Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

A bell on stage summons Mr Cardboard from a faraway land to treat the audience to a silly, charming, evocative hour of clowning. 

The standout moment here is when Miles Calderon completely improvises with body and voice, moving as if he were a puppet for the audience’s entertainment, sensing their laughs and leaning into them. Tonight, this ended with him moving through the space on hands and knees, oinking like a pig to a room full of belly laughs. 

One imagines that Mr Cardboard, whose accent sounds as though he was born on an imagined border between Italy and Spain, has been ejected from a video game or children’s book and into our world. He sparkles in ridiculous scenes such as making animals out of cardboard that you will have to see to believe. 

The only sin in Calderon’s riotous hour of comedy is one of ambition. The show has depth, texture and a lot of great games and laughs, but it also feels that less would be more. 

There is a lot of plot here and Calderon packs in a biblical parody and a backstory to his titular character, leaning into scripted and voiceovered exposition. Some of that time might be better used to allow the audience space to savour a performer who is so at home in the spotlight, to let him play more and give the show’s big themes of childhood nostalgia and loss of innocence room to breathe.

From the engaging opening game with the bell, played in the performer’s absence, to an end sequence that goes from vulnerable to jubilant, Calderon demonstrates his range and skill. 

The Gaulier-trained clown flits from sweetness and naivety to darkness quickly, without losing the room. He uses props, lighting and one-liners smoothly and has some great catchphrases that stick in the mind. His joy in making connections is clear and he turns moments that fail to land into big laughs.

The Passion of Mr Cardboard calls on the audience to reflect on their own loss of innocence - from childhood games and friends they lost along the way to things that brought them joy in their youth. 

It is impressive that in 55 minutes Calderon achieves all that he does while delivering a rhythmic stream of gags, but there is a sense that it is a little rushed, reliant on some handholding to get us through,

A virtuosic Calderon takes risks and is rewarded, particularly in a stripped back, vulnerable and touching moment late in the show where he appears as himself, plays the guitar and sings.

This is a great hour of clown comedy and a clever, evocative piece of funny theatre that would benefit from more time or less material.

Review date: 17 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: John Simpson
Reviewed at: Underbelly George Square