The Medium Shapes the Message
In the last post, I discussed one way multimedia can be used effectively in solo performance. I want to revisit that topic now- this time through the lens of conventional vs. experimental usage.
The two solo shows reviewed below use multimedia successfully, but in very different ways.
Do You Accept These Charges? applies multimedia in a conventional, functional manner: projecting a handwritten letter onto a screen, or using video to show a prerecorded two-person scene. These are classic techniques, familiar additions that support the storytelling without drawing too much attention to themselves. Structurally, the show followed a formula that felt polished and safe.
Sorry: A Canadian’s Apology for America, by contrast, was far more experimental. It wove together mockumentary film, voiceover, lighting shifts, and unexpected tonal pivots. These elements didn’t just support the story- they shaped it. Instead of a clear narrative thread, the audience was given puzzle pieces that slowly formed a textured, original whole.
The result? The first show offered a rhythm that was comfortable and familiar. The second cracked the audience open more. Both approaches were appropriate for the material. Do You Accept These Charges? told the story of a young woman in a relationship with an incarcerated man- a premise that’s already emotionally dense. Using multimedia sparingly helped center the audience’s focus. Sorry: A Canadian’s Apology for America, on the other hand, tackled the chaotic absurdities of modern America. A mixed-media collage felt like the right mirror for the content.
Thanks for reading.
(Note: These reviews were originally published as part of my 2025 Edinburgh Fringe coverage for FringeReview. I’m archiving them here for readers who don’t follow that site.)
Do You Accept These Charges?
TL;DR
In this arresting examination of love and the systems that lock us up, writer/performer Laurie Magers finds herself in a relationship with an incarcerated man. This is the story of what happened, how she found herself there, and what she thinks of it now.
Review
Many women like a bad boy, and Los Angeles-based actor/comedian Laurie Magers owns it. She wears it. She opens her show waiting in line on Christmas Day to visit her boyfriend- in prison.
Who would do such a thing? A woman in love. So in love she’s a love addict. Magers walks us through how a relationship like this made sense to her at the time. She was twenty-four, swiping through a dating app, and a sexually free feminist. Being a chill girl, she didn’t flinch at his ankle bracelet- and for four seemingly sweet months everything was going great- until he got locked up again.
But him being behind bars didn’t put mud in her wheels- she, herself, was committed. She was even planning to marry him. But overtime, that distance did give her pause and time to reflect. That’s when the rose colored glasses begin to slowly come off and Magers starts to see she’s left with a raw deal- partly of her own making. And that’s where the real heart of this story resides.
This is a layered, nuanced story, with much variety. Magers deftly moves from heavy to light subject-wise, hot to cold in emotional intensity, intellectual to silly in character. The show is multi-dimensional because she and her experience are multi-dimensional. There are several props and simple costume changes, along with images projected on a screen behind her that effectively add to a sense of time and space without distraction (though, a version of this show could exist without them- that’s how strong the storytelling and performance are). All of the shapeshifting helps hold interest.
Magers gives us a brief overview of her training, and her background as an improviser really comes through. She moves through scenes with agility, responds to light audience interaction without missing a beat, and leans into the cringier moments with such ease and commitment that they become important and necessary highlights of the show.
Particularly compelling are moments when Magers steps out of the main narrative to give the audience helpful sociological and historical context. She does this to provide some understanding of the US prison system (important to international audiences, though arguably more important for Americans to know), and how her mother, a leftist activist who fled the Philippines for the United States, was an excellent provider but emotionally withholding. These bits of information were fascinating, and if the show continues on after the Fringe with longer run times, it could contain more of this.
I will not give away the ending in this review, but what I will say is: while on a personal note I am glad things worked out the way they did, from a storytelling perspective it’s conventional. For a piece that is so daring, shocking, and risktaking, the ending could use something to tickle the mind.
Do You Accept These Charges? is a prime candidate for post-show talkbacks in future iterations- with psychologists, prison-reform advocates, and other artists exploring intimacy and harm in relationships.
This show is Highly Recommended for its strong writing, performance, and for the important conversations it will generate around the topics it addresses.
Sorry: A Canadian’s Apology for America
TL;DR
In this comedic solo piece, Canadian Connor Malbeuf offers an apology to- and for- America. Mixing short film, political commentary, theatrical act-outs, and crowdwork, he delivers a multidimensional performance. He balances gravity and humor with a confident, deliberate pace, unafraid to linger in serious moments before landing perfectly timed laughs.
Review
Most shows at the Edinburgh Fringe are like sitting on a Bangkok street corner with a one-dollar plate of noodles: quick, haphazard, maybe run-inducing. Connor Malbeuf’s Sorry: A Canadian’s Apology for America feels more like stepping into a 7-course fine dining experience- polished, well-paced, and intentionally crafted. For Malbeuf, a Hollywood producer, that may just be another Wednesday.
Performed in the Drawing Room of the 18th century Georgian building Assembly Rooms, the show unfolds beneath a chandelier and gilded trim, an atmosphere so ornate it almost feels intentionally chosen to stage an Insurrection.
One might walk in with the impression that this will be an hour of standup, but the show delivers much more. It is a multimedia performance, including political commentary, voiceover recording, short film, theatrical act-outs, rehearsed standup, and improvisation. Malbeuf opens entering the dark space with a flashlight, then plays a prerecorded mockumentary short film that gently undercuts his own ego. He then returns to the stage to offer his audience a blend of wit and gravity. His material doesn’t aim for the constant laugh-laugh-laugh rhythm of standup; instead, he’s comfortable sitting in serious, even heavy, moments before bringing the mood back up with a well-placed joke. This unapologetic pacing shows respect for the seriousness of his subject: America’s deep, systemic issues.
In this iteration of the piece, it feels like Malbeuf is exploring the interplay of his different performance modes. Over the course of the hour, he moves fluidly between sharp stand-up, playful crowd work, theatrical scenes with lighting and staging shifts, and personal storytelling. While he’s skilled in each area, his strongest moments come in the theatrical breaks where staging and performance shift into mini-play-like moments. Additionally, his crowd work is not to be missed. One highlight was when an audience member’s phone rang early in the show; Maloeuf instantly riffed on it, playfully asking if they should answer and tell the caller it was Trump, then working in the man’s Florida background to land more improvised laughs.
Early in the piece we learn Malbeuf hasn’t performed for the last five years, and this show marks his return to it. Like many artists at Edinburgh, his trajectory to this moment feels like a story in itself. The piece is already smooth and well-constructed; if he leans even more into the theatricality and crowd interaction, his most dynamic tools, it could evolve into something truly outstanding.
This show is Highly Recommended for its polish, seamless multimedia integration, and the way Malbeuf balances entertainment with an unflinching look at serious issues, all while making the audience feel they’re in the hands of a confident, quick-witted host.
By the time you leave, you might feel like you’ve just witnessed an elegant coup in comedy. You won’t be sorry you went.
