Review Category: Events

Lightning Ridge is a theatre show designed for a young audience that is currently touring Scottish venues. 

The story concerns the residents of a heightened version of the real Australian town of Lightning Ridge, known for being the centre of Australian opal mining. Our focus is on the Williamson family: dad Rex, mum Susan, son Ashmol, and daughter Kellyanne. But overwhelmingly, our focus is on Kellyanne’s two imaginary friends, Pobby and Dingan. 

Rex has moved the family to this dusty outback town from the big city. His aim is to explore his ‘claim’ – a small area of land on which he can mine for opals. Such is the worth of this precious gem, that finding just one reasonably sized stone will set the family up for life. Susan is less impressed, having already left behind a pastoral English lifestyle, complete with Pony Club membership and all that suggests, to move to Australia. The continuous dust of the outback wears her down on a daily basis. 

Of the two children, eight-year-old Kellyanne begins as our focus, as Poppy and Dingan are her imaginary friends. So vividly outlined are the descriptions of these two characters who can’t be seen, that the audience is immediately able to imagine their physicalities. Indeed, all of the characters, however fleetingly mentioned, are so fully realised, that even one line allows the audience to either relate to the tropes inferred, or to be able to visualise that character’s mannerisms. 

Kellyanne is deeply emotionally reliant on the support of her imaginary friends, to the equally deep annoyance of the twelve-year-old Ashmol. Ashmol can’t see Pobby and Dignan, but it is established early on in the story that some people other than Kellyanne can. This will prove to be vital later on. Indeed, there are various moments throughout the story that turn out to be foreshadowing for what is to come later on. So subtly woven are these, that it only becomes apparent in the final scenes how effective this has been as a storytelling device. 

In a bid to repair the slightly broken relationship between father and daughter, dad Rex starts to try to engage with the two imaginary friends, who, it is plain, he cannot see. He engages with them at the family home, and even takes them with him to work, in his claim mine. One day, Pobby and Dingan don’t come home with dad. A distraught Kellyanne falls ill, and implores her brother to help her find her missing friends. 

Ashmole calls on the community to help, and is genuinely surprised when they do. But alas, there is not to be a happy ending here. The final scenes are however, deeply emotional, and make a fitting climax to the story being told. 

The story has been adapted from Ben Rice’s 2000 novella Pobby and Dingan, by Catherine Wheels’ Theatre Company – and this adaptation dates from 2023. At this point in the production’s development, all the various aspects are well embedded within the production, and are brought to life delightfully. The familiarity with the source material shines through, and it is clear that everyone involved in conceiving this story has a deep affection for, and familiarity with, the original tale. 

This show has obviously been made on a restricted budget, and the team is doing a lot with relatively little. There’s a gorgeous soundscape, which evokes the drainingly hot outback landscape. There’s a careful use of lighting, and further sound techniques to heighten certain moments. 

The magic in this performance lies with the talents of the performer, on this occasion Catherine Wheels’ artistic director Gill Robertson. Robertson is a gifted performer, weaving images with their words, and bringing the younger members of the audience into the story world with skill and humour. 

The story here is engaging, and its novella roots mean that it feels as if nothing vital has had to be edited out to fit into the fifty minute running time. 

The show is stated to be suitable for ages 8 and up, and we think that feels about right. Much younger, and the slightly surprising end moments might be too overwhelming. Much older, and the charm may be deemed to be ‘too uncool’. Even though it is twelve year old Ashmol who ends up becoming our quasi-narrator, actual twelve year olds may be too old for the message being delivered here. 

With themes of isolation, community, and how rituals shape our lives, the story evolves to give an ultimately uplifting message of how a shared experience can bring together people who otherwise seem very different from each other. The friends may be imaginary, but the support and love is very real. 

This is a truly delightful, and, at the end, surprisingly heart-wrenching piece of theatre, ideal for younger audiences, but with enough to engage their accompanying adults. A beautiful story, thoughtfully told. 

Lightning Ridge will continue to tour venues across Scotland throughout February and March 2026, and will also be performed as part of the Theatre in Schools Scotland programme. 

Images by Murdo MacLeod and Sally Jubb, supplied by Catherine Wheels’ Theatre Company

The immersive theatrical show The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, currently running at London’s Riverside Studios, is the latest in a long line of adaptations of Douglas Adams’ original 1978 BBC radio drama, which swiftly became a best-selling novel series. It’s been through many iterations and media formats since, each version being more different from the first. This new adaptation is both a loving homage to what has gone before and also its own glorious thing.

As the show begins, we walk into the first room, which is The Horse and Groom pub, Arthur Dent’s local. Arthur will turn out to be one of our galactic hitchhikers, and we will join him on his journey.  It’s that sort of show; you’ll be walking around, taking in the sights and talking to the characters from the story and then eventually the plot will happen around you. It’s loud and flashy, so be prepared.  It’s very clear from context which parts of the show are for you to explore and when to watch.

Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters are available at the bar, as is Hitchhiker’s-branded lager. We meet the ‘perfectly normal’ Ford Prefect, and apparently, we’re all in the pub for a surprise party for Arthur Dent. Meanwhile, Arthur’s date, a woman called Fenchurch, seems rather bemused that so many people are here for something so routine. Other folk also hover around, some of whom may be two-headed aliens in a cunning disguise.

Arthur arrives, and there is a karaoke battle for his attention between Fenchurch and Ford. Then the Earth is destroyed by aliens called Vogons (via a pre-recorded performance from Sanjeev Bhaskar), which fits in seamlessly with the narrative. A countdown to doomsday begins, heartfelt confessions are made, and wackiness ensues, and we, the audience, find ourselves fleeing the Earth (moving to another room), becoming hitchhikers ourselves.

If you don’t know the story, we won’t spoil it, but if you’re a fan and very familiar with the material, then you’ll be delighted to learn that this is a blend of the first four books, with a focus on the first and fourth.  It also makes some of the same narrative decisions as the 2005 movie, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which is essentially a love story about finding meaning in the dark between the stars. 42 might be the big cosmic answer, but the question is for you to discover.

There’s plenty to take in, and the performances are mixed with props to interact with. Oliver Britten is incredible and bizarre as Ford Prefect, Kat Johns-Burke is mesmerising as Fenchurch, and Robert Thompson holds it all together as an earnest and perpetually bewildered Arthur Dent. Only Fools and Horses alumnus Lee VG is particularly sleazy as Zaphod Beeblebrox. The casting is excellent throughout. There are some pre-recorded parts, but the live cast really do stand-out and are superb.

Briony Scarlett is particularly strong as Eccentrica Gallumbits. The performer is incredible, even though the character itself really should have been left in the 1970s, though a modern take on the outmoded ‘sexy alien’ trope is always worth a shot.

It’s a messy show, and that’s the point. There are some amazing set-pieces, brilliantly handled character moments, and even at one point, the opportunity to buy merch. The show’s humour is also similarly tricky to pin down; it relies partially on some of the best jokes from the books, but also on the surprise of the bizarre. Relax, take it all in, and you will be smiling very soon.

Douglas Adams’ material shone when it was a stream of consciousness, and the show’s creators have fundamentally understood this. At times the show feels like it needs a little bit more time and space to truly shine, but at the same time the rush is part of the point; life happens whether you’re paying attention or not, and that is very much in the spirit of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

This is absolutely the sort of show that demands a level of buy-in from the audience. You can passively be led from scene to scene, taking in the musical numbers and pre-recorded performances that flash up on various parts of the set, or you can pick up mysterious telephones and get into an argument with a robot. It’s up to you, though we’d recommend the latter.

Unique, ambitious and absolutely worth making the journey to London, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a one-of-a-kind sci-fi jaunt. (Don’t hitchhike to get there, though; take the train.)  An unmissable addition to the canon of Hitchhiker’s storytelling, and something that people will be talking about for the next forty-two years at least. Definitely a show for the sort of person who really knows where their towel is. Marvelous stuff.  Recommended.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to The Galaxy runs until the 15^th of February 2026 at the Riverside Studios London, you can book here. 

A modern western, featuring two actors from the Marvel Cinematic Universe certainly fits Starburst’s ‘niche’ and ‘cult’ remits. It’s perhaps a surprise to find this combination of factors in a West End theatre in central London, in a play which features only three actors, with a running time of around 100 minutes. But here we are. Clarkston, a play about frontiers and boundaries and how both change, also marks the West End debut for writer Samuel D Hunter (The Whale) and Director Jack Serio (Uncle Vanya). 

The play’s title comes from the town in which it is set, located in Washington, the US state in the north-west of America that borders both Canada, and the Pacific Ocean. The town of Clarkston is named after the American frontier explorer, William Clark, of the partnership of ‘Lewis and Clark’. Whilst that duo’s exploits are celebrated in America, here in the UK the specifics of those stories are less well known. 

To an extent therefore, the play relies on our understanding of the tropes of the western: loneliness; confusion, and; a desire to find ourselves, in order to carry the audience through the narratives, as we accompany Jake (Joe Locke: Agatha All Along; Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street) and Chris (Ruaridh Mollica: Vision Quest; A Thousand Blows) as they work the night shift at Clarkston’s Costco. 

The Costco location acts as the metaphorical frontier for most of the show. Costco’s American warehouses are enormous spaces, and that vastness is cleverly conveyed through Milla Clarke’s set design. Stacey Derosier’s lighting design works to convey the desolation of the locations, and, in one sepia-lit scene, the nostalgic yearning for a more innocent past that never really existed. 

Jake is new to the job, and he’s mostly very willing to tell colleague Chris all about his life to date. We quickly find that Jake is from the east coast of America and went to a Liberal Arts College, where he studied Post-Colonial Gender Studies. Essentially, he’s the American Middle Class dream personified in pale beige chinos, with a preppy backpack. Locke’s performance is warm and engaging: bubbly when Jake wants to share, more withdrawn when Jake wants to stay isolated. He’s also gay, as is Mollica’s Chris, and the temptation to make this an ‘opposites attract’ romance is quickly dealt with and rejected. 

The production’s marketing has been built around Locke – familiar to British audiences not just from that turn as Wiccan in Agatha All Along, but also from the three seasons and a forthcoming movie of Heartstopper. Locke is assured as the lead of the production, and, having seen his earlier performances in both Sweeney Todd and The Trials (staged at London’s Donmar Warehouse in summer 2022), we can see Locke’s developing confidence and maturity as a performer. And that skill which we first observed in The Trials, of Locke’s ability to focus and listen to his fellow actor’s performances, remains evident in this much more intimate production. 

Despite that marketing campaign, it’s Mollica who has the meatier role. Sparking with onstage mum Trisha (Sophie Melville: Iphigenia in Splott), Chris’s narrative arc puts him through an emotional ringer. Solidly working class, his hopes and dreams have been relegated to afterthoughts by Trisha’s selfishness and her repeated acts of betrayal. His lived experience is a reflection of his lack of options, and lack of hope. He’s never ventured outside this tiny portion of the western United States, and, despite his hopes, never truly expects to.

Initially brittle and even resentful of Jake’s good fortune and easy life, Chris slowly opens himself up to Jake’s constant attempts to build a friendship. That Chris’ attempts to expand his own horizons are repeatedly thwarted is a tragedy that Mollica’s performance demands we engage with, and meditate upon. The final interactions between Chris and Trisha are devastating in their emotional intensity and visceral anguish, and despite the staging meaning we can’t see Mollica’s face, we can understand just how emotionally wrung out Chris has become.

Melville doesn’t have a lot to do, but she does it convincingly, and you really believe her turn to nastiness during her parking lot located denouement. 

As this is an American play, it’s as much about themes and ideas as it is about a straightforward narrative. Whilst the passage of time isn’t always clear, it seems that we cover at least a few weeks, as Jake fully joins the Costco team, and Chris opens up about his own unexplored frontiers. The themes are around loneliness, and of how people who find themselves existing on the margins of society can connect with each other. There’s also a lot about how we find out who we are, and what happens to us when our options are severely limited.  

Although there’s a number of very funny moments, there’s little subtlety in the script. The words ‘frontier’ and ‘discovery’ or variants thereon are used repeatedly, to really hammer home the point that the characters should have their whole lives in front of them, and that, even though there may not be much for the American public as a whole to discover geographically, this is not true for the individual: we can always discover new truths about ourselves and the sort of people we are. 

The problem is that the script isn’t saying as much as it seems to think it is. There’s a lot of quoting from the journals of William Clark: in one scene towards the end, far too much. The stillness of that scene does work, in context of Chris’ narrative journey at that point, but this would have been an opportunity to hear more from Jake. We know Jake has Huntington’s, a degenerative neurological condition, and we know what that means in terms of his prognosis. But we never learn enough about what Jake thought his life was going to be before he received his diagnosis.

What were Jake’s hopes and dreams before that shadow fell across his life? Where would he be now, if he didn’t have that condition? He’s a distant relative of William Clark, so where are Jake’s journals, to contrast with Clark’s? Where is his discovery of his emotional frontier? He’s brought himself to the other side of the country, but now finds himself trapped. But it’s a fictional entrapment. To quote Jarvis Cocker: “if you called your dad, he could stop it all”. This is a play about writing, and stories, and, somehow, we never actually discover enough about Jake’s own story. 

If we overlook this, and focus on what is presented, it has to be said that the chemistry between Locke and Mollica is exceptional. If they really are playing the twin brothers Wiccan and Speed in forthcoming Marvel projects together, then that on screen journey is going to be a lot of fun. Even if they aren’t, we hope they work together again, because the sense of both camaraderie and joy radiates off the stage and sweeps into the audience, so infectious is their apparent pleasure at spending time together. 

Modern American plays are generally less familiar to a British theatre-going audience. This play is, probably, not the final frontier for American theatre in London, and is, we suspect, merely the first journey in an undiscovered country of a slightly differing theatrical form, as we foresee that a gentle wave of modern American theatre will probably make its way to UK stages over the next few years. 

We think that we here at Starburst see a lot of theatre that is polarising. This is probably another example, although less extreme than with some other productions we’ve seen recently. Here, if you are a fan of Locke, or Mollica, and want to see their West End debuts, in a play that attempts to take big ideas and make them personal, then this is a reasonable way to spend an evening of your life. They are both giving excellent performances in their respective roles as the preppy eastern New Englander, and already world-weary Washington westerner.  

If their respective careers don’t interest you, and you don’t much care for American Plays, then this probably isn’t for you. This is a solid play, but it doesn’t break through it’s own boundaries enough to truly satisfy. But if that is the sort of theatre that you wish to experience, then, with the caveats of all of the above, this is strongly recommended.

Clarkston continues at The Trafalgar Theatre on Whitehall in London, until 22nd November 2025. Joe Locke will not appear on Saturday 1st November. 

 

World’s Greatest Lover is a new musical that has a very flimsy premise – and it absolutely knows that, and it also completely leans into that fact.

Romeo, Cyrano de Bergerac, the Marquis de Sade and Casanova have all been summoned to participate in a concert in order to ‘save love’. That’s it – that’s the entire plot, and it’s been teased out into a 60 minute running time that, somehow, never drags. It helps that the cast seems to be having an immense amount of fun.

Once we’ve got over some initial ego-fighting about who is leading the concert, we begin to find out more about each of our four men. There’s not a great deal new here, but it’s been put together very nicely. Romeo is all blustering 14 year old teenager. Cyrano is all nervousness and romantic disaster personified. Casanova wafts around like he’s just here until he gets a better offer. De Sade is a vision of darkness, but somehow also channeling Olly Alexander?

Just as some sort of accord seems to have been reached, the foursome are joined by Saint Valentine. Who is in mortal danger if Love cannot be Saved. Apparently, Love is in danger of disappearing, unless something is done by these four men who represent different ideals of love.

From here on, it’s a song and dance fest, and some low-level philosophising about the nature of love, romance, and soul-mates. A volunteer is recruited from the audience to be sung to, and looks suitably awed / embarrassed by the occurrence.

This is a musical, and the songs come thick and fast. They’re pretty much all forgettable, but then they have been written by two people who wrote Luxembourg’s 2025 Eurovision entry (no, we couldn’t tell you what it was either). Still, there’s nothing offensive here, and the audience were clearly having a great time.

We were concerned that this was all heading for being exceptionally hetero-normative, but that concern is avoided in the final moments of the show, as de Sade provides a message that’s supportive of queer love, and also kink positive. We could have done with more of that throughout the show.

This is a popcorn-tastic, cheesy-as-you-like new musical, and we wouldn’t be surprised if a slightly longer version was heading for an Off-Broadway run. It may not be the world’s greatest musical, but it’s a fun summer fling.

Table Top Roleplaying game company Chaosium turns fifty years old this year, with its flagship game, Call of Cthulhu, hitting 44 this same year. As the name implies, it’s inspired by the works of HP Lovecraft and has arguably been the driving force behind keeping the Cthulhu Mythos in the public eye for so long.

Call Of Cthulhu – Live In The Library takes this long-running horror role-playing game and turns it into a public spectacle, using a skilled games master (called a Keeper in the game’s parlance) and a series of guest actors and comedians.  Similar to shows like Tartan Tabletop or Dimension 20, this is essentially long-form improv with very specific rules and a setting. The story looks like it’s telling itself, but it’s all down to a very well-oiled machine. Chaosium has outdone itself by producing such a fun show.

Mike Mason is the show’s Keeper, the ringmaster responsible for keeping the story going. Mike is also Chaosium’s Creative Director for the game, so he knows a thing or two about the setting and the system. It’s always a pleasure to see a master of their craft use their skills, and Mike can be easily described as one of the best Call of Cthulhu Keepers in the world.

The show we saw included a collection of comedians and performers who are all part of the gaming entertainment space. Becca Scott, Sam See and Jon Gracey are mostly known for hosting games themselves, and Sydney Amanuel and Josephine McAdam are specifically actors with a talent for shows such as this.

This was a carefully considered mix of players, all of whom balanced game play with audience interaction to create something delightful. Add in the setting, the lecture hall of the National Library of Scotland, and the overall effect is a very good and highly entertaining show.

Excellent spooky fun.

You can learn about Call of Cthulhu live shows here and learn more about Chaosium and their products here.

The Electric Head is a long-form improv comedy show, powered by a single comedy duo. Al Ronald and Cy Henty are both genre writers; Henty mostly in horror, and Al has worked on everything from Doctor Who to WWE. Their latest show promises to ‘find the meaning of life or go mad trying’. We suspect the result will be the latter, but it’s very funny to watch them try.

Long-form improv can be tricky. You’re reliant on the audience coming up with enough story ideas to make a decent show, but mostly it comes down to raw creative talent and the ability to invent a story (and make it funny) on the spot.  Luckily, the pair are both writers who are used to a tight deadline.

It’s worth pointing out that the show is pretty much themed depending on how the audience prompts the pair at the start of the show. The performers ask for some stories and weave them into the act. This means that a show with an audience of goths will be quite different to one filled with a Hen party.  Audience participation is minimal; we get a bit at the start, and then our comedians tell their ridiculous tale.

The result is something very akin to Vic and Bob at the height of their silliness, but with a healthy dose of Inside No 9 style weirdness. This is a show deeply steeped in the British Telefantasy tradition, in the sense that it’s dark, warm and very peculiar.  Al and Cy are also very funny and don’t shy away from milking a situation or idea for every possible gag and pun they can think of before moving on.

The Edinburgh Festival Fringe is often highlighted as a way of showcasing talent, and we doubt we’d have seen this show without the Fringe. STARBURST readers are likely to adore this creepy cult comedy show; they are well worth seeking out. Brilliantly weird and weirdly brilliant.

You can book tickets for the Edinburgh Fringe show here and learn more about Electric Head and their future shows here.

Lein is comedian Marjolien Robertson’s third show that has been to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Her previous shows were called Marj and O. Give yourself a tiny prize if you can figure out the naming convention. Their new show is a mix of storytelling and stand-up comedy.

And as this is a stand-up comedy show, and Marjolein likes to be contrary, the show begins with them lying down.  And then screaming. Which is unexpected. They do then stand up and proceed to be very, very funny. We get into the swing of things, and this is a very powerful, very clever and carefully considered yet warm routine which will keep you gripped throughout.

Marjolien is from Shetland, and they’re known for mixing personal experiences in with tall tales drawn from folklore; there’s a strong tradition of oral storytelling from Shetland (and indeed Scotland as a whole). Morjolien’s genius is to blend these stories in with personal experience with the consistent energy and passion; the same loving detail she gives to the folktales is also given to her personal anecdotes.

This is a show about figuring out who you are and how the decisions you make form your future. It’s essentially a narrative about why dreams are important, both those felt whilst asleep and those imagined when awake. Our dreams define us in many ways, as much as adversity or health does.

Marjolien Robertson is an incredibly charismatic performer who is brilliant at keeping the audience hanging on every word. Gentle and strong, this is mesmerising; even the bits that are inspired by mime and improv, which is quite the trick. Splendid stuff.

You can book tickets for the Edinburgh Fringe show here and learn more about Marjolein here.

Float is a one-person show by writer and performer Indra Wilson. It’s about pregnancy and miscarriage, and uses space travel, NASA and the Apollo programmes as the extended metaphor and euphemism for motherhood.

The analogy is easy to handle; the boyfriend is called NASA, sex is described as ‘fitness training’, and pregnant women are astronauts. The show opens with Indra in a space suit, and the stage is lit in a moody, smoky way, reminiscent of a David Bowie music video.

This is the story of someone who is fascinated with the unknown and exploration, and has also always sought motherhood as long as they can remember. Their own mother is delighted when our narrator announces their pregnancy. The boyfriend, not so much; NASA abandons its astronaut to go on the nine-month mission on their own.

The show is a lyrical and mesmerising monologue on humanity’s journey into the unknown. The space exploration metaphor is incredibly well used. Indra peppers the performance with various effects, both physical and verbal.

This is also a story of loss, specifically miscarriage, and it is utterly devastating, Indra communicating the heartbreak effortlessly to a teary-eyed audience. The consequent discovery of hope, allies, friends and lovers is all the more underlined by the loss.

This is a personal story, well told. From the insistence that Astronaut Barbie was the first American astronaut to a brilliantly managed scene involving the Apollo missions, there’s a lot for fans of space fiction to take in here, and the performance is both gentle and brutal at the same time.

Float is brilliant. A must-see.

You can book tickets for the Edinburgh Fringe show here and learn more about F-Bomb and their future shows here.

Lauren Brady’s Swan? is a radical and hilarious re-imagining of the story of Swan Lake.  Anyone who has actually encountered a swan understands that they’re less like mystically graceful creatures and more like wild-eyed maniacs who are best either placated or avoided. Swan? is the story of a woman turned into a swan by a passing wizard and sent into exile and loneliness because of it.

Or maybe it’s about the perils of dating in a modern society. Or simply the perils of dating men in any society. The question mark in the title is there for a reason.  Regardless, this is a show about a chain-smoking, cynical and very, very funny swan lady who really, really needs a decent date.

Bubbly, funny and bizarrely horny, Swan? is a scream into the face of the patriarchy and an antidote to the toxicity that plagues femininity and masculinity. It’s unrelenting, personal and also one of those shows that if you try to explain it properly to your work colleagues at the office, well, they’ll probably avoid you for the rest of the day.

This is a clown show; physical comedy that relies on the total commitment from the performer.  We’re slightly concerned that Brady has somehow grown feathers through sheer willpower alone, so dedicated they are to the bit.

There is some audience participation; there’s an extended gag about a requirement for a hero, and prompts are solicited (via bits of paper) at the start of the show. It does not go the way you’d expect, but does happen to be deeply funny.

Brilliant, thought-provoking stuff. Simply incredible.

You can book tickets for the Edinburgh Fringe show here and learn more about the artist here.