Acts are spending huge amounts on flyers, posters, and other promotional activities. But is any of it worthwhile?

The performer Danielle Solof has a fascinating blog post "My Real Fringe Budgets, Line-by-Line" which details the actual costs of her taking two solo shows to the Fringe. She meticulously details the price of everything from transport and food, to advertising and graphic design. She says:

I paid for outdoor ads because absolutely no one in Edinburgh knew who I was. They did help, but you still have to grind to get an audience in.

My question to her - and all performers - is how do you know what drives an audience member to see your show?

It can't have escaped your attention that everything we do online is tracked. If you buy so much as a toothpick, the retailer knows which YouTube reviews you watched, which words you searched for, the other products you considered, and the specific adverts you clicked on.

In Edinburgh, no one knows nothing.

At the end of nearly every show the performer begged us to leave a review on the Fringe website and to tell our friends. In absolutely none of the shows did the performer ask why we were there, how we found out about the show, which poster or leaflet attracted us, or whether we followed them on social media.

All that money spent on posters and no one knows if they work. As the old saying goes "Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted, and the trouble is I don’t know which half.".

So, in an attempt to bring a little data to proceedings, here are how we chose the 26 shows we saw. I don't claim this is representative of everyone, but I think it might be illustrative. In rough order of importance were:

Proximity

The EdFringe app has a "nearby now" feature. Click on it and you get a list of shows starting soon which are only staggering distance away.

I cannot stress enough how much of a motivator that was. When you've spent all day traipsing, the last thing you want to do is another 20 minute walk uphill to see a provocative new piece of challenging theatre told through finger puppets.

About 20% of the shows we saw were via that feature.

Roughly another 40% were because the show was close to something else we really wanted to see. We knew that we wanted to see show X, so we looked for shows which weren't too far away from that venue. Yes, Edinburgh is a compact city with decent public transport, but it is much easier to walk round the corner or stay to have a drink in the venue's bar.

You can really want to see a show, but if it is a 20 minute walk between venues and it starts 15 minutes after your last show ends, you'll skip it. I'd say that location was the key driver in most of our choices.

I guess my top tip to any performer would be to be as near as physically possible to a bigger act!

Friends

A quarter of the shows we went to were because either a friend-of-a-friend was performing, or a friend booked tickets and asked if we wanted to tag along.

You are morally obliged to go to your friends' shows. Similarly, if a mate says "Oh, my friend has a show on this year", you have to make the effort to go.

Perhaps it is a bit blasé to say that word-of-mouth works, but it's a cliché becausé it is trué.

Flyers and Leaflets

We collected approximately 5,374 different promotional leaflets during our week there. Most of the time we were handed a leaflet by someone paid to hand out leaflets. They were either wordlessly stuffed into our hands, or delivered with a monotone "wanna see improv comdy?" Bleh.

A few actually spoke to us about the show when we asked questions, which was a deciding factor in seeing a couple of performances.

The best flyerers were, undoubtedly, the performers themselves. Kat Ronson in her Millennial Girl guise drawled at us "You look thin and pretty. You're allowed to come to my show." Instant sale!

Similarly, one rather famous comedian walked up to us and said "You look like theatre people!" and proceeded to pitch their show - which was a delightful encounter and would have sold us a ticket if we weren't leaving that day.

Some flyers had a QR code or URl on them so we could watch a trailer of the show. We didn't watch any of them. Perhaps we should have?

Posters

Surprisingly effective at drawing the eye! The ones which were just a photo of the comedian looking a bit "whacky" were dull. The ones of performers in their most seductive poses were a little naff. The ones which were just a close up of someone's face only really work if that person is incredibly famous, otherwise you're just left thinking "who?"

But a few posters made us stop and immediately search for the show. Graphic design is a professional skill and one worth investing in.

Some posters were everywhere. I took an instant (and uncharitable) dislike to one poster featuring a smug-looking twat and I swear he followed me around town. Some posters only appeared near the performance venue.

Incidentally, there were a couple of posters which had clearly just been fed into an AI generator. Lazy and off-putting.

Reviews

The Fringe doesn't allow weighted star reviews - so you can't immediately see if the consensus is that the show is a hit or a miss. Several of the shows we didn't enjoy got excellent reviews (from morons) and some of the shows we loved were panned (presumably by the same morons).

In truth, I don't think the reviews influenced our decision to see anything.

What Stopped Us Going To Shows

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. I think it is important for performers to know what stopped someone clicking the "buy" button for their show.

Ticket Cost / Value For Money

Mondays and Tuesdays saw lots of shows doing a 2-for-1 promotion. I didn't mind spending £30 for two of us to take a risk on something. Come Wednesday, I wasn't prepared to pay £60 for a 45 minute show.

I know "surge pricing" gets a bad rap, but dynamic pricing of underselling shows might help. If you've only sold four seats for today, perhaps drop the price? I don't know if the Fringe software supports that - but it seems obvious to me that having 10 people paying a fiver is better than four people paying a tenner.

Crap Signal / Long Queues

We tried to get in to a circus show. My phone didn't have enough signal for the app to work and the nearest box office had a massive queue. So we bailed.

If the venue had WiFi (not a given, weirdly) it would have gotten them an extra sale. If the ticket staff could take contactless (lots of performers did) we'd have happily paid.

You have to make it easy for people to give you money.

Not Enough Time

This is completely out of the performers' control. We had 6 days and saw about 4 shows per day. We could have seen more, but we needed to eat, explore, and sleep.

Speaking of which, there were several midnight performances which looked excellent - but I also needed to get up the next day to see more shows. Sleep won!

Too Famous

I'd love to see that guy who's on the telly. But I can watch him on the telly. That show looks like a massive success, so I'm sure it'll tour round London soon.

Sell Outs

A few shows sold out before we could get tickets. Good for them! If that was your show, you probably don't need this blog post.

Better Art Through Commerce

Art should be driven by passion.

But every performer I know listens back to their shows to see what works and what didn't. If a joke falls flat, it's cut. If a riff gets a big laugh, it's incorporated. That's the essence of data driven decision making.

I wish every performer at the Fringe had a sell out audience and were able to recoup their costs. But that is never going to happen unless they spend time understanding what gets bums on seats.

So here are a few scattered thoughts on how they could do that.

• QR code at the end of the show leading to a survey. Literally ask people "what made you choose this performance?"
• In the queue before the show, or as people are taking their seats, hand out a paper questionnaire.
• Talk to the audience after the show. See if you can gain any insights about what made them attend.
• As people are coming in, have a poster asking people to tick a box based on how they heard about the show.
• Give each leaflet a unique code (or a code per person handing them out). Ask people to bring the leaflet with them so you can see which area/person/leaflet was most effective.
• Each poster can have a unique QR code on it. Track whether the one by the station led to more ticket sales than the one in the underpass. Did the one in the gents toilets get any scans at all?

Of course, all of the above rely on talking to people who made the choice to see you. This is classic Survivorship Bias. Sure, it'll help you work out what was successful, but you won't know why people looked at your show and chose something else. That said, it is hard. How do you find people who ipso facto aren't at your show?

• That could be as simple as asking people what they dislike about the leaflet when you hand it out.
• Each poster or leaflet can have a unique QR code on it. Which ones cause people to scan, but then abandon the idea of buying a ticket?
• Speak to people who came to the venue for a show other than yours. They obviously like the location, so non-confrontationally ask them why they didn't pick you?

Some of these are easier than others. By themselves, they might give you a slightly misleading view of the data. But surely anything is better than looking at a half empty venue and wondering if those huge advertising costs did any good at all.

Price

Everything is too expensive. We found student accommodation which was a "mere" £220 per night. I guess that wasn't too exorbitant considering the gouging going on elsewhere - and it did come with a decent breakfast. It was about a 20 minute walk from the Royal Mile, with several performance venues on the way.

The 46 tickets we bought cost us £550 in total - which included a few donations at Free Fringe shows. So an average ticket of £12, which isn't too bad, I guess. You can certainly do things cheaper by only going to free shows and running away when they ask you to pay - but that's a dick move.

£20 for a single hour of stand-up feels like kind of a rip off at times - especially with the mandatory £1.50 booking fee for every ticket. Some shows are a bit cheaper, and Monday/Tuesday has 2-for-1 offers. But it's easy for a couple to spend well over a hundred quid per day seeing 3 or 4 shows.

Festival food and drink prices are inflated - but there's no shortage of supermarkets if you want a meal deal. Restaurants were usual city centre prices. The bars at festival venues were fully taking advantage of their captive audience, but the pubs aren't much cheaper.

The App

In theory, the app / website is good. In reality they're both a bit frustrating to use. Every time I ticked the box saying "remember my credit card details" and every time it forgot them. Both app and website frequently timed out, failed to add tickets to baskets, and were a bit shonky. The one thing this needs to do is reliably take my money and give it to performers - but it felt like a battle every time.

We missed one show because we couldn't buy a ticket in the app despite being in the queue. The door staff didn't have the ability to sell us a ticket (although some venues can) and directed us to a box office which was dealing with a bunch of people who were bemused that they couldn't pay in dollars.

Inexplicably, the app doesn't have the ability to see show reviews, even though they're present on the website.

There's a good "Nearby Now" feature which is handy when you're exhausted and don't want to trek far. By contrast, there's no easy way to see what's on near the next venue you're going to.

Searching for shows often returns events which are cancelled or sold out.

I wish it were possible to see which shows had undersold and were starting soon. I loved taking a punt on an unknown act who only had half-a-dozen people in the room. Sadly there's no way to grab last-minute deals.

This isn't helped by the total collapse of mobile signal in Edinburgh centre. I tried with a variety of SIMs but frequently only got a trickle of data.

What To See

The FOMO is real! Every show's poster makes it look amazing. The earnest performers desperately handing out leaflets for their own shows are so enthusiastic. Everyone you speak to in a queue has a "must see" which is probably sold out.

We mostly avoided seeing big names. They'll be on telly soon enough or tour down in London. I don't think that act who was big in the 1990s needs my coin as much as some up-and-comer.

You could easily fill a week seeing nothing but Shakespeare in a variety of styles. Or just watch middle-aged white guys have mental breakdowns on stage because they're on their 3rd divorce. Or, as it turns out, fill your boots with Heated Rivalry shows.

We did the tasting menu and had a little bit of everything. It was mostly pretty good with only a few duds.

Reviews

Even the worst show we saw had a couple of people who declared it the funniest thing ever five stars lol. You can't account for someone else's taste.

I enjoyed writing my reviews - and I hope they were useful to others - but you're mostly on your own when it comes to what's good. I suppose if you wait until later in the festival there will be more of a consensus about what to see.

My philosophy is to take a punt on basically anything that doesn't look too abhorrent. Even if it is shit, there's be something else along in a minute which will be better.

Distance

You'll get your 10k steps in before lunchtime - Edinburgh is a delightfully walkable city. With a bit of planning you can walk a straight line from show-to-show. We didn't plan and traipsed back and forth like the little lost tourists we were.

Venues are mostly well sign-posted. Again, the app is a bit crap at pointing them out, but it'll open your mapping app to navigate you there.

Many of the venues are in historic buildings, so don't expect lifts or escalators. Stairs all the way, baby!

Harry Potter

Edinburgh seems like an inclusive and trans-friendly city. Half the acts on the Fringe proudly stated their LGBT+ credentials and most venues we went to had gender neutral loos.

And then every other shop proudly boasts it is 100% definitely where JKR got the inspiration for Harry Potter. Tourists are schelpped between "Diagon Alley" and probably-the-cafe-where-she-wrote while slurping down dayglo butterbeers.

Truly the duality of life!

Comfort

There's an ancient Edinburgh byelaw which prohibits cushions on seats. No chair may be wide enough to accommodate anything other than the skinniest arse. It also places a moratorium on legroom.

Ok, some of the venues were more comfortable than others, but prepare for a bit of backache.

Toilets are plentiful in most venues, and theres no shortage of pubs to pop in to if you need refreshment or relief.

Scotland isn't known for its heat, but some of the venues desperately need air-conditioning in their foyers and auditoriums. A few were handing out free water to the swealtering punters - but probably best to bring your own

Would I Come Here Again?

Yeah! I reckon so! Probably not next year, and probably with more of a plan about which "must sees" I wanted to see.

Staying closer to the centre is more expensive, but might have made it easier to see some if the shows later in the night.

There is so much talent, so much variety, and so much joy in the city that it becomes rather infectious.

If you can afford the train fare, hotel costs, tickets, booking fees, pints, chips and all the other people desperate to stick their hands into your wallet - then it is a great adventure.

For plot-related reasons, a television company asks a literary genius to create a "pro-weapons sitcom".

It is a fast paced mix of the sitcoms 2012 and Episodes. The jokes come at a steady pace - some attack with the furiousity of bullets, others the the subtlety of a knife in the night.

All four of the cast are spectacular. Turning the sometimes-stock characters into powerful avatars. The amoral Zuckerbergian horror of data driven decision making is the perfect manure in which to grow comedy roses.

It stands well against any classic farce and I hope it tours until the end of the world.

A special shout out to the Pleasance Above for being the most comfortable venue in Edinburgh! Raked auditorium, cushioned seats, and air conditioning all make for a delightful theatrical experience.

It more-or-less works as a gimmick. Although an early afternoon crowd may have been more likely to ask questions anonymously.

I've never seen a Sikh doing an unnervingly accurate impression of Trump before. Daman Bamrah did a perfect routine which blended his philosophy with the perils of the bum-gun. An unexpected but hilarious combination.

Sid Singh's set trod a fairly standard path through reactions to racism, but his discussion at the end about the inherent problems involved in writing controversial material was excellent.

Tying it all together was Alex Farrow who perfectly brought together the various philosophical strands and proved why Albert Camus was a fan of Stewart Lee.

A great set of acts at a decent price.

New Zealand's Half Trick have shrunk their full-length play into a Fringe-standard 60 minutes. That does make it a little brusque and, simultaneously, a bit repetitive. The characters don't get quite enough room to breathe. Mike Teavee has, of course, become an incel online troll - perfect! - but the rest haven't changed much.

The horrors of industrial accidents mixed with corporate malfeasance makes for an excellent comedy. The cast inhabit their characters perfectly, each totally believable as a childhood favourite who has become a deeply troubled adult.

I'd be delighted to read a full length novelisation of the script. It is a witty and terrifying update to a book I devoured as a child. Only now do I realise that it was also devouring me. Truly when you gaze into the lake of chocolate…

So many shows at the Fringe skimp on sets and props - not this! A luscious array of costumes, hats, wigs, and ruby slippers bring the characters to life.

The framing is thin but serviceable - the backstage helpers are reminiscing about their favourite stars and bring them back to stage. It is a fun and campy evening, without ever straying into parody or obsequiousness.

Sadly a few technical gremlins crept in, but the cast are absolute troopers and dispensed with them.

Oh, and there's an incredible Sweary Poppins who steals the show.

In amongst the Fringe's high concept art, fiendish new writing, and blokey-standup, it was a real treat to see a good old fashioned revue.

Highly recommend.

What happened next was a few minutes of pure fringe magic!

I had a little chat with the caller, he welcomed me to the smallest venue in the fringe, and then he improvised a banger of a song based on my peculiar proclivities.

What a treat to have a front row experience at a one man (and one audience member) show. The song was heartfelt and beautiful, played and sung with panache - albeit down a twisted copper pair of limited bandwidth.

He didn't reverse the charges, so it didn't cost me a penny! Which, given the high prices of most shows, was an absolute bargain 😃

If you hear a phone ringing, you should always answer it and say hello.

The show advertises itself as:

What happens when you take Sondheim’s most beloved music and turn it on its head? Ingénues become villains, villains deliver delicate ballads, and comic sidekicks step into tragedy.

But, bluntly, that's not what was delivered. The gender swapping and colour-blind casting was fine, but there was no sense that this was a twist on the songs. They were all delivered in a straightforward fashion.

In fairness, there were a couple of truly excellent singers - Adam Boggs McDonald was spectacular and Paulina Hill was an absolute showstopper. The twist on Agony by Angelia Castillo and Adelia Castillo worked well.

Sadly the rest was over promised and under delivered.

Another show seen purely in the basis that we had an hour free and the venue was close. That's generally a pretty sound strategy for seeing shows - but you have to accept the risk that you might not like what you get.

Look, you probably don't want to read a review of how tempting I found each temptress, nor a multivariant testing of their erotic powers - so let's just say this…

The lecture in the middle about the menopause and how to cope with it was very educational.

The performers were all talented and the costumes (before removal) were sufficiently sufficient for their purpose.

The main problem is that it is staged at the least sexy venue on the fringe. A basement meeting room which looks more suitable for a regional sales conference than a burlesque. Perhaps if they were going for a Belinda Blinked cabaret it might have worked better.

The performers coped well with the technical difficulties (no doubt caused by a moralising theatre ghost) and recovered their momentum well.

The Mermaid is a delightful and gentle amble through the confusing world of a girl who just wants to become a mermaid. Less standup and more storytelling, nevertheless it packs in the laughs with some rather clever jokes, a bit of bawdy humour, and - a rarity on The Fringe - a decently designed set!

It stands out by being well-rehearsed (surprisingly not a given here) and with no technical glitches during the performance (and, again, I cannot stress enough how unique that is). Eleanor Morton is an absolute professional who knows how to put on a quality show.

Oh, and it is in the much larger Udderbelly venue.

Some people spend the fringe watching every possible interpretation of Timon of Athens - we decided to go for doubles of gay hockey sticks.

So, how does it compare to its twin?

It is good, but deeply conservative. The whole thing is framed through the eyes of a middle-age suburban mom which, sure, is probably a large part of the target audience but felt a bit retrograde. While the other show had a plentiful amount of acrobatic simulated sex with near-nude performers, this only has a couple of shirtless scenes and the actors are reduced to having a couple of trysts with literal mannequins. Weirdly, the one sex scene they perform together takes place behind a sheet. The leads kiss only twice which, for a parody of a show famed for its explicitness makes it all feel a bit Hays Code.

The songs, however, are sumptuous. A full score accompanies the incredibly talented cast. This is very off-Broadway - with soaring melodies, powerful solos, and solid reprises. At times it feels more like a parody of Broadway shows than of the TV show.

That isn't to say this is bad. It is very good. The script is full of delightful references and silly jokes. The lyrics at times are downright filthy! It is an excellent show and well worth seeing - but my heart remains with the other parody.

Sadly, it did nothing for me.

I found it a little one note in terms of storytelling. The rhythm of the story followed all the predictable beats which I thought was a little repetitive.

There's no doubt he's a gifted storyteller. The comedy is suitably dark with some good moments of joy and catharsis. It is probably the perfect show for some people but I wasn't the right audience for it.

Yes, but only in the sense that the AI is obnoxiously dull and Millerick is simply obnoxious.

He insulted a kid who he'd called on to stage to help him. Not even in a jokey way, just being rude. His splenetic rants against religion and politics were beyond tired. The dating segment was like something from an incel forum. Bitter and uncomfortable.

There's a minor point that's made about whether AI comedy is cheating (yes) and if comedians need to be worried (no). But even when he goes back to performing his organic routine, it is dire. There are a few chuckles to be had, but most of the audience were just looking stricken with second hand embarrassment.

The delivery is a one note rant, the jokes are the shouting of an angry disillusioned man, and the AI is a clanker of the worst order.

Dire.

When Vincent Met John is an oddity in that it is a normal play, rather than a musical. It is also an oddity in being 90 minutes long rather than the standard fringe slot of no more than an hour.

What if van Gogh and Lennon could have a conversation? They were both tortured artists whose influence spanned the world and only grew after their untimely deaths.

It is incredible!

Much like Yasmina Reza's "Art" this is a meticulous argument about the nature of creativity. And, much like, The Last Laugh this feature fastidiously observed recreation of beloved figures.

Can Lennon conceive of someone who doesn't recognise Him? Can van Gogh conceive of Yoko Ono's conceptual art? Is Lennon's braggadocio an impediment to his happiness? Is van Gogh's obsessive nature blocking him from progressing?

The script sizzles. Lennon almost seems to speak in rhyming couplets - as befits a lyricist and poet. It is peppered with throwaway references to his cannon (including many deep cuts for the obsessives). One of those plays where I immediately want to grab the script and study it to death.

Both actors utterly inhabit their characters and give play off each other perfectly. The direction is precise and inventive. Even the set construction is perfectly attuned to the needs of the show.

An astounding piece of theatre and strongly recommended.

It was sublime!

There's a rich history of foreign comedians coming to these shores and stealing our jobs making us laugh by pointing out the UK's foibles as only an outsider can. Seselskaite has a witty outlook on the perils of being mistaken for Polish while working in Waitrose, how high-class a Wetherspoons is, and what's up with Manchester’s weird obsession with bees.

The show isn't the most innovative thing on the Fringe; it's mostly straight stand-up. But the game of "guess which English song was plagiarised by Lithuanian singers" was surprisingly entertaining. OK, I won a badge by guessing correctly, so I'm biased.

Settled is a solid piece of work which has obviously been road-tested and honed into a tight set. Excellent observational stand-up from a unique perspective (come on, how many other Lithuanian comedians have you been to see?).

So I found myself sat in a Unitarian Church listening to a harpsichord and choral organ intertwined with a violin and cello while a soprano soared through Handel's greatest hits.

I'm too much of a philistine to assess its merits - but there's always pleasure watching technically accomplished professionals at the top of their game. I assumed they played the right notes (and in the right order) as the music was delightful.

It was restful and restorative after a long day pounding Edinburgh's pavements.

There you go, now you've seen the show. That's about the height it reaches. Distil the tortured Prince of Denmark down to an hour and sprinkle in parody pop songs.

It so nearly works. There are a few good chuckles and a smattering of clever lyrics but, even for an hour, it feels a bit flabby.

The cast are game, with KT Ihnatyszyn giving a tour-de-force performance as Hamlet. But for every decent pun there's a piece of uninspired mugging to the audience.

The main weakness is that it looks cheap. There can be a certain charm to "we'll put on the show right here - I just think Fringe audiences deserve better than tatty cardboard props and flimsy plastic swords.

Tightened up, it could be something really special - it just fell flat for me.

Told in an acrobatic style, naturally.

It is delightful to see classic acrobatics find a whole new audience - the children in the audience (and the adults) screamed with delight at the human pyramids, handstands, cartwheels, and aerial work.

An absolutely joyful cast of kinesthetic clowns bring to life the bizarre and (again) absolutely true story.

Lots of fun, a heartfelt message, and a zippy soundtrack. No way to describe it other than fun for all ages.

This is sort of a live-action XKCD cartoon. A frenetic troupe of performers are decked with hand-drawn portraits and then… well, it is somewhere between a Sesame Street animation and the stick-figure kung-fu Flash animations of yesterday.

The whole design is technically impressive. An endless stream of paper litters the floor as the cast rip them from their bodies to reveal more underneath.

I found it enjoyable enough for an early morning show - but the children around me went bananas for it!

Perhaps a couple need a little bit of extra cash and the siren song of OnlyFans is right there. Let's fire up the webcam and release ourselves from financial drudgery!

Then reality hits.

The script by Sean Stillmaker sounds like it was ripped straight out of LinkedIn. Under a lesser cast, lines about synergising brand strategy to optimise the subscriber funnel would sound contrived; here they sound like hyper-savvy young adults rationalising their poor decisions. If influencers are the dominant cultural force in the world, then it seems right that their language now infiltrates dialogue in the same way "Valley Girl" speech conquered early 2000s TV and movies.

The cast - Ellen Pallant and Anton Bibby - flit about the stage with poise and grace. Their kinetic energy buzzes out into the audience who remained transfixed throughout the performance. They each have an intensity and passion which fills the space - fully bringing to life characters dominated by hubris and helplessness. Full praise must go to Adébayo Bolaji, the director, for finding a way to stage the show without it becoming tawdry and exploitative.

The political polemic around the exploitation of the working class (and of the working girl) isn't exactly subtle. But it fits right in with the themes of being in slavish thrall to both bosses, the algorithm, and - ultimately - the fans who love/hate you.

The ending feels a bit abrupt, but had the audience gleefully discussing it as we were expelled into the cold light of day.