Holly Gow: How Can(t) I Help? | Edinburgh Fringe theatre review
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Holly Gow: How Can(t) I Help?

Edinburgh Fringe theatre review

Since Adam Kay’s soaraway success, every aspect of working for the NHS has been probed in the name of comedy. Now it’s the turn of the humble GP’s receptionist. Or maybe not so humble if you’ve ever tried to get past these formidable gatekeepers.

‘Everyone thinks I’m a bitch,’ is Holly Gow’s constant complaint, perhaps not surprising given she rarely allows access to the doctor the callers to her surgery seek. 

The stage version of herself in is not an especially sympathetic character, especially not at first, given the lack of empathy she shows to her callers – confirming all the suspicions of anyone who’s ever made a futile 8am call. 

She dismisses many patients out of hand, their demands for appointments they might very well need seen as assaults on her mental health. When one swears at her, she takes a ‘mindfulness break’ – though given the demands of the health service, it doesn’t last very long. 

Other callers are portrayed as timewasters, overly entitled or just plain rude and therefore deserving of her snarky scorn. Drawn from her real experiences on the NHS frontline, this comes across more as a litany of workplace grumbles than serving a greater dramatic purpose. 

Despite the negativity of her material, however, Gow’s a personable performer, fun to hang out with. Slowly she demonstrates a softer side towards some of the Flowerbank Surgery patients, especially an Irish Nana called Maureen. It’s clear she shows affection to the patients who treat her as a human, not just a robotic obstacle to the medical attention they demand.

She acts out all the callers, demonstrating a command of accents and a talent for snapshot characterisation. But often the humour’s pretty basic, and base. If there’s one gag about stool samples there are a dozen, with other patients suffering foreign objects up their backside or painful self-inflicted agony in the nether regions. Ultimately, thought, the impression is that she has to deal with much more metaphorical shit that the actual stuff. NHS bureaucracy and the futility of the ‘clap for carers’ that did little to boost her morale during Covid are also among the valid bugbears. 

This is Gow’s first piece of writing – and that naivety does show in a piece that doesn’t have much dramatic shape beyond the obligatory sad bit that arrives bang on cue at the 40-minute mark and a slightly tacked-on message that women shouldn’t fear the smear’.

Review date: 22 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Greenside @ George Street

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