 Almost Everything packs quite the punch in just one hour, delivering a rollercoaster of emotional drama that consistently subverts expectations. We meet Charlie (Ben McGuinness), a housebound architecture student still reeling from the recent death of his brother, now in search of a new flatmate. Enter Becca (Lauren Barrie), a petite, sunny blonde student, and within minutes it’s clear at least to us that Charlie is instantly smitten.
What follows in the first half is a series of sharply drawn vignettes capturing Charlie’s quiet yearning as he falls deeper for Becca. One wine-fuelled night leads to a single, impulsive sexual encounter. For Becca, it’s a one-off. For Charlie, it’s something more. A missed love confession is missed by Becca while wearing headphones to paint and then life in the flat resumes its unresolved rhythm. But the play and their relationship shifts dramatically with the arrival of Becca’s free-spirited, wanderlust-driven sister Emily (Imogen Eden-Brown), whose unexpected chemistry with Charlie turns the dynamic on its head. The play has drawn comparisons to Fleabag, One Day, and Normal People, and the first half certainly shares that textured, character-led intimacy. But Almost Everything carves out a more distinct and daring tone in its second act. With a runtime of just an hour, the pacing inevitably accelerates in the latter half, sometimes tipping into rushed territory. Plot developments lurch toward melodrama, with a few wild twists that elicited audible gasps from the audience. Yet, rather than derail the story, these turns are grounded by the ever-strengthening performances particularly from Lauren Barrie, who emerges as the emotional centre of the piece. A brief spoiler warning before we go further: in the second half, Charlie and Emily become engaged—suddenly and impulsively escalating the fraught triangle between Charlie, Emily, and Becca to breaking point. On paper, the melodrama threatens to spiral into chaos. But what keeps the play from tipping over is the foundation it’s carefully laid. These aren’t just characters acting out for shock value they’re people shaped by grief, abandonment, and deeply rooted emotional wounds and making decisions because of this. There was a trigger warning offered at the start that, while a welcome and responsible gesture, also signposted a significant event in the story. While its inclusion is understandable, it did reduce the emotional impact of the play’s climax for those already anticipating the twist. Charlie still lives in the shadow of his brother’s suicide. Becca, we learn, is driven to excessive drinking and stalled dreams by a childhood marked by her father’s absence and her mother’s alcoholism. These aren’t just love triangles they’re trauma bonds, formed through shared damage and silent understanding. The play deals in “big emotions,” yes, but it earns them. In doing so, Almost Everything fully embraces the messy, complicated corners of human relationships. It doesn’t flinch from awkwardness in fact, it leans into it. That’s part of the pleasure as an audience member: being pushed into uncomfortable spaces, watching people unravel in ways that are heightened, dramatic, and deeply human. It’s also a gift for these talented young actors, who rise to the challenge with rawness and energy. The play owns its melodrama and turns it into a strength. After all, messy people are far more interesting to watch than Normal People. Lee Hutchison 4/5 ALMOST EVERYTHING Venue: Alba Theatre at Braw Venues @ Hill Street Dates: August 5th to 24th Time: 1755 Tickets: Almost Everything | Edinburgh Festival Fringe |
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