This is the kind of show where you just have to go with it. This one-woman cabaret set in pickle jar requires giving in to the absurdity, clapping the dancing gherkin, and not troubling yourself with questions about the jar’s internal logic. You also need an iron stomach for puns. Its vignettes, each concerned with its own vegetable, all slightly outstay their welcome in that way that stops being funny, then loops around to being funny again. Performer Ruxandra Cantir is incredibly expressive, contorting her face and howling in a way that truly sells the anguish of an uneaten tomato. The ramshackle energy is perhaps ill-served by the early-afternoon slot; a late-night crowd might have crunched these pickles with more relish.

Summerhall, until 25 Aug.
tw rating 3/5 | [Jon Stapley]