A woman processing breaking up with her abusive ex by forming a Lynn-from-Alan-Partridge-themed punk band is exactly the kind of absurdist concept you’d expect from a Fringe show. Largely, the play lives up to its potential, balancing humour and pathos, building to a rousingly liberated – and liberating – finale. At times, though, the balance is less effective, the transitions abrupt. The jarring discomfort may be intentional, may even be the point, but nonetheless they inhibit the show’s effectiveness. Worse, a few of the play’s early lines are lost entirely, muffled by face masks, or off-mic delivery. Arguably this, too, may be intentional commitment to a punk-aesthetic, but it can’t help but weaken a play when you can’t hear the dialogue.

Summerhall, until 26 Aug.
tw rating 3/5 | [Andy Leask]