2026 Toronto Fringe Festival

2026 Toronto Fringe Festival 

We will be updating this page as we watch more shows.

It’s Fringe season again! WOO HOO! I will be doing my very, very best to review as many shows as possible, giving them an honest but fair shake. No matter what I say, I applaud each show for going the distance and doing something incredibly difficult: putting on a show. As last year, I will be adding a ‘grade’ to each and every review.

A+ – A fantastic show, on my “Must See” List for the year.

A – A great show, but with a few bumps to smoothen out. Still worth seeing.

B – Has many elements of a great show, but needs work before the next production. Go into the show with an open mind. 

C – May not be the best show out there, but I can appreciate their hard work and recognize the courage it takes to put on a show. Proceed with a very open mind if attending. 

D – Needs a lot of work before giving it another go. Don’t give up, creating theatre is not easy! 

* * * * * 

War Dog

Rating: B+ (Almost an A-)

Despite its name, War Dog is not simply just a show about growing up as an army brat. It’s a brave, vulnerable introspective on how moments in our lives shape who we are, and how we see the world. This is a great example of a show that embraces the Fringe spirit, by putting storytelling at its forefront, and writer and performer Mike D. Smith does an amazing job telling his story earnestly and emotionally. 

The show is a simple one in set design, and relies on gentle lighting cues, projections on a white screen, and sound effects/music to tell its tale fully. I think these are smart choices, because it really elevates and highlights Smith as a storyteller. This is also emphasized by Smith’s delivery of the script, though it was not 100% memorized. The director was in the audience to prompt him if he got lost, which happened twice, but admittedly it’s a long script. Memorizing an hour-long solo show is hard, but has been done quite effectively by other artists attempting to put on solo shows with meaningful elements of storytelling. This is a mistake I see some artists make: assuming that just because you wrote it, that you know it inside and out. 

I was really quite impressed with exactly how vulnerable Smith got with the audience, unpacking his complications with his family and many layers of trauma. I appreciate the thought process of trying to wrestle with the idea that his trauma is valid, especially as a son of a soldier who went through many traumas of his own. Being a kid of the 70s, that generation has not exactly been known as a generation that has been in touch with their feelings, let alone willing to share them with an audience. 

There are a few things that will elevate this show, and take it to new levels. In addition to the memorization, playing more with visuals and sounds would benefit the production. Having appropriate pre-show music, more projections of personal photos, and reducing some of the unnecessary sound effects, like the sound of kids laughing or the hockey ‘score’ sound effect would actually elevate the words more. On the flipside of that, some gentle instrumental moments in specific points of the show could also create even more feeling and emotion for us as an audience. 

I should also say, this show talks about suicide and depression, mentioning the use of a gun to see how it would feel to “end it all”, but there was no content warning anywhere. That should be fixed asap.

I also felt that the show ended sort-of abruptly. Spoiler alert, in the story we learn that Mike runs away from home, and we know he connects with his family again…but we don’t know how. How did his family react to finding out he was ok? That he built a new life? How did he repair his relationship with his dad? We as an audience have invested ourselves in Smith’s story, but then it just falls with a bit of an incomplete ending. He also mentions a few times instances where he sees someone as a ‘sissy’, even saying that when he was struggling heavily with his mental health he saw God as a ‘sissy’, but we never get any resolution there either. Why make a point to use this word so boldly only to never return? 

The ending ending is also a little odd. He has a beautiful moment where he speaks to the memories of his dad, his childhood dog who he loved immensely, and his 11 year old self. It was very moving and touching, but then in order to have a ‘happy ending’, we watch a slightly cringy dance routine to the ever popular wedding dance floor song, YMCA by the Village People, calling to where he lived when he first moved to Toronto as a young man with no place to go. The power of the show is in the storytelling, and the taking the audience through a lifetime of ups and downs, and unfortunately and all that work to build us up emotionally to just be let down. If he ended the show talking to the memories, and maybe having a moment to talk about how he’s thrived and survived through those memories, it would leave the audience with that wonderful feeling of true connection. 

Though this show does need work, it is a wonderful example of great storytelling, and what the Fringe is made for: to empower people to tell their stories. I applaud the entire War Dog team and encourage you to see this show if you like storytelling, have a tie to living life as a child of a military parent, or someone struggling with their mental health. 

* * * * * 

Mary, Mary 

Rating: B+

On the surface, Mary Mary is a story of the most important women in the life of Jesus Christ, but deep down, it’s a story of how the efforts of women are played down and forgotten. This two hander starring Jennifer Vallance as Mother Mary, and Rojan Molanian as Mary Magdalene shows the two women at crucial moments in the final chapter of Christ’s life, up until his death. Vallance and Molanian do an incredible jon in opening up their emotions to the audience, playing these incredibly powerful women as earnestly and as passionately as possible. Mary Mary is an exploration of faith and love when faced with fear and the undeniable truth that the man they both love so deeply is about to die. 

What struck me most about this piece is how the two Marys are portrayed as two halves of Jesus himself. Mother Mary being the strong, steadfast, devout servant of God represents Jesus’ divine side, and Mary Magdalene represents his human side, falling in love with his kindness and care, seeing her for who she is, not who others say she is. Mother Mary is also seen acting almost as an unmoveable stone in her faith, happy to stand by and watch her son suffer for it is ‘God’s will’, while Mary Magdalene wants to fight to spare this man his life. Two halves once again.

A lot of the directing choices felt very intentional and well thought out, especially in how the actors physically carried themselves. The contrast between Mother Mary’s slow, restrained presence and Mary Magdalene’s more chaotic, almost frantic energy really stood out and helped define their worlds without needing much explanation. The simplicity of the set also worked in the production’s favour—it felt purposeful and allowed the focus to stay on the performances and the story. That said, a few of the projection choices, like the spray-painted graffiti at the beginning, felt a bit less necessary. At times, it seemed like the production was reaching for a modern edge that didn’t always need to be there, when the strength of the piece was already in its performances and text.  

Vallance’s portrayal of Mother Mary is heartfelt and grounded. For most of the play, she carries herself with the quiet strength of a woman who has spent her life living under the weight of an extraordinary calling. That restraint works well throughout much of the story. Because of that, I found myself wanting a bigger physical release when Jesus dies. Vallance’s voice is filled with grief and rage, but I wanted to see that same heartbreak reflected in her body. For most of the monologue she remains fairly still, only collapsing into tears at the very end—a choice often referred to in musical theatre as a “park and bark.”

Whether that was Vallance’s choice or a directing decision, it felt like a moment that could have gone even further. After all, Mother Mary has just watched her son be tortured and killed in front of her. The emotion is already there in the performance—I just wanted to see her body give in to that grief as much as her voice did. I think leaning into that physical breakdown could make an already powerful scene even more moving.

What I admired most about the script by Amanda Gauvin Allen and John Thomas, dramaturged by Ayesha Mansur Gonsalves, was its lyrical quality. The language is poetic and fluid, yet never loses sight of making the Marys feel like real, authentic people rather than distant biblical figures. The writers clearly approached the material with great care, balancing prose with voices that remained authentic to the characters and respectful of the source material.

That same reverence, however, also presented the play’s greatest challenge. Reimagining figures whose stories have been told and interpreted for centuries is no easy task, particularly when the goal is to honour scripture while filling in gaps in what we know about these women. I found myself appreciating the craft of the writing more than discovering something genuinely new about these women. The play reinforced many ideas that progressive and liberal Christian audiences may already recognize—particularly around the treatment of women in the Bible and the compassionate, inclusive way Jesus called his followers to love—but it did not give me a fresh perspective.

I was consistently engaged by the story and deeply respected its intentions, yet I found myself wanting a little more of a dramatic flair. As thoughtful and affirming as the play was, it never quite swept me away emotionally or theatrically. It feels strange to ask for more “entertainment” from a work that approaches its subject with such sincerity and reverence, but theatre ultimately asks to both provoke reflection and captivate an audience.

I also felt that the use of microphones in this were unnecessary and in fact distracted from the performance when levels were not correct. These actors should have been able to project and enunciate with ease in a space like the Cake Cabaret. My last critique of the show was that though I appreciate the end of the show acting as a reflection and call to action for people to live more like Christ did versus obsess over what’s been written about him, and the unfair treatment of these two iconic women, it felt just a little too preachy, and didn’t end on the note I was hoping it was going to. 

Overall, I really enjoyed and appreciated Mary Mary, but they may have been preaching to the choir a little bit with me personally. Even with a few moments where I wanted the production to push the narrative or the emotions a little further, it’s still a thoughtful and carefully made tribute to two women whose true stories have been lost to history, and the men who chose what to write and accept about them. There’s a real sense of care in how the story is told, and that comes through in both the writing and the performances. 

*****

Such Ado!

Rating: A

So, here’s the thing, I’m a bad theatre goer. Mainly because I’ve only seen or read a small number of Shakesphere plays. I know the gist of most of them, but still, bad thespian! However, when I heard a youth theatre group was taking a beloved Shakesphere play, and making it “gay af”, I knew I had to see it. Such Ado takes Much Ado About Nothing and drops it into the present day, swapping iambic pentameter for modern speech and looks through at the play through a fully queer lens on love, identity, and expectation. Set at a prestigious university where the battlefield has become the soccer field, the story follows Bea and Ben as they spar with words, while Claudia and Hera fall into a tender romance under the watchful (and increasingly jealous) eye of Jonathan. It’s playful, fast-moving, and very aware of its own theatricality, often breaking the fourth wall and leaning into a sense of shared space with the audience—especially in a venue like Cake Cabaret. I couldn’t believe how fast 90 minutes flew while I was watching the show, with the pacing of the show at a great rate. 

There are some really smart directorial and writing choices throughout, including occasional flourishes of Elizabethan-inspired language that give the text a bit of texture and nod to its source material. However, a few performers could benefit from slowing down and articulating more clearly, especially in moments where the story is moving quickly or layered with jokes. There were unfortunately times where I caught myself straining to understand what an actor was saying, and I know some witty lines got lost in an attempt to make the pacing feel “believeable”. In a show stacked with talent, weak moments stand out like a sore thumb. 

That said, the cast is genuinely strong across the board. Elise Bauman, Frances Loiselle, and Liam Kinahan are particular standouts, bringing excellent comedic timing, commitment, and a sense of joy that really lifts the production. Their performances make the world of the play feel fun, energetic, and easy to get swept up in. This is also where Such Ado shines most clearly: as an example of accessible queer theatre that feels rooted in youth, humour, and possibility.

If there’s one element that doesn’t quite land, it’s the sound design. The repeated use of the same segment of the “All the Things You Said” remix from Heated Rivalry becomes distracting over time, to the point where it starts to pull focus rather than support the action. After the first three times, I wondered to myself, “This again?” The scene transitions set to this music also came out of nowhere and felt jarringly loud, and started to water down my overall enjoyment of the show. 

At its core, though, the show is doing interesting work in how it frames manipulation, expectation, and the pressure of gendered norms. The antagonistic forces in the story aren’t just individual characters, but the broader conservative and gender-normative systems they represent. These norms were displayed brilliantly by Jillian Robinson who played the staunch president of the University, who supports the school’s gender-non conforming soccer team because they make the university look good, but not her daughter’s journey as a queer woman, because of her ‘reputation’. This show has a lot to say, but at its core, Such Ado is a super cute queer love story, on stage at a time where people are trying to silence queer voices, especially when it comes to our youth. It’s a fresh, energetic take on a familiar story, and while not every element fully lands, Such Ado remains an entertaining and often very funny piece of theatre that’s easy to root for.

*****

[Review by Shan Fernando]

Toronto Fringe Festival runs from June 30th- July 12th, 2026

Tickets can be purchased here