Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

This is the unsexiest show about sex you’re ever likely to see. A wonderfully weird celebration of the awkwardness of intimacy, performed with a powerfully distinctive aesthetic. 

The bold surrealism is both otherworldly – helped in huge part by the deranged physicality real-life couple Ada Player and Bron Waugh bring to their performance – yet distantly rooted in recognisable cringe.

This world, simultaneously strange and familiar, is set up with an atmospheric preamble set in the mists of time in which an amorphous white blob splits into two human-like forms. Ever since, people have been seeking to reunite with their other half.

The first couple we meet seem not to have done that, a dreary pair trapped in a loveless suburban marriage. We’re  apparently in the 1970s, judging from Waugh’s tank-top and the fact we seem to enter the territory of that era’s corny sex comedies when he starts fizzing with insane randy energy at the prospect of next-door neighbour Judy coming round.

As with many scenes, the lines are delivered with a hugely exaggerated theatricality y, the pair striking dramatic poses as they intone their dialogue. Player and Waugh are utterly in control of this, and what could be an irritating affectation becomes a key part of what makes the show so hilarious, with each able to vary their energy on a scale from manic goblin to lifeless robot.

Kudos  too, to third wheel Ed Lyness, providing the perfect jazz soundtrack to underpin the scenes, and occasionally some crucial voiceover, too.

Other characters we meet include nervous adolescents, uncertain if their inner monologue is audible, strange creatures of the night, a sinister incel and a cutesy, maybe Alpine, couple sweet-talking each other.

A standout running scene features two rockers, offering an unpleasant answer to the ambiguity raised by Meatloaf’s I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That). This absurdly toxic couple tap into themes of obsession, control, and animalistic, transgressive behaviour.

The heightened execution of all these over-the-top creations is exquisite, yet never loses the humanity at their heart, whether defined by yearning, lust, sadness or contentment. The script is witty, too, ensuring The Origin Of Love is laugh-out-loud from start to finish. 

Ada and Bron already have a Bafta nomination under their belt for their Channel 4 short, Peaked. This unique debut proves that was no fluke, and that they can cut it live, too. The cult starts here, get in on it.

• Chortle’s coverage of sketch and multi-character acts at the Edinburgh Fringe is supported by (but not influenced by) the Seven Dials Playhouse in London. Read more

Review date: 11 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard