By Grace Hatchell peering into the stage door with binoculars, with flask of tea.
Soho Theatre has unveiled its Edinburgh Fringe 2026 programme, bringing 18 shows across theatre, comedy and everything in between to venues across the city – including Pleasance, Gilded Balloon, Assembly, Summerhall, ZOO and Underbelly. And somehow… one of those shows involves a vegan Hamlet.
, Now I’ll be honest with you — when I first heard that, I had to stop what I was doing entirely, one hand on my satchel, wondering whether Shakespeare had finally lost custody of his own play.
A vegan… Hamlet?
I mean, I’ve seen a lot of things come through this satchel, but that one nearly made me drop the whole bag.
The show is called ham, and it’s exactly as chaotic as it sounds. A grief-stricken vegan, a pig, revenge, and a full Shakespearean spiral that’s been twisted into something a little bit naughty and a lot less traditional. There’s talk of meat, madness and moral battles, and I suspect by the end of it we’ll all be sat there wondering whether we’ve just watched theatre or been gently (or not so gently) told off.
And the thing is… that’s just the starting point.
Because once I’d recovered from the idea of Hamlet with a side of tofu, I started properly looking through Soho Theatre’s programme, and it turns out this isn’t one oddball show tucked away quietly in a corner.
It’s a whole line-up that seems to have collectively decided to lean into the Fringe’s slightly unhinged side and just… go with it.
Take Xhloe & Natasha, for example. They’re back with a show involving Bigfoot sightings, teenage mischief, and a dog that turns up in a state that sets everything off. It’s got that eerie “did we imagine it or is it real?” energy, mixed with conspiracy and panic, and if their previous work is anything to go by, it’ll be clever, strange and just unsettling enough to stay with you.
Then there’s Underground Monk Show, which I’m still trying to process. Monks discover magic water. The magic water grants dreams. The monks promptly lose all sense of control. I mean… fair enough, really. Give anyone magic water and see how long they behave.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, you’ve got Max Olesker telling a very human story about love and identity, trying to navigate faith, relationships and the slightly complicated business of belonging. It’s one of those pieces that sounds like it’ll sneak up on you — start off light, then suddenly hit you with something real when you’re not expecting it.
And then, just as you’re settling into that, you’re whisked off again into something completely different.
There’s Salty Brine blending music, memory and first love in a way that sounds like it might leave a few people quietly staring at the floor on the way out. There’s Jack Rooke revisiting good grief ten years on, which feels like a full-circle moment — not just for him, but for anyone who’s followed that journey.
And in between all of that, there’s comedy. Lots of it.
Demi Adejuyigbe is back with songs and a show about selling out, which already sounds like it’s going to be knowingly chaotic in the best possible way. Spencer Jones is asking the important question — are dogs better than humans — and I suspect we all know where that’s going, but I’ll happily sit through an hour of proof.
Frankie Thompson is collecting “horrible things,” which feels like something we should all probably avoid… and yet I know full well people will be queuing up to see exactly what she’s found. Frankie McNair is bringing a show about confidence, resilience and not making yourself small anymore, which feels like it might hit a little deeper than you expect once the laughter settles.
And then there are the newcomers — the ones stepping into Edinburgh for the first time, bringing their stories, their questions, their slightly chaotic observations about the world.
Tarang Hardikar, for example, is asking questions that feel both completely random and oddly relatable. Why is the biggest prize in sport a cup? Why has no one seen a growing coconut tree? It’s that kind of thinking that starts as a joke and then somehow sticks with you longer than it should.
Temi Wilkey is back with lover girl, continuing her exploration of identity, love and self-image, and if her previous work is anything to go by, it’ll be bold, honest and just a little bit surreal in all the right ways.
And then, just when you think you’ve got a handle on the programme, along comes something like Evita Too.
Now, I don’t even know where to start with that one. It’s described as the greatest story never told about Argentina’s first female president… with songs, chaos and, apparently, the possibility of naked roller-skating. Which, I suppose, is one way to get people talking.
There’s also Patti Harrison popping up for a short run, bringing a show that sounds like it could go absolutely anywhere, and Catherine Bohart working through new material ahead of a wider tour, which always feels like a bit of a treat — catching something while it’s still being shaped.
And tucked in there, almost quietly, is a children’s show from Spencer Jones that promises complete nonsense, puppets and unpredictable chaos. The kind of thing that children will love and adults will pretend they’re only there for because they brought someone younger along.
It’s a lot to take in.
But that’s the thing about Soho Theatre’s programme this year.
It doesn’t feel like it’s trying to simplify itself.
It feels like it’s embracing everything the Fringe can be — the strange, the funny, the heartfelt, the slightly confusing, the moments that make you laugh, and the ones that make you stop and think, “hang on… that actually meant something.”
And running through all of it is that sense of discovery.
Because for every name you recognise, there’s someone new. For every idea that feels familiar, there’s something that makes you tilt your head slightly and go, “really?”
Which, if you ask me, is exactly how it should be.
The Fringe isn’t about playing it safe. It’s about taking a chance, following your curiosity, and occasionally ending up in a room watching something you never would have picked… and being very glad you did.
So yes, I’ll be keeping an eye on ham.
Partly because I need to see it with my own eyes to fully believe it exists, and partly because I have a feeling it might end up being one of those shows people talk about long after they’ve left Edinburgh.
But I’ll also be dipping into everything else Soho Theatre have brought with them.
The Bigfoot, the monks, the love stories, the chaos, the questions.
Because if this programme is anything to go by, Edinburgh Fringe 2026 is going to be one of those years where you don’t just watch theatre.
You experience it.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, I’ll be there — satchel over my shoulder, trying to make sense of what I’ve just seen, and quietly wondering who, exactly, first looked at Hamlet and thought…
“you know what this needs…”
…and didn’t stop themselves.
About the Author
