What makes a fringe show work? Five lessons from Edinburgh Fringe 2026

This year, I spent five weeks at Edinburgh Fringe working across four shows.

I wrote, directed and produced both of magician Chris Cook’s show this year: Fake at Gilded Balloon and Heist: How to Steal a Masterpiece at the Voodoo Rooms. I also produced Alastair Clark's On The Record at Slow Progress Records & Coffee, and teched Michael McPheat Is Brutal.

It was a successful month. The shows found audiences, picked up awards and reviews, and I saw 63 shows along the way.

But after a month of making, producing and watching theatre, what did I actually learn?

1. You need to arrive at the Fringe with momentum

A Fringe run doesn't start when you arrive in Edinburgh.

The preparation you do beforehand matters, but so does what happens in those first few days. You need to give people a reason to come, then give them a reason to tell other people about the show.

This year, that meant a combination of marketing, press, preview coverage and a clear idea of what each show was offering. We secured two preview features and “Must See” listings, two preview interviews, 25 reviews and three podcast features. Fake and Heist: How to Steal a Masterpiece both won Gold Edinburgh Festival Fringe Theatre Awards.

That early buzz mattered.

The final week of the Fringe was tough for a lot of shows. Footfall dropped, audiences became harder to reach and there were fewer people simply wandering around Edinburgh looking for something to see. The shows I was working on were able to weather that drop-off because we had already built an audience and had things happening around the shows that kept them visible.

Fake ultimately sold 83.78% of its capacity across the whole run, including 15 sold-out performances, while the shows I worked on at PBH Free Fringe achieved record audience numbers across the month.

For me, the lesson is that Fringe marketing isn't just about selling tickets before you arrive. It's about creating momentum that can carry you through the month.

You need to think about the show's hook, its audience, its visual identity and its press story before Edinburgh. Then, once you're there, you need to keep giving people reasons to pay attention.

A good review on day three can sell a ticket on day ten. A recommendation from someone who has just seen the show can put another person in the room. A strong photograph or poster can make someone stop rather than walk past.

You can't control how many people are on the Royal Mile in the last week of the Fringe. You can control how much momentum you've built before they get there.

2. There may be more potential in connecting paid and free shows

Before the Fringe, I had a theory.

There is a cohort of Fringe audiences who only see paid shows. If you have a paid show and a free show running at the same festival, could the paid show introduce the free show to an audience who might not otherwise have found it?

This year gave me the chance to test that theory with Fake and Heist: How to Steal a Masterpiece.

It worked.

Obviously, a paid show still has to be good, and a free show needs to give people a reason to see it. But there was enough evidence this year to convince me that there is something worth exploring here.

It also made me think more broadly about how artists can build connections between different projects, audiences and formats rather than treating every show as an entirely separate thing.

I don't think there is a single formula for this. But I do think there are opportunities at Edinburgh that artists sometimes overlook because they are thinking about each show in isolation.

3. Outdoor advertising is about impact, not quantity

One thing I would change next year is how I approach outdoor advertising.

On The Record had a large, high-impact poster in a high-footfall location. When positive reviews started coming in, they could be added to something people were already looking at. I think that contributed hugely to the show's visibility.

Some of our railing boards, on the other hand, ended up in much less useful locations. That isn't always something you can control. You don't necessarily get to choose exactly where your advertising ends up, and suppliers and available locations change.

But it has changed how I think about the budget.

Next year, I would rather spend the same amount of money on fewer high-impact placements than spread it across as many locations as possible.

They say it's about location, location, location. At the Fringe, I'm increasingly convinced they mean it.

4. Seeing 63 shows changed the kind of work I want to make

One of the best things about spending five weeks at the Fringe was having the opportunity to see so much work.

I went into shows I knew I would love and came out cold. I went into others knowing very little and found myself completely captivated.

It made me think about what I actually want to watch.

A stand-up with a microphone isn't necessarily enough for me. I like artists who add something to the performance: lights, sound, music, production design, movement, puppetry, magic or another discipline.

But ultimately, it's not about spectacle for the sake of it.

I want to see a show. Something with a clear idea, structure and intention that holds me for an hour.

I also became much more conscious of the role of the venue. A brilliant performance can be affected by a room that is too hot, too cold, uncomfortable or simply doesn't suit the work.

All of that has made me clearer about the artists I want to work with. I'm interested in multidisciplinary performers who have something they want to say and are interested in finding the most theatrical way of saying it.

5. A producer should give an artist more than an extra pair of hands

You can absolutely produce your own show.

Artists can do the spreadsheets, send the emails, organise the marketing, contact venues and write the press release themselves.

The question is what else they could be doing with that time.

For me, the value of a producer isn't simply taking jobs off an artist's to-do list. It's bringing experience, perspective and another person into the process who isn't quite as close to the work.

When you've spent months making a show, it can be difficult to see it from the outside. You know exactly what it is. You know what you want it to be. You may have a very clear idea of where it should be.

A producer can ask different questions.

Who is this actually for? Where does it belong? What's the clearest way to describe it? What's the press story? What's the marketing hook? What needs to happen before Edinburgh? And, perhaps most importantly, what are we actually trying to achieve by being there?

That last question matters.

There is a huge amount to gain from Edinburgh, but if you don't have one or two clear things you want to achieve, you can work incredibly hard and still come away feeling like you haven't got what you came for.

A producer can help set those goals, keep them in sight and hold you to them.

They can also be the person who is still there when things don't go to plan.

Making a solo show can be lonely. Edinburgh can be exhilarating, but it can also be relentless. Having someone who understands the project, can help you make decisions and can weather the difficult bits with you is valuable.

That's the kind of producer I want to be.

Looking towards 2027

This year has made me want to do more of this.

I'm now looking to build a small roster of shows for Edinburgh Fringe 2027, alongside developing my own new show, “2nd”.

Wicked Pig Productions works year-round, not just at the Fringe. I work with artists on producing, creative development, marketing, press and positioning, whether they're preparing for Edinburgh or developing work beyond the festival.

If you're thinking about Edinburgh 2027 and want to talk through what you're making, what you want from the festival and whether I could help, get in touch.

After five weeks in Edinburgh, I've come home with a much clearer idea of what I want to do next.

I'm looking forward to it.