Monstering The Rocketman

'EXCLUSIVE: ELTON IN VICE BOY SHAME'. When Elton John, 39, is falsely accused of bonking prostitutes, he launches Britain's largest libel lawsuit. But The Sun editor finds sorry the hardest word, and tries bullying the Rocketman into submission with a blistering campaign of Media harassment. Elton faces punch-ups, gangsters, bugged phone calls, a 10-million pound divorce suit and a pair of Devil Dogs. Will he remain still standing? Or will The Sun go down on him? Based on a true story, it's a drama about press values.

Henry Naylor’s Monstering the Rocketman doesn’t so much invite you in as it grabs you by the collar, sits you down, and says, “Listen up, this is important.” And honestly? You do. Because from the get-go, the direction is clear, sharp, and refreshingly uncluttered — no gimmicks, no fuss, just the story and the man telling it.

Lighting and sound? Let’s call them the solid supporting cast members. They do their job without stealing the limelight, which is probably the point. The real star in the design department is the simple set — just a chair and a series of video projections. Minimalist, yes, but it works brilliantly. The visuals don’t just decorate the stage; they help paint the bigger picture, bringing depth and texture to the narrative.

The script, also by Naylor, is a masterclass in pacing. Fast, but never frenetic. It sweeps you along at a clip, but you never lose your footing — and the story itself packs a punch. It’s a potent, timely commentary on how the media operates, past and present, drawing uncomfortable parallels between the decline of traditional journalism and the rise of online noise. By the end, you’re left thinking, “Oh, so this is still happening… and maybe getting worse.”

But the performance — that’s where the magic happens. Naylor is nothing short of electric, switching between himself and multiple characters with precision, nuance, and a physicality that makes every shift instantly clear. There’s a rawness in his delivery that makes it feel as though you’re not just watching him perform — you’re watching him relive it.

If I’m nitpicking, there’s room for a little more visual variety in the staging — the minimalism works, but a touch more dynamic lighting or sound design could take certain beats from “powerful” to “jaw-dropping.” Still, that’s splitting hairs.

In short: this is a lean, compelling piece of theatre with brains, heart, and a central performance that’s worth the ticket alone. You’ll leave entertained, informed, and maybe just a little bit unsettled — and isn’t that exactly what the Fringe is for?