Three Very Different Shows, One Very Fringe Experience
Three shows. Three completely different worlds. One reminder that the Fringe is at its best when you walk in not knowing what you’re about to get.
Another year, another Fringe Festival comes to an end. The New York Fringe has been a staple for a long time, and this iteration, the FRIGID New York Fringe Festival, has been around for nearly twenty years. I had the opportunity to select three shows from the lineup to review and to give a sense of what one might find at a festival like this. Because while the Fringe is grand and full of exciting indie theater, it can also feel overwhelming. There are so many shows, and you never quite know what you are going to get, especially when you are not being dragged along by a friend but are simply going for your own love of theater.
To mirror that experience, I was given free rein to choose three shows at random. Not to toot my own horn, but all three ended up winning awards at the festival, so maybe I am a bit of a good luck charm. Enough preamble. Let’s get into it.
First, I saw Book Club, written and directed by Francesca Bolam. The play follows a group of women who gather to discuss their monthly book selection but end up doing anything but. They meet at Claire’s apartment, played by Alice Higman, who clearly serves as the “mom” of the group, organized and eager to accommodate everyone. She is soon joined by Yasmin, played by Sadie Pillion Gardner, the group’s “hippie,” though we later learn she is more of a nepo-hippie. Yasmin kicks things off with a monologue about her latest passion, setting the tone for a character who frequently launches into such speeches. Pillion Gardner plays the airy, seemingly scattered character with surprising depth, and the audience is drawn in immediately.
At its core, Book Club feels distinctly European in the best way. It sits comfortably in that genre of plays where a group gathers for dinner, revelations unfold, and comedy and drama blur together. Rachel, played by Skye Themeda Goss, enters as the polished corporate type, followed by Devi, played by Madeline Doré, a chaotic free spirit who is very different from Yasmin, and finally Zoe, played by Tedecia Wint, the group’s true anchor and only actual mother. Bolam does an excellent job establishing each character quickly, and the cast’s chemistry makes their relationships believable. Doré, in particular, stands out with an energetic performance that feels straight out of a British television show, while Higman’s Claire grounds the play with quiet strength.
The opening is strong and well paced, spending about fifteen to twenty minutes introducing the characters and their dynamics. It is easy to settle into their world. From there, the play unfolds through a series of revelations that are both hilarious and heartbreaking. Yasmin’s relationship with her father, Rachel’s professional struggles, and Devi’s reckless lifestyle all come to the surface. Things truly escalate when Zoe arrives, bringing with her tension from a troubled marriage and the revelation that her husband may not be faithful and may not be exclusively interested in women. Complicating matters further, Rachel already knew.
As the evening continues, more secrets are revealed, including Devi’s pregnancy. The emotional climax comes when Claire finally breaks down and expresses her pain over not having a child while Devi has one she does not want. The play does a remarkable job making the audience care about these women. Higman’s performance becomes especially powerful in these moments, portraying a woman who does everything “right” yet still feels she has fallen short. Doré also excels in showing Devi’s conflicting emotions.
The pacing remains steady, and the drama is balanced well with humor. Overall, it is an engaging and enjoyable experience.
However, the ending feels abrupt. When Claire finally asserts herself and confronts the group, it seems like the play is about to explore the aftermath of that moment, but instead it ends. It feels like it needed an epilogue or some form of resolution. A few characters could also benefit from further development, though that likely comes down to runtime. For example, we are told that Zoe is beloved by everyone, but we do not fully see that side of her. Yasmin and Rachel also feel like they could have been explored more deeply toward the end.
That said, this is not a negative conclusion. Wanting more is a good problem to have. The show won the box office award and the audience choice award, and it clearly resonated. It deserves a longer life and perhaps a slightly longer runtime.
Next, I saw Desi SNL, which I approached with a fair amount of skepticism. As the title suggests, it is a parody of Saturday Night Live. I like to go into shows blind, so I walked in unsure of what to expect and, admittedly, a bit apprehensive. The theater was packed and buzzing, which immediately caught my attention.
A quick aside: I am Turkish, so I can usually sense when something is “for the culture.” That was clearly the case here, though I did not yet understand how. That became clear when Azhar Bande-Ali took the stage. He serves as the writer, director, producer, and host, and he opened the show by explaining what we were about to see.
Desi SNL is exactly what it sounds like: a version of SNL centered on Pakistani and broader South Asian culture. The show consists of a mix of live and pre-recorded sketches that explore everyday experiences through that lens. The cast is strong, with natural comedic instincts and charisma, which are essential for this kind of format.
The show has its rough moments. When it misses, it really misses, and there are stretches of awkward silence. The limitations of live performance are also apparent. Scene changes can feel slow, and the transitions are sometimes clunky. Pre-recorded sketches help fill those gaps, though they vary in quality.
But when it works, it really works. The humor feels earned, and the cultural specificity adds a layer that makes the experience unique. Some sketches revolve around familiar SNL-style premises, but filtered through a different perspective. The show does not go out of its way to explain cultural references, and yet it remains accessible. You understand enough to feel included, even if you are not part of that world.
What ultimately stands out is the heart behind it. The cast clearly believes in what they are doing, and Bande-Ali comes across as someone genuinely passionate about creating something meaningful and fun. His closing speech, where he thanks the entire team by name, reinforces that sense of community.
The show won the Outstanding Ensemble award and a top grossing award, which feels well deserved. It is not perfect, but it is compelling, and it offers something different.
Finally, I saw A Stan Is Born, a solo musical written and performed by Alexis Sakellaris. I went in with no expectations and assumed it might be about a character named Stan. It is not. It is a deeply personal and heartfelt story about Alexis himself.
The show is a love letter to self-discovery as a queer person and to the role that pop divas can play in shaping identity. The stage is simple, with a piano and a collection of tour shirts from artists like Céline Dion, Beyoncé, Rihanna, Mariah Carey, and Madonna. Despite the minimal setup, the show is incredibly engaging.
The audience was small at first due to train delays, which made the prospect of a solo, audience-facing performance feel potentially awkward. But Alexis quickly won everyone over with his first song. His energy is infectious, and his connection with the audience is immediate.
He tells the story of growing up in Manhattan before moving to a small town in Germany, where he struggled to accept his identity. Music and divas became his refuge and inspiration. The show moves through a series of songs and scenes depicting his journey, culminating in a painful moment when a crush uses a slur against him. In that moment, the illusion of his imagined support system collapses, and he is left to confront his loneliness.
But the story does not end there. Alexis realizes that he does not need distant idols to feel seen. He has “divas” in his own life, in his mother, his godmother, and his friends. The show ends with the affirmation that everyone can be a diva in their own way.
Alexis is also an excellent singer, which is crucial for a solo musical. The production is technically impressive, with smooth transitions and strong pacing. The show won the Spirit of the Fringe award, and it is easy to see why.
Three shows, three completely different experiences. A character-driven dramedy, a culturally specific sketch comedy, and an introspective solo musical. That is the beauty of the Fringe.
If you are willing to take a chance, the festival rewards you. Pick a few shows at random and commit to them. You may not love everything, but the moments that do resonate will stay with you. I will remember Devi’s reaction to her pregnancy, Claire’s breakdown, the unexpected humor of Desi SNL, and Alexis’s reminder that we are all divas.
And that is what makes it worth it.
