REVIEW: FRAT, Namesake Theatre, EdFringe 2025 ★★★★

Oh, to be a fly on the wall when corrupt men get what’s coming for them. FRAT gives audiences the opportunity to watch the rise and (partial) fall of members of a classic American college fraternity, providing an ‘inside’ view of the conversations that go on behind closed doors when serious allegations are made against powerful, entitled young men. The incredibly slick script by Max Allen explores the tensions between tradition, friendship, cruelty and compassion, and how – even now – college fraternities might be one of the most potent cesspits of toxic masculinity going.

To bring to light new perspectives to frat culture is a challenging feat. We’ve seen cruel Frat-Bro types in pop culture for decades now: blatant objectification of women, glorification of sexual conquests, aggressive peer-pressured drinking, and ever-astonishing details of how pledges are mercilessly bullied to prove their worth to a group of barely-adult peers. Fraternity culture is not an unknown concept, then, even to audiences outside of the US, and so in this way Namesake Theatre is not quite breaking new ground. If anything, where fresher, newer sociopolitical debates are bouncing from every venue in Edinburgh, the production almost feels a little behind the times. However, the show manages to offer a new take by imagining the conversations that often remain behind concealed.

We are inducted into the menacing halls of Frat culture via Halloween-esque echoing sound effects that place us in the midst of a new member being assessed (to put it lightly) – a sort of horrific application process filled with cruelty, trickery and straight-up bullying. The stakes are quickly convincing; these men are barely adult but have learnt how to be utterly ruthless to retain control and order in their sacred society. Polished performances throughout create an environment of coercion and performativity, with constant approval-seeking. Smooth, cutting, largely arrogant, and occasionally prone to hate speech: these men have never been questioned.

Allen’s writing is a treat in its consistent wit and shiver-inducing smarm, ensuring that all four characters are somewhere in the true-to-life, confusing balance of ‘villain’ and ‘charmingly likeable’. This is much more of a gratifying premise than if the alleged perpetrator had been brash, calculated, or downright hateful. Instead, Brent (Luke Stiles) is arguably the most understated of the group, even grounding the cocksure Charles (Elliott Diner) and gently admonishing him for using homophobic language.

It would have been excellent to see a snippet more of the underlying thread here: is Alex queer, closeted and afraid? Is he secretly accepted because he is already in the fold? Is he a straight man who is vilified for sport? Dexter (Will Hammond) meanwhile is the increasingly frustrating wet flannel, sycophantically bowing to the others but trying to bring a modicum of ethics to the frat and then, it is implied, losing his nerve when he has a real opportunity to influence future change. Hammond’s performance is wonderfully endearing, soft and friendly. It is clear how much the audience has warmed to him when an out-of-character twist provokes astonished gasps toward the end.

FRAT is a very, very tight production, skilfully directed by Olivia Woods to great effect. There isn’t quite enough retribution for the ending to be truly satisfying, but of course, this is more faithful to reality – no charges pressed, no trial, just a sweeping-under-the-rug. We are left with a band aid, but no proof whatsoever that the festering wound of toxic masculinity in the fraternity has been dealt with. All in all, despite some genuine laughs out loud, it was a sad and distressing watch – which relays just how impressive a show it was.

Recommended Drink: Bud Light – a lot of it, very quickly, while you’re chanted at aggressively.

Performances of FRAT have now concluded at EdFringe 2025.