Nesting ⭐⭐⭐⭐

“A father dreams of dying. A daughter dreams of living. A seagull dreams of being human. Francis is caged in his home by devotion, duty and a devastating diagnosis. A seagull offers an escape: it will nest inside his body, take control and free his pregnant daughter from the burden of his care. But what begins as selfless sacrifice risks becoming violent surrender.”

Ben Stansby's direction is so brilliant. It knows exactly what it wants to achieve and, more importantly, knows how to achieve it. The execution has real confidence, with every choice serving the story rather than simply looking clever. The balance between the absurdity and the very real emotional weight underneath it is handled beautifully.

Eleanor Higgins's set and costume design is simple and effective. Rather than filling the stage with unnecessary detail, it allows the story and performances to take centre stage, and that restraint works wonderfully. I particularly loved the window, which moves back and forth throughout the piece. Somehow, despite being used repeatedly, it never becomes annoying or predictable. Instead, it becomes part of the production's rhythm.

Sonia Killmann's lighting and sound are simply beautiful. Everything is wonderfully balanced, with the sound sitting at exactly the right level and the lighting states complementing rather than competing with what is happening onstage. The technical design becomes particularly powerful as the story heads towards its devastating conclusion, helping create an ending that hits incredibly hard. The original score is also a significant part of the production’s identity.

Peter McCormick's book is beautiful, funny, moving, devastating, and hugely emotional. Basically, it takes you on every possible emotional journey and then leaves you sitting there wondering what exactly just happened to your heart. What makes the writing particularly effective is that it doesn’t shy away from the difficult realities at its centre. The play explores care, dependency, death and the changing relationship between a parent and child when the child becomes the carer. Rather than turning the subject into a straightforward medical drama, it explores the emotional reality of loving someone while also feeling the weight of responsibility that comes with caring for them. And somehow, amongst all of that, it is genuinely funny. The seagull premise could so easily have turned this into something overly sentimental or relentlessly bleak. Instead, the absurdity gives the audience room to breathe. Humour, warmth, and even moments of ridiculousness sit alongside some incredibly difficult subject matter.

The production is also particularly important in the way it sheds light on Motor Neurone Disease and the experiences of people living with it and those who care for them. The company has developed the work with people diagnosed with MND, carers and MND organisations, which gives the subject a genuine sense of care rather than making it feel like a plot device.

The performances are emotional and take you on an absolute rollercoaster. The company makes you care deeply about the two central characters, and every performer brings a fully rounded performance to the production. A real honesty runs through the performances. Nobody feels like they are simply delivering a message or playing a “sad character”. Instead, these feel like complicated, messy human beings who love each other, frustrate each other, hurt each other and desperately want to do the right thing.

And that is what makes it so affecting. By the end, you are not simply watching a story about illness or care. You are watching people trying to navigate some of the most impossible decisions imaginable while still trying to maintain their relationships, their dignity and their sense of themselves.

Nesting is, without question, one of the most emotionally rich shows I have seen at this year’s Fringe. It is devastating without being relentlessly miserable, funny without undermining its subject matter and surreal without ever losing sight of the very human story underneath it. The show asks difficult questions about love, duty, care, sacrifice and what it really means to put someone else’s needs before your own. By the end, I was emotionally exhausted in the best possible way. This is theatre that stays with you.

Nesting is playing at Summerhall, Old Lab, at 4:30 pm, from 6 to 31 August, with no performances on 18 or 25 August. It runs for approximately 60 minutes.

Ready for a seagull to completely rearrange your emotions?

Book tickets for Nesting