Sydney Reid

Fakespeare is proof that sometimes all it takes is one person, a stage, and a whole lot of charisma to make Shakespeare click. This single-man show tackled "the Scottish play" with modern language, quick wit, and just the right amount of improv to keep the audience on our toes.

The whole thing had a bard-like quality, almost like a shanty in an old tavern—storytelling with rhythm, call and response, and plenty of laughter rolling through the room. That energy pulled us right into the story, making us feel less like passive spectators and more like part of the tale itself.

What really struck me was how seamlessly he shifted between characters, breaking down centuries-old text into something sharp, funny, and instantly understandable. I left realizing I had more clarity on Macbeth than I ever did in high school, and with a lot more laughs along the way.

Fakespeare turns Shakespeare into something alive and hilarious. If only English class had looked like this, I might’ve passed the first time.

This was one of those “filler” picks on my schedule, but wow—sometimes the shows you don’t plan for end up being the real gems. Charismatic & Cautious, the title of our performance, had me and the entire audience laughing so hard it felt like we’d all joined in on a shared inside joke.

What I loved was the mix: the comfort of Austen-style Regency romance we all recognize, paired with the unpredictable chaos of improv. The cast leaned into every silly flub, turning accidents into gold, and then hit us with quick-witted, perfectly timed one-liners that landed every single time. You could see them surprising each other as much as the audience, which only made it more fun to watch.

Somehow, amidst all the comedy, a genuine love story still unfolded. It was messy, ridiculous, and unexpectedly sweet—a romance written on the fly, with the kind of heart you don’t always expect from improv. By the end, I was completely won over.

This is exactly the kind of Fringe magic I adore: clever, chaotic, heartfelt, and an absolute blast. An hour well spent, and one I’d happily sit through again tomorrow.

I went in expecting camp and comedy — and I got that in spades — but Drag Me to the Opera surprised me with how deeply it hit. The story of a young man chasing his dream of becoming an opera singer while battling imposter syndrome and self-doubt felt achingly real.

I laughed, I cried. The mix of fun facts, drag performance, and beautifully sung arias pulled me right in. The arias especially cut through — those moments where the music lifted the emotions so high I felt them in my chest.

What I loved most is how the show celebrates finding your authentic self. It doesn’t just tell you “be yourself,” it shows the messy, funny, heartbreaking journey of what that actually looks like. By the end, I felt like I’d been taken on a ride that was equal parts fabulous and profound.

For anyone who loves opera, drag, or simply a story that makes you feel seen, this is one not to miss.