All Right Sunshine, written by Isla Cowan and directed by Debbie Hannan, is a blistering one-woman play that probes power, gender, and the policing of public space, with a performance that holds the room in an iron grip. At its heart is Molly Geddes as PC Nicky McCreadie, delivering a turn of such intensity and nuance that it feels less like acting and more like possession.
From the outset, we know this is about the police, but the framing is unexpected, Geddes’ McCreadie is just five foot tall, far removed from the towering physical ideal once required of recruits. The irony is not lost. Once upon a time, men had to be six feet tall and women five foot eight to join the force. Now here is a small-statured officer, pigeonholed as a “mother figure” on weekend shifts, yet treated with a casual discrimination that underlines how far, and how little, things have changed.
The Meadows, that green Edinburgh expanse, becomes the stage within the stage. McCreadie sketches its daily rhythms with wit and sharp detail, the “yummy mummies” in Chanel lipstick, ferrets on leads, jammies-clad dog-walkers, joggers pounding their routes, teenagers vaping strawberry clouds by night. She admits she once was one of them, hanging about in the dark drinking alcohol and smoking, her father, a policeman himself, mercifully never catching her.
But one scrap of sunlight and the peace dissolves. Corner shops cleared of cut price booze and a hummus and olives shortage at Waitrose becomes emblematic of how quickly a bright sunny day can mask conflict. “It looks like community,” she says, “but seen up close it’s a different story.” People are capable of terrible things, worse than football hooligans, and that’s why she is always rostered on at weekends.
Her law enforcing father looms large in memory, a man more interested in his ‘boys’ club’ than his family, quick to frustration at home, forever telling her “dinnae be emotional, dinnae be weak, dinnae be a girl.” He predicts she’ll be head of the force one day, yet his own casual cruelty shapes her as much as his uniform ever did. Two of his favourite sayings echo throughout, refrains that haunt the piece like ghosts in her armour.
That armour is not just metaphorical. Over the course of the performance, Geddes methodically gears up, from plain shirt to full kit, each addition of fabric and hardware a layering of protection and distance. By the time she is fully tooled up, she seems almost encased, a body turned symbol, stripped of vulnerability yet still profoundly human underneath.
Cowan’s script is lean, sharp, and devastatingly observant, while Hannan’s direction is taut, allowing no escape for performer or audience. McCarthy’s sound design underscores rather than intrudes, amplifying the slow build of pressure.
The final turn of events in the Meadows lands with brutal clarity. The pigeons do, indeed, come home to roost.
This is an excellent show, brilliantly acted, powerfully written, and staged with precision. All Right Sunshine is everything a Fringe play should be, local in setting, universal in resonance, and razor sharp in its execution.
16:20 Daily (except 18th) Till 24th August
https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/2025ALRIGHT
Reviewer: Greg Holstead
Reviewed: 17th August 2025
North West End UK Rating:
Running time – 1hr