Scotland

A Monty Python Cabaret Singalong Circus – St. Mark’s Church

There’s something deliciously wrong about sitting in an 1835 Unitarian church while a cheerful Australian pianist invites me to sing “Sit on My Face and Tell Me That You Love Me.” St Mark’s, designed by David Bryce, is a handsome bit of early Victorian stonework, high ceilings, clear acoustics, stained glass filtering the light, more accustomed to hymns than to songs about spam, lumberjacks, or finding myself in Finland for no apparent reason. Still, this is the Fringe, and in August the sacred and the silly often share a pew.

The show is the brainchild of Antony “Dr H” Hubmayer, an award winning music educator from Adelaide who, if his own jokes are to be believed, never wants to be a cabaret pianist anyway. He wants to be a lumberjack. Obviously. He has the sort of avuncular charm that works well for a sing along, a mixture of musical skill, knowing winks, and just enough storytelling to make me feel I’m in on the joke.

The set list is a Python greatest hits picnic, “Lumberjack Song” (complete with a gentle nod to cross dressing, as tradition demands), “I Like Chinese” (probably a shade too non PC for a 2025 health and safety comedy inspector, but all the funnier for it), “Finland,” “Knights of the Round Table,” and “Galaxy Song,” with the inevitable closer “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.” Spam makes its obligatory appearance, though thankfully only lyrically, no tins are harmed in the making of this performance.

The audience, perched on hard wooden pews that remind me why cushions were invented, is game for every chorus. Hubmayer keeps us involved with silly actions, bits of headwear, and the occasional unexpected key change. The sound system, alas, is a little tinny in places, you can only polish portable PA gear so far, even in a room with excellent acoustics. Still, the warmth of the performer and the shared absurdity of singing Monty Python in a working church make up for a few rough edges.

One of the church’s own comes out at the start to note that Fringe rentals help pay for the building’s upkeep, a reminder that even high culture, and low comedy, can help keep the roof over the congregation’s head.

By the end, I’m humming, grinning, and slightly sore from the seating. Not the slickest show at the Fringe, but one with genuine heart, a dash of chaos, and a performer who clearly enjoys himself.

Reviewer: Greg Holstead

Reviewed: 14th August 2025

North West End UK Rating: