Last week was the start of the Minnesota Fringe Festival, an annual mega-buffet of 100(ish) one-hour theater productions presented by around 100(ish) different theater groups. I hate the phrase “there’s a little bit of everything here,” but that’s no lie in this case. There are tense dramas, one-woman monologues, high-concept comedies, improv shows, political satires, kiddo fare, parodies—hell, there’s even a trapeze and tap dance show.
You literally cannot see everything here, and that’s intentional. So while I am somewhat of a completionist, last week I really only ran a 5K in the Fringe marathon. But hey, that’s about 18 hours of running!
The following is three days of notes, quotes, and even a little gossip as I made my way through three days of local theater. To consume as much as possible, I chose one venue a day. The box office for the next show typically opens about 10 minutes after the last show is over, so to get more bang for my buck (the buck being my job), I decided to nix any dreams of sprinting between venues.
You get the idea, and now you know the methods to my madness. On to the THE-A-TER!
THURSDAY: Day 1 at Theatre in the Round
I’m starting my journey at the Cadillac of theater venues, Theatre in the Round. Not only does this place have plentiful A/C (seriously, bring a sweater or coat if you’re prone to chills), it also has tons of places to sit and hang while you wait to enter the theater—a rarity in Fringe world. More amenities: There’s a free filtered water machine to keep you hydrated between sets (bring a water bottle!), and, at least on Thursday night, the concession stand was open with a friendly volunteer selling snacks, beer, and wine.
By: The Bearded Company
Elevator Pitch: Imagine a Mad Lib titled “1980s action flick.”
Everyone in the crowd at Dice of Destiny seemed to know each other which, in a Fringe situation, could be a good or bad thing. Good in that the audience energy was guaranteed to be up, bad in that it could make people overly generous in their applause. Turns out I had nothing to worry about; the biggest “woot” from the crowd was for Rep. Ilhan Omar, whose pre-recorded reminder to turn off our phones starts every Fringe show.
But that’s not to say Dice of Destiny is bad. In fact, it’s really pretty dang entertaining. This is a hard show to review, as each performance is an episode in a larger series that progresses throughout the festival. But the general plot is a professional spy masquerades as an aerobics instructor in hopes of taking down an evil corporation. Meanwhile, a mulleted biker dude who loves women—his grandma, his wheels, his ex—is haunted by the ghosts of his past… who are also literal goo monsters. Will aerobics lady and mullet man team up? (I suspect that question has been answered since Thursday.)
Dice is part Mad Libs, part dystopian Miami Vice, part gaming session. When action scenes break out, their success rate is determined by a narrator who rolls a 12-sided die, gaming-style. It’s a fast-paced show that’s light on deeper meaning, but easy to get into.
Verdict: I enjoyed it, though some folks I stood in line with the next day said they thought it was a big ol’ dud. But if this sounds like your thing, see it.
By: Kalal Productions
Elevator pitch: Aren’t gun nuts wacky?
A woman left halfway through this show; I later learned she thought she was at Romeo & Juliet. GUNS! is not Shakespeare—it’s more of a cross between the broad humor of The Naked Gun and Dr. Seuss’s The Sneetches. The plot follows a pro-gun family that seeks to ban joints (meaning kneecaps, elbows, etc.) after their son shoots his knee with a gun. There are musical numbers (complete with a live band onstage), gun-themed vignettes, and plenty of goofs in this thing.
I don’t think it works. In another era, a play satirizing the ridiculous leaps of logic gun nuts go to defend the Second Amendment might come off as cutting. In 2025, it’s hard to laugh about accidental Nazi salutes, gun hoarding, and corrupt politicians (even if they are played by puppets). The audience sighed, not chuckled, when one character wondered aloud if they would be rounded up by the government and forced to watch live-action Disney movies.
Verdict: Skip
Romeo and Juliet: Lottery Style
By: Katherine Warmka
Elevator Pitch: ...it's Romeo and Juliet.
Romeo and Juliet is one of the most familiar works of all time, so watching this bare-bones take on a classic felt like a cozy catchup with a longtime friend. Well, as cozy as a play about gang violence and suicide can be (spoiler alert!).
For each performance, four of the five actors don’t know what part they are playing until they take the stage (the fifth serves as narrator). That’s about as far as the surprises go with this production—unless you get invited to dance onstage during the Capulet party scene like I did—and there’s nothing wrong with that. This is a kinder, gentler take on Romeo and Juliet.
On my night, Juliet was played with a sweet, teenage hopefulness, Mercutio with the bravado of a young dude who feels invincible, and Romeo was both cocky and unsure as things unravel quickly.
Verdict: You probably already know whether or not you want to see this. If you’re a Shakespeare-head or a complete newbie, this is a memorable effort that’s easy to enjoy.
The Gentlemen’s Pratfall Club
By: Comedy Suitcase
Elevator pitch: “Imagine Caligula in the body of Stan Laurel”—what happens if Mr. Pratt takes too many pain pills.
Joshua English Scrimshaw and Levi Weinhagen are local theater bigshots who know how to crank a Fringe show up to 11—of course you should go. The Gentlemen’s Pratfall Club is hilarious. The premise is simple: A struggling actor (Weinhagen) goes up against a French clown (Scrimshaw) named Guy (it’s pronounced Geeeeee) for a role as Clumsy the Clown, a beloved children’s TV character. Unable to do a convincing fall, the actor signs up for training from Mr. Pratt, an old, feisty pratfall expert who looks a bit like Hunter S. Thompson and proclaims himself to be like “Wile E. Coyote in hospice.” Hilarity, of course, ensues, ending in a classic silent comedy bit.
Scrimshaw is simply wonderful here, pulling accents out of a hat and playing a variety of characters, many of whom excel at flying over theater seats, falling down stairs, and face planting. Weinhagen also nails his part as straight man (even if he couldn’t always keep a straight face during opening night).
Verdict: See! See! See!
FRIDAY: Day 2 at Mixed Blood Theatre
For my second day I moved down the street to Mixed Blood, which had no A/C, no snacks, and no seating in the lobby. But the box office was friendly and folks were amicable and chatty while waiting in line. One nice couple recommended I see Songs without Words and boy, am I glad I took their advice (more on that later).
Academonic
By: Madlads Productions
Elevator pitch: Dark academia, but make it furniture.
Professor Ellen Karass is going through some stuff. Her partner stole her book idea, and she’s still reeling from the betrayal. So when she takes a new job at a poorly staffed college, she is especially bummed to find that a tapestry in her office is possessed by a demon hungry for blood, souls, and Bogart's Doughnut Co. Fortunately, one of her colleagues specializes in exorcisms.
The evil tapestry, played by a guy with a blanket draped over him, really steals the show here. It’s a simple but effective trick that comes off both creepy and kinda hilarious.
Verdict: This is a solid effort with some good stuff here, but it’s not quite fleshed out enough to make it into my “must-see” tier.
INSOMNIA DOGS
By: Cora Casper
Elevator pitch: Is it college or is it a dream?
Can sleep deprivation bring about powerful creative inspiration? In INSOMNIA DOGS, five freshmen women believe they might write better if they sleep less (a rookie mistake!). But this play is less about story and more about vibe, with dreamy segments featuring shadow play, pinhole silent movies, and folkloric asides. It’s a sweet slice of life about friendship, and while the plot may be thin, each character feels fleshed out, and it’s joyful to watch them play off each other. Don’t expect answers (are there even questions?): You’re in dreamland.
Verdict: Enjoyable, but it’s a little too sleepy to merit a must-see ticket.
Your Hello To My Goodbye
By: Cornucopia Productions
Elevator pitch: Family drama, but make it mostly sweet.
It’s the night before Saxarla, a first-gen Somali American, moves out of her family home for a job in New York City. Her mother and siblings have feelings about this, of course, and Saxarla, the eldest sister, wonders if they will be able to manage without her watchful eye and mediation.
This is a show about family. Brothers fight; the eldest is focused on doing things right while the other, fresh out of high school, is a little more experimental (and queer-coded, though it’s never made explicit). Meanwhile, Saxarla’s younger sister feels insecure in the shadow of her “perfect” sibling. In the end, tensions break into tenderness, with gentle moments that let you know these kids are going to figure it all out and be OK.
Verdict: This feels like a weepy “goodbye” episode of an ’80s-style sitcom. There’s some laughs, but you may find yourself a little teary-eyed from all that family support.
Our Zombie Town
By: Pat O'Brien
Elevator pitch: Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, but zombies.
How do you put a fresh spin on classic work that has been done to death? If it’s the 2010s, you add zombies. And while Our Zombie Town has some solid laughs, the script and its premise can feel a little dated. Here zombies are a metaphor for things like the pandemic, capitalism, smartphone usage, and complacency—all things we’ve seen before. Still, there’s a little meat left on this bone. There are some genuine yuks to be had, like when the Stage Narrator works in a plea to review the show into the actual show. There’s also groans (not always for braaaains), as jokes directly referencing the Fringe or the actor’s awareness that they’re in a play can feel a little cheesy.
Verdict: Don’t shame the audience for reaching for our phones after the show, some of us have to call an Uber!
SATURDAY: Day 3 at the Rarig Center
For my final buffet day I decided to head to the Rarig Center, where I could bounce between the Nolte Xperimental and the Stoll Thrust theaters. There were big lines for each show, but volunteers always seemed to manage to get us all in.
Trust ̶E̶x̶e̶r̶c̶i̶s̶e̶s̶ Exorcises
By: Raffish Ripoff Productions
Elevator pitch: Let’s use a spinning wheel to process psychological abuse—for fun!
This is a one-man play about an abusive, bipolar, alcoholic, pedophile high school theater teacher. And yet, Trust ̶E̶x̶e̶r̶c̶i̶s̶e̶s̶ Exorcises isn’t overwhelming, heavy, or tragic. In fact, it’s pretty damn funny, insightful, and relatable. How is that possible? All the credit in the world goes to Phil Gonzales, who has obviously done a lot of work in therapy. Here he reflects on his high school years as a theater geek in a prestigious, award-winning program run by a horrible man, spinning something called the “Wonder Wheel of Wonder” to arrive at topics to expound on. (FYI Gonzales’s abuse was not sexual, and those kinds of details are kept blessedly sparse here.)
Along the way you’ll learn why Gonzales was so desperate to be accepted by a man who destroyed lives—no wait, really, this is a happy piece, I swear! It’s a story of resilience, of teenage normality marred by scandal, and how a formative toxic situation can bleed into how you deal with life as an adult.
Verdict: I swear, for the hundredth time, this is actually a fast-moving, insightful, joyful piece. I laughed, I related, I did not cry. Give it a chance. I left feeling energized and happy.
Hamluke
By: Nightfall Productions
Elevator pitch: What if Hamlet, but also Star Wars?
The line was long for this one, but it was worth the wait. Hamluke has a helluva lot of charm. We’ve got a trash bin R2-D2 sporting a ruff. Cute kids as Ewoks and Jawas. A Hans Solo that sounds so much like Harrison Ford he elicits laughs with his voice alone.
This is a show of punchlines, whether they’re quoting Hamlet or Star Wars, but what else could you possibly expect with a premise like this? A two-person band does an incredible job recreating John Williams’s soundtrack with an oboe, a cello, a harp, and a few other instruments I probably missed. The puppetry, which includes Yoda and a (not annoying) cameo from Jar Jar Binks, is really great, and the A+ costumes are both Elizabethan and from a land far, far away.
There’s nothing groundbreaking here, but it’s enjoyable. It’s not for everyone though; during my show a family of four in the front row slept through the entire thing, save for the dad who looked like he was having a great time.
Verdict: Bring the (nonsleepy) kids, this is very cute.
Songs Without Words (or, The Mendelssohn Play)
By: Jennifer Vosters
Elevator Pitch: An exploration of real-life musically gifted siblings Fanny and Felix Mendelssohn.
My notes after seeing this play: “I have no words.” No words, because this one-woman show is simply incredible. Jennifer Vosters plays siblings and soulmates Fanny and Felix Mendelssohn. Easily shifting in and out of both rolls with a gleeful bounce and a twitch of the baton.
While both siblings are musically gifted, it’s the 1800s, so Felix is allowed to explore his talents professionally while Fanny is encouraged by her father to focus on her family. But as her brother walks a path of traditional career successes Fanny, at the encouragement of her artist husband, eventually manages to make a splash, too.
This is a work of passion, about two siblings who share a passion for music, as well as Vosters’s passion for telling their story. She gives it her all, hits all the right notes, and had audience members wiping away tears before the lights went down and then up to reveal we were all giving her a standing ovation—something I have never seen at the Fringe.
Verdict: A 100% must-see.
Joan of Arc for Miss Teen Queen USA
By: Melancholics Anonymous
Elevator pitch: Drop Dead Gorgeous but with a time-traveling Joan of Arc.
A South Dakota beauty pageant gets off to a rocky start when Joan of Arc explodes onto the scene in full Crusades mode. But what follows is a question of faith, friendship, and feminism tied up neatly into a rhinestoned bow for you to unwrap. This is a comedy through and through. There are over-the-top songs (wow, this cast can hit high notes), teenage and adult bitchery, and a saint who wishes she was on the warpath instead of being coerced into looking “shiny.” Miss Teen Queen USA has a lot of energy, is tightly produced, and is a perfect friends’ night out if you’re looking for something silly and wholesome.
Verdict: Go with buds and feel good.
