Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

There’s no denying Frankie Thompson’s absolute commitment to her performance, with commanding physicality, exquisite timing and brilliantly exaggerated facial expressions bringing characters to life.

She grabbed the Fringe world’s attention in 2022, with the entirely lip-synched Catts, perfectly timed (aptly enough) to catch the post-pandemic TikTok boom with the high-concept idea of staging a one-woman version of a certain much-derided musical.

Now she has branched out into original standalone creations as well as the mimed segments, vomiting up one of the titular Horrible Things after another. But is it churlish to wish her talents had created something more coherent or with more purpose than fragmented sketches?

The closest thing to a clear theme is the exposure of the unpleasant sides of our ruling classes – or maybe just men in general – via the ‘found comedy’ footage she so brilliantly mouths along with.

Many people are probably aware of the interview Jacob Rees-Mogg gave at the age of 12, revealing his early obsession with money and naked desire to be a capitalist overlord. Weirder is the late journalist Christopher Hitchens recalling being spanked by Margaret Thatcher with a rolled-up parliamentary order paper and a sexual glint in her eye. Don’t have nightmares, kids. (Speaking of which, we should get a trigger warning that the show features Matt Hancock).

The most horrible of these horrible things is the scene she titles ‘a selection of men on a park bench’, which reveals the shady work of political party whips, and the genuinely troubling things they may have covered up. As it plays out she smears herself in cream because… well, clowning.

Some things barely need underlining how weird they are, such as Frank Sinatra’s narcissistic Trilogy: Past Present Future album, but she nails its hubristic heights excellently.

Outside of the lip-synching, Thompson reveals a demanding, haughty persona cajoling the audience – though she is nowhere near as bullying as the ghost of the Victorian governess who comes to haunt the gig.

Those browbeaten into joining the comic on stage generally seem to enjoy the experience, especially the scene culminating in a joyous spinning dance that ultimately spreads, with some encouragement, to the whole audience. It’s all great fun, but missing something meatier.

Review date: 20 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard