By the one, the only Grace Hatchell
There are moments during Edinburgh Fringe season where my inbox stops feeling like an inbox and starts feeling like somebody’s launched a theatre cannon directly at my face.
This week’s culprit? Pleasance.
The venue has just announced a further 95 shows for Edinburgh Fringe 2026, adding even more comedy, theatre, family work and absolute chaos to an already gigantic programme.
Now, most sensible theatre outlets will probably tell you about the returning stars, the award winners, the new writing, the famous comedians and the scale of it all.
But halfway through the press release, while I was sat eating a slightly stale caramel wafer and trying to regain consciousness, one sentence completely took me out.
“All while Courtney Büchner becomes your next best friend, and ultimately Instagram follower, in One of the Girls.”
Reader, I stopped.
Not because I didn’t understand it.
Because I understood it immediately.
That one sentence somehow captures modern Fringe culture perfectly. The idea that somewhere in Edinburgh this summer, there will be a show where somebody might emotionally adopt you, overshare with you, emotionally spiral with you, and then potentially follow your holiday photos afterwards.
Honestly? Terrifying. Intriguing. Probably brilliant.
“I don’t even have Instagram,” I muttered into my tea.
And yet somehow I already feel like Courtney Büchner knows my star sign, my emotional weaknesses, and whether I reply “hehe” or “haha” in messages.
That’s the clever thing about Fringe descriptions now. They are no longer just about plots. They’re about vibes. Identity. Online culture. Parasocial friendships. The strange modern feeling of becoming emotionally attached to somebody you met forty minutes ago in a basement venue above a pub.
And buried amongst Pleasance’s enormous announcement are loads of shows that feel like they understand exactly where audiences are emotionally right now.
There are giant names returning, including Tim Vine with Sillypun Valley, Alex Edelman with What Are You Going to Do, Patti Harrison with Just Ironing Some Things Out!, and Lucy Porter unveiling The Name of the Games (WIP).
But what Pleasance really seems to be selling this year is discovery.
The feeling that somewhere hidden between the big hitters and established names is a performer you’ll spend the rest of August telling people you “saw before they got massive.”
You can feel it throughout the programme. Viral comedians. Fringe debuts. Drag musicals. Clowning shows. Interactive chaos. Political comedy. Camp retellings of the Gunpowder Plot. A show called The Unlikeable Worms. Another called Mother Succubus. One involving tongue twisters in multiple languages while dancing.
At this point, Pleasance isn’t programming a venue. It’s programming an entire Fringe survival experience
And somehow that’s the joy of the Fringe.
You arrive with a carefully colour-coded spreadsheet and leave three days later emotionally attached to a comedian dressed as a Victorian moth who performed to seventeen people and a confused golden retriever.
That’s why that Courtney Büchner line works so well.
Because whether intentionally or not, it accidentally sums up what the Edinburgh Fringe has become in 2026. Not just a place to watch shows, but a place to briefly enter strange little social universes with total strangers.
Some become your favourite performers.
Some become your personality for a week.
And apparently some become your Instagram followers.
Meanwhile, I’ll be in Edinburgh in the future trying to explain to performers that Theatre Village is run by a fictional postal worker whilst pretending this is all completely normal behaviour.
Tickets for all shows are available at www.pleasance.co.uk and
020 7609 1800.
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