Roar

There's a delightful incongruity to the way Roar fuses its 16th-century aesthetic with modern pop music. Four creatures of the night—downtrodden in filthy, authoritarian London—greet you on your way in, bedecked in wigs and bright, patchwork period dresses. They adore Beyonce and there's definitely something of that singer's recent single, 'Run the World (Girls)', that emanates from this piece by Dumbshow (also behind the lauded Clockheart Boy, which is enjoying another Fringe run this year). In it, the beautiful and commanding Moll Cutpurse has arrived from the New World and is raising an army, hell bent on toppling London's Chief Justice—also her twin brother from whom she was cut at birth—from his seat.

The actors in Roar are impressive, particularly the bawdy foursome that make up Moll's minions. The obsequious judges are wonderful too, offering up some of the sickest laughs in a play that revels in the grotesque. Together, these characters give the play much of its momentum, ensuring that it is huge fun when it wants to be but also sobering the atmosphere when events take a violent turn.

However, while it begins strongly, the narrative loses its way in the last third. The climactic fight feels jumbled rather than skilfully chaotic, and the devastating ending is a little abrupt. What Dumbshow really excel at is creating striking images that stick in your mind long after you've left the theatre – the very last scene providing an unforgettable snapshot of the perils of hero-worship and the nasty side of power.