hame. teeth. CLUB. - Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2026

Every weekend has been the same for the past six months, and Morgan Shields wouldn't change it for a thing. Currently thrilled to be at a loss for direction and lacking in motivation, Morgan finds herself every weekend at Dalkeith Miners Club without fail. It's the place to be. Every Saturday night.

Written by Kari Hall and performed by Rhiannon Lucy Bird, hame. teeth. CLUB. initially feels like a  recognisable portrait of Scottish nightlife. Morgan works a dead-end job in TK Maxx, with her minimum wage disappearing into zombie cocktails and another Saturday night on the dancefloor. Hall gives us a character who feels immediately relatable before taking that familiar world somewhere much darker.

After months of nights out ending in much the same way, Morgan accepts a lift home from Gaz, a friend who is sober while she can barely stand. After a pressured kiss, she hopes that will be the end of it, only to find her passenger seat reclined and herself raped.

There have been numerous plays at this year's Fringe exploring sexual assault, each bringing its own perspective. Hall's approach is fascinating because the play is interested in what happens afterwards, particularly when the women Morgan expects to support her instead become part of the machinery of blame.

Morgan's best friend listens but cannot fully acknowledge what has happened, fearful of upsetting her boyfriend and destabilising their largely male friendship group. Gaz's mother launches a Facebook campaign designed to discredit Morgan and defend her son. Hall examines internalised sexism, loyalty and fear, showing how women can become complicit in protecting the structures that ultimately harm other women. Bird is excellent at showing the impact this has on Morgan. Her performance allows Morgan to remain funny, frustrated and vulnerable rather than becoming simply a symbol of sexual assault. As the people around her begin questioning what happened, we watch her start questioning herself.

She feels that she has "fucked up her work, life, friendships", and Hall captures how victim-blaming can become internalised. Morgan's attempts to appease Gaz are particularly effective. Her behaviour and response reflects an attempt to keep herself safe in a frightening situation. Yet those same actions can later be weaponised against her as evidence that she consented. She is caught in the impossible expectations of the "perfect victim", where even the things she does to protect herself can be used to undermine her.

The legal element is brilliantly theatrical. Instead of presenting Morgan's cross-examination as a predictable courtroom scene, it is performed through interpretive dance across the stage and into the audience, while Morgan's own words are played over the speakers. Her testimony is transformed into something that can be used against her, physically demonstrating how the legal process can turn a survivor's own choices into evidence against them.

Lee Hutchison

​4/5

Runs until August 30th at Cowgate Underbelly