August 18, 2026 at Monkey Barrel at The Tron
Many shows at the Edinburgh Fringe claim to be ‘anarchic’, but I’m pretty sure only this one will cause a reviewer (me) to take the following note: “crowd cheer Eton mess cream explosion – the lobster did it!”
Tonight is only David Correos’ second night at the Fringe, and his is a hot ticket. So much so, I fail to get one of said tickets and instead arrive early for Monkey Barrel’s (fabulous, revolutionary) Pay What You Want Queue. The only person in front of me in the line is David Correos himself, dressed like Wally/Waldo from Where’s Wally/Waldo, and carrying a big pile of props.
This isn’t the rave show that we might have been expecting, he tells me, but don’t worry – he’s taken all the best stuff from that and added it to this one. It’ll be a good show! David Correos is a physically formidable, very, very likeable Kiwi who drops C Bombs like a Scottish grandmother (quite a lot, but in an undeniably endearing way) – and he does not lie. It is a good show! Even if the notes I took made it seem like I was hallucinating throughout.
Correos starts by hosting a short rave, playing a rollercoaster video (and I’ve never seen an audience so eager to play along with a silly conceit – his madcap energy is just so infectious!) before explaining that he’s now a man of God, and making us all join in a semi-religious call and response.
Everything he does is unexpected. When he claps along to some of the YouTube Premium music he’s brought to the show, it is almost never on the beat. He’ll eat a hotdog, but only while dressed as a lobster, with calipers for hands.
He yells into his phone the full name of each musical cue, prompting woofs of laughter every time, and doesn’t have a microphone for the first ten minutes of the gig. Is that part of the show? Probably. But only a fool would say for sure.
He makes us play pass the parcel with subversive snacks before introducing us to the terrifying Spider-Man of our dimension and performing the sacrament of communion by hurling Pringle eucharists at the audience. And if you think I’ve only touched on about 10% of what he did while on stage, you’d be approximately correct.
He ends with another bout of what he calls ‘lobster restaurant’ and then a singalong, before anointing us all with the command to ‘Leave the world sillier than you found it.’ A mantra to live by, if ever I’ve heard one.
Sarah Stringer