Edinburgh Fringe 2025
Holly Street
Long Face Theatre Company and New Celts Productions
Genre: New Writing, Satire, Theatre
Venue: theSpace On The Mile
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
As the anniversary of their beloved soap, Holly Street, bears down on them, can the team of block-plagued scriptwriters come up with something credible enough to keep the show staggering along the road? Cue a bizarre brainstorming session that just confirms what many of us have thought for a while – life imitates art.
Review
“No-one gets to leave until our Holly Street thirty-fifth anniversary episode has been storyboarded”, commands Arthur, as his four somewhat shattered looking sidekick scribes (swaggering cool writer in shades, Crocs‑clad slacker, bleary-eyed superfan who’s memorised every soap arc, and a half‑mad genius) stagger into the writing room, complete with all the detritus associated with trying to wring something vaguely believable following a less than successful denouement to Series 34, Episode 25.
Everyone glumly hands over their mobile phones and any other potential distractions as they prepare for yet another session trying to make the incredible credible whilst meeting the demands of their adoring public, or at least the few poor sods with nothing better to do with their evenings than watch the dreary dross that’s the staple of most soaps. The trouble is, they’ve got collective writers’ block, and the mood is not helped by Arthur’s verbal torrent of cliché ridden, management drivel.
And what’s this fixation with a bog-standard looking whiteboard all about? Which idiot has been using a permanent marker, leading to every dozy plot line now being cast in a metaphorical tablet of stone? With collective brain cells at the low end of single figures, will they be able to make any sense of the plot line jungle?
Cue an hour of absurdist anarchy as the early, recognisable workplace comedy segues seamlessly into anomaly bombshells that feel both uncanny yet inevitable. Revelations accumulate until the writers emerge slightly dazed, with something that might, given a fair wind and snoozing viewers, just work.
There is much to recommend this well scripted, tightly choreographed piece of absurdist, comedic, physical theatre that explores how groups work, or don’t in this case. Each of the five strong troupe had put a lot of thought into the development and delivery of their respective character or, in some cases, caricature. Jonah Scorsbie as Arthur was wonderfully narcissistic and bombastic in equal measure. Playing the role of the goofy, naive and occasionally useful idiot (Callum) clearly comes naturally to Jed Bury. Cameron Millar was splendidly grumpy as Reece which played off nicely with Xander Arron-Gonzalez’ “dumped by girlfriend but still want to look cool” obsessed Stewart. Finally, Lewis McLaughlin (Ross, and he also scripted this nonsense) supplied occasional much needed stability and common sense as an antidote to the anarchy unfolding around him.
Kate Stamoulis’s tight direction ensured the quintet used every inch of the usual small Fringe stage and there was strong support in the form of sound and lighting that reflected the onstage action.
OK, OK, it’s an improbable script with a somewhat predictable ending but what the heck! It’s a show that’s clearly been conceived with absurdity and enjoyment in mind, where you can willingly suspend your disbelief and enter the world of the soap scriptwriter. And, judging by the audience reaction, it works – in spades. The worrying thing is, this show is probably more reflective of what happens in the creative process of “real” soaps than the excellent Long Face Theatre perhaps realise.
