williams is an authoritative performer. Dressed in a black outfit and trilby, she is part-cabaret singer, part-physics educator, and fully committed to her material and mission. Singing against recorded backing harmonies, she shifts between characters, scientist, citizen, cultural observer, with confident intention . She guides the audience through topics such as isotopes, radioactivity and nuclear deterrence with an impressive degree of clarity. But this is not dry edutainment, there is sharp wit and lyrical dexterity throughout. The songs are more than musical interludes; each one is a narrative chapter. In fact, the music is tightly woven into the overall dramaturgy. And when it works, it really works. In places that narrative is tight and clear. There is potential to reduce the sheer amount of polemic and the intensity of facts which can overwhelm and we need more time to take it all in. Less could be more in terms of the sheer amount of scientific explanation delivered.
There’s a particularly memorable moment where Williams performs a singalong pastiche of a well-known musical number, reworded to teach basic principles of radioactivity. It’s clever and has real audience appeal, but feels misplaced at 10.45pm. It deserves an earlier time slot wand is certinaly appropriate for a family with older children, not just adults. That said, Williams brings confidence and immersion to the moment, and the show never patronises.
This is a musical theatre piece rooted in science communication. In parts, it’s dense. The script is packed with information, some of it genuinely frightening. From government secrecy and military doctrine to activist science, no stone is left unturned. The show’s strength lies in its clear intention: to inform, warn and provoke thought. But the sheer volume of content can at times overwhelm. The pace rushes ahead, and while the audience is intrigued, they are occasionally left playing catch-up. A touch more restraint here would benefit the overall shape of the performance. Less would indeed be more.
One standout number focuses on depleted uranium, a song that critiques the way scientific terminology can dilute and sanitise danger. Williams highlights the euphemistic language that hides the brutal reality. “Depleted Uranium” is one of the most effective pieces in the show, both musically and thematically. It is also where the show reveals its most damning observation: that the words we choose can shield us from accountability.
Trump makes an appearance on screen, and the show pivots sharply into a contemporary warning. There’s no subtlety in this moment—nor is there meant to be. It is a stark reminder of how dangerously close we still sit to catastrophe in a world led by unstable figures with nuclear access. This isn’t just cabaret. It’s an urgent provocation.
The set is minimal, with projections doing much of the visual work. They support the performance effectively and help situate the material historically. But this is still theatre, not a lecture.
Atomic Cabaret is not a perfect show. Some scenes would benefit from editing, the volume occasionally needs lifting, and the whole structure could be more tightly woven. But there is an intelligence and conviction here that matters. Williams takes on an ambitious task and delivers a show that is different to anything else on at this hour.
Over 200,000 nuclear bombs have been exploded on, in, or above the earth since 1945, often displacing indigenous populations and poisoning the planet. This show effectively reminds us of that, and asks whether the chaos of our current world is about to add to that number, catastrophically.
I am glad I spent 45 minutes in the company of this earnest singing physicist who knows her stuff. It’s a bit of a dare to bring this to the Fringe and risk telling it like it is in a show borne on the dual wings of cabaret and education. Williams has taken a risk here at the Surgeons Hall and largely pulled it off.
This is a cabaret that wields physics, politics and performance in the service of peace. It is not afraid to speak truths that many would rather not hear. A musical, informative, revealing powerplay for nuclear awareness and activism.
