6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Edinburgh Reporter
Fringe 2025 – Alright Sunshine ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Nicky is here to talk about her life as an Edinburgh police officer. She's actually waiting for a meeting with her seniors, but in the meantime she'll fill us in on her daily schedule.
She's wanted to join the police since she was a little girl. Her Dad was in the force, you see. He kept the city safe, and now that's what she's doing. She's proud of her job.
Nicky's beat is on Edinburgh's Meadows. They, like everywhere else in the city, have a daily routine – and a nightly one. You can't mess with a routine – if you do, the result is chaos. Nicky keeps everything under control. Including herself.
We can tell right from the beginning of Isla Cowen's Alright Sunshine that Nicky is a powder keg of barely supressed emotion. Molly Geddes' razor sharp, drumfire delivery barrages us with information. Nicky knows everything about her patch; the joggers, the dogwalkers, the old ladies carrying their shopping. The teenage drinkers. The Morningside Mummies – 'An existential scream behind their Chanel lipstick'.
At first it's (intentionally) hard to tell whether Nicky's energy comes from enthusiasm for her work or exasperation with the people she has to police. Her descriptions of daytime Meadows' frequenters are very funny indeed; if you live in Edinburgh you'll recognise every one, in fact you may well be one. The summer, she says, makes everyone worse, including all those middle-class types with their barbecues, beer and Frisbees.
As Nicky's story continues, it's clear her Dad's been the major influence in her life. She idolised him. She didn't even mind when he missed her birthdays; he was out there keeping everyone safe. Including her. Or was he? When she speaks of her Mum, it's with disgust and pity. Mum isn't strong like Nicky and Dad; she cries like a girl. Mum wanted her to wear a dress to the meeting, to get the sympathy vote. Nicky's having none of that; why should she?
Gradually little hints are fed into the narrative. When Mum's out Dad indulges Nicky with tomato sauce sandwiches, 'our little secret'….
But all the time he's hammering home a message,
'Dinna be emotional, dinna let them think you're weak, DINNA BE A GIRL'
Of course Dad was 'impatient' with Mum; with all the pressures of his job, what did she expect?
Cowen and Geddes bring these unseen characters alive. I came away with a very clear picture of bully boy Dad and cowed, fearful Mum.
So now Nicky devotes her entire life to the police. Overtime, paperwork, patrols with male officers (because it's thought a man is less likely to hit an officer if he's accompanied by a woman.) Her long-suffering boyfriend's left her, but was that really because she worked long hours? As Nicky becomes increasingly agitated, the reason for her distancing from Rob surfaces, despite her attempts to 'push it all down.'
Geddes moves from funny to deadly serious with great skill. A slight pause here, a look there; she never fails to take the audience with her. As the truth starts to emerge from all the bluster, we realise why control is so important to Nicky, why she has suppressed her emotions for so long. She's tried so hard to act like a man, to please her Dad, satisfy the police force's needs, turn a blind eye to the appalling behaviour of male officers ('It's all just a laugh.') Even confronted by a scene of appalling domestic violence, she didn't cry, she kept it all in. The records of the perpetrator's earlier assaults were lost, the incidents never followed up.
And now Nicky's been forced to acknowledge that all of this has got her nowhere, or at least nowhere she wants to be. The patriarchy has wronged her, and so many other women, in every imaginable way. She's not worried, she says, about the forthcoming disciplinary hearing. Men ('including Dad') only ever get a rap over the knuckles so why should she be any different? But Cowen's script and Geddes' actions make it clear that Nicky is very worried, she knows all too well that this isn't how things go for women,
''Don't be a girl'….I AM A F—ING GIRL!'
There are very few props in this show; Geddes is well able to carry the monologue without them. Her police uniform is, however, used to powerful effect. It's Nicky's protection, psychologically as much as physically. It makes her feel safe when she's patrolling the Meadows at night. Without it she's as vulnerable as the next woman, walking home alone at night. Nicky tells women to take a cab, carry your keys in your fist, avoid dark places. Cowen paints a vivid and very real picture of the Meadows after dark; insufficient lighting, lonely paths, noises behind you. (Saoirse Ronan: 'That's what girls have to think about all the time. Am I right ladies?')
Music is used to excellent effect. As Nicky begins to implode, the rushing sound in her head grows unbearably, overwhelmingly, loud. The show's lighting is also well done, particularly the threatening darkness of the nighttime walk across the Meadows. There is no sunshine any more, 'alright' or not.
As Nicky is called in to face the music, she puts on her police jacket and slowly, very slowly, places her hat on her head. It's a silent moment of realisation. The audience is hushed. This is what institutionalised misogyny does to women; female police officers, victims of domestic violence, wives of 'strong' men, women simply walking home at night.
Alright Sunshine is a Wonder Fools production. See it at Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), 1 Bristo Square (Venue 23) at 4.20pm every day until 24 August. Please note there is no performance on Mondays 4, 11 and 18 August.
Please also don't be like me and go to the wrong Pleasance site! This one is in the Edinburgh University Students' Association building in Bristo Square.
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