Baby Wants Candy

“Donald Trump goes to Hogwarts!” hollers a terribly excited woman somewhere deep in this large, packed room, who clearly came prepared. And we’re off, following fresher Ivanka Trump all the way to Harry, Ron and Hermione’s old manor, where Donald has apparently swooped in like an amber-wigged vulture and is preparing to turn the whole place into luxury apartments. Harry Potter on stage: now there’s an idea.

This North American troupe has become quite an institution at the Fringe, partly due to the free sweets their people enthusiastically proffer around George Square, but chiefly because their show is an absolute blast. BWC’s USP is their funky-looking onstage live band, who add a bit of beef for the other half of audience who wouldn’t normally go to a musical for all the candy in America.

The singing is across-the-board impressive, which helps when the gags fail to fully materialise, or half the people on stage have only a tenuous knowledge of the subject matter, which is the case on this particular evening; but then that’s the fun of improv, if the performers are confident enough to surf that unpredictable wave. And this bunch certainly is.

On an early show of hands it’s clear that most of this audience have seen Baby Wants Candy before, it's a built-in benefit of the new-show-every-time model: fans will often return regularly during the same Fringe. One guy in the front row is visibly jumping up and down in his seat with the thrill of it all. You wouldn’t be surprised if he came every night.