Highlights
- Joe Kent-Walters returns with a devilish cabaret hosted by his undead alter ego, Frankie Monroe
- Desiree Burch tackles menopause, rage and rebirth in a fierce solo comeback
- Rosie O’Donnell brings raw political fire and personal truths to her Fringe debut
- Chat Sht, Get Hit* unleashes feminist fury through football chants and punk poetry
- Musicals like Club NVRLND and Hot Mess mix nostalgia with emotional gut punches
Right. Edinburgh in August. It hits you like a wall of damp flyers, cheap lager, and pure, unhinged possibility. Some people come to the Fringe looking to laugh. Others want to cry, escape, question everything, or maybe just get weird for 60 minutes. But this year? This year feels different.
Edinburgh Fringe 2025 is not playing it safe. It’s messier. Angrier. Sharper. Funnier. Queerer. Louder. Softer. All of it, all at once. It's a festival that seems to be screaming: "Pay attention. Feel something. And for god's sake, stop scrolling."
Cutting through the 3,900-show chaos? Brutal. So forget the algorithm, ditch the polite curator voice. This is your raw, slightly sweaty, absolutely essential hit list.
Joe Kent-Walters: Is Frankie Monroe DEAD!!!
Monkey Barrel at Cabaret Voltaire, 28 July–24 Aug (not 11, 12), 13:10
Frankie Monroe is back from the underworld, still in a sequin jacket, still chain-smoking, and still dragging you into his haunted little nightclub of broken dreams. Joe Kent-Walters, last year's Best Newcomer winner, is pure chaos incarnate. Expect Frankie Monroe to grab you, embarrass you, and leave you shrieking. This show is loud, grubby, slightly cursed, and completely brilliant.
Chat Sht, Get Hit*
Summerhall, Aug 1–24, 16:49
Football chants, poetry, and fists full of female rage. Why are angry women so scary? This isn’t a polite show, it’s a riot in verse. It’s what happens when women stop apologising and start screaming. This debut play tears into misogyny with the energy of a punk protest and the heart of something like Fleabag. If you’ve ever felt silenced or sidelined, this one will set something on fire inside you. Absolutely necessary viewing. Go feel the rage.
Rosie O’Donnell: Common Knowledge
Assembly George Square (dates TBA), 16:49
Rosie O’Donnell at the Fringe! Let that sink in. The Emmy-winner makes her debut, scorching earth on her 20-year Trump feud, parenthood, and fleeing the US. A comedy legend, live, unfiltered, and ready to roast power structures. Rosie isn’t here to be liked. She’s here to say the things she’s been biting her tongue on for years. This is history happening. Get a ticket!
Desiree Burch: The Golden Wrath
Monkey Barrel 3, 28 July–10 Aug, 14:00
This is what stand-up looks like when a woman walks through fire and comes out spitting glitter and truth. Perimenopause, midlife fury, and raw, funny-as-hell honesty. Sharp as a razor, relatable as hell, and explosively funny. Raw, political stand-up that feels like therapy with a punchline. Desiree doesn’t care if you’re comfortable, she cares if you’re listening.
Club NVRLND
Assembly Checkpoint, 1–24 August, 14:49
Millennials! Remember Neverland? Now imagine Peter Pan met Britney Spears in a nightclub, and they talked about millennial burnout and housing crises until 3AM. That’s this show. It’s pop nostalgia, glitter, heartbreak, and economic despair, all set to a beat you can dance to. This one hurts in the best way.
Andrew Doherty: Sad Gay AIDS Play
Pleasance Dome, 30 July–24 Aug, 15:49
Yes, the title grabs you. But this isn’t trauma porn. It’s dark, yes, and absurd, and funny in the way only horror-comedy can be. It’s daring, uncomfortable, and probably brilliant. Doherty manages to poke at fear, fatigue, and queer rage with real tenderness. Not for the faint-hearted, but essential for those craving something truly different. Expect gasps and guffaws.
Make It Happen
Festival Theatre, 1–24 Aug, 14:00
Brian Cox. Post-Succession. Playing the ghost of economist Adam Smith. Haunting the ghost of the disgraced RBS CEO Fred Goodwin. About the 2008 financial crash. James Graham wrote it. Cox’s first Scottish stage role in ages? Yeah, this is going to be intense. It’s capitalism’s A Christmas Carol. Creepy, sharp and peak Fringe energy.
- YouTube youtu.be
Jordan Gray: Is That a C*ck in Your Pocket, or Are You Just Here to Kill Me?
Assembly George Square Gardens, 30 July–24 Aug (not 6, 12, 19), 15:10
Channel 4’s trans powerhouse Jordan Gray is back, swinging hard at the backlash. This is a cowboy-musical-comedy-satire-anthem-slinging revenge gig, and it’s glorious. She’s taking every pearl-clutching headline from last year and turning it into a mic drop moment. You’ll laugh, you’ll cheer, you might cry, but mostly, you’ll witness what it looks like when someone turns hate into glitter-fuelled defiance. Expect big laughs, bigger tunes, and a whole lot of heart.
Mr Chonkers
Summerhall, 31 July–24 Aug (not 11, 18), 14:10
You’re not ready for Mr. Chonkers. No one is. John Norris’s floppy clown alter ego is the kind of show you stumble into hungover and walk out changed. It's physical comedy on acid, complete with Gregorian chants, inflatable nonsense, and audience participation that feels like a fever dream. If absurdity had a mascot, it’d be this guy. It’s weird. It’s wild. It’s absolute Fringe magic.
How to Win Against History
Underbelly George Square, 1–24 August, 14:00
A closeted Victorian aristocrat sets fire to his inheritance to stage terrible musicals in a self-made theatre, and we love him for it. This Fringe legend is camp as tits, hilarious, and somehow genuinely touching. The songs slap. The wigs are tragic. The message? History belongs to the weirdos. If you miss this, you’re doing Fringe wrong.
No, but seriously...
The Fringe isn’t just about theatre. Or comedy. Or cabaret. It’s about connection. In a world built on distraction and performance, these shows ask you to actually feel something.
But isn’t that kind of the point?
That’s why you go. That’s what this list is about.
If you’re heading to Edinburgh this August, don’t just scroll the star ratings. Listen to your gut, see something that scares you a little, talk to strangers in queues, and soak it all in. And maybe, just maybe, let yourself get a little lost.
Diljit Dosanjh on the set of Kufar during the controversial dance shoot Instagram/piyush_bhagat 
