Queer Folks’ Tales
★★★★★ Triumphant
Scottish Storytelling Centre (Venue 30): Wed 6 – Wed 20 Aug 2025
Review by Orna Clarke
Queer Folks’ Tales at the Scottish Storytelling Centre every Wednesday of the Fringe is a powerful celebration of storytelling and community, as entertaining as it is moving.
The first of its three Fringe editions is nothing short of a triumph: queer joy and pain are laid bare as six accomplished storytellers deliver an assortment of ‘big’ and ‘micro’ stories.
Host Turan Ali warms up the audience – a mix of QFT regulars and ‘virgins’ – with a gentle ribbing of the so-called ‘hettie allies’ in the room, remarking that it’s a two-hour show, so ‘whether you like it or not, you’re not leaving’ – but anyone would be hard pressed not to thoroughly enjoy what’s in store.
Queer Folks’ Tales performers (Wed 6) : Morgan Rees, Hope London, Turan Ali, Ana Falcon, James Barr and Jane Postlethwaite. Pic: QFT.
Ali shares his micro stories between their longer counterparts: cheeky anecdotes which include his mission to reclaim the word ‘slut’ – he recounts sizing up his ‘competition’ in the waiting room for the Gonorrhoea vaccine – and a perfectly-paced retelling of a dinner party with a twist, garnering a satisfying collective groan from the audience.
Stage lights bouncing off her disco-ball cowboy hat, Ana Falcon weaves an intersecting tapestry of family and community as she reminisces on growing up with a ‘drag queen nanny’ in 1990s Mexico. Each of the night’s storytellers succeeds at finely balancing emotion and humour, and Falcon’s tearful address on the issue of drag queens being persecuted for working with children is arresting.
The audience is back in Ali’s capable hands as he provides a timely reminder of the show’s purpose: ‘to share the joy of being queer, but also some of the harsh realities, and the universality of that.’
scandalous
Hope London reflects on queerness in childhood, deftly tackling the ‘always-crossing-swords’ mother-child relationship and the arbitrary assignment of gender at birth, recounting a reluctant pixie cut and an innocent childhood love story gone wrong.
London signs off with a song, a jazzy number about the mystery of gender with the catchy refrain of ‘not to cut the point too fine’ (before proceeding to cut the point very fine indeed).
Ali closes out the first half of the show with a scandalous retelling of his friend’s spot of bother while hooking up with a married ‘straight’ man, with heteronormativity the victim of his punchline.
The audience is invited to share their own micro stories, some being read aloud by the second half’s fresh storyteller lineup. Ali meets a reflection on bisexuality with a heartfelt contribution on bi imposter syndrome and exclusion.
Morgan Rees caveats that this is his story’s first telling, which isn’t betrayed by his natural flow. He opens on a light note about his ‘30 years divorced’ parents’ respective idyllic retirements going awry – and there is even a clever ad-libbed callback to one of Ali’s earlier stories – but the tale quickly turns dark, covering drinking culture, working class homophobia, abuse and toxic masculinity. Its core message is uplifting, though, on the importance of empathy and intergenerational relationships.
off the cuff
Jane Postlethwaite – whose central question is ‘Did a podcast make me gay?’ – deals with coming to terms with her sexuality in 1980s Britain, with a strangely appropriate comparison between choosing teen boyfriends and choosing a cardigan in the charity shop. Around the central events of her story, she’s at her best and most natural when she’s off the cuff.
James Barr is the only choice to close the show. He executes that balance of humour and emotion as if on a knife’s edge, opening with a joke about diversifying from dick jokes to trauma, like Beyonce going country. He’s both vulnerable and good-humoured throughout the difficult recounting of his abusive relationship, and how he sought professional help (through Botox and other methods).
It’s a heart-wrenching few minutes which ultimately promote hope, and the possibility of our individual and communal liberation from shame.
The evening is a beautiful celebration of the power of storytelling to commune, uplift and heal – none more so than Barr’s contribution, a poignant reminder of how sharing your story can save someone from the same fate.
Queer Folks’ Tales is a safe space, yes, but it doesn’t just make the audience feel comfortable – it encourages abandoning one’s comfort zone in favour of joy, courage and pride.
Running time: Two hours (including one interval).
Scottish Storytelling Centre (Netherbow Theatre), 43-45 High St, EH1 1SR (Venue 30).
Wed 6 – Wed 20 August 2025.
Wednesdays only: 8.30pm.
Tickets and details: Book here on EdFringe.com.
Instagram: @queerfolkstales
ENDS
