Book, Music, Lyrics and Director: Justin Skelton
Dropping into London for two nights before it returns to the Edinburgh Fringe is Dystopia, a satirical show that is more gig theatre than rock opera. Taking place in a world that is mainly America, although Nigel Farage makes an appearance, Justin Skelton’s story is a thinly veiled attack on the populist politics of Trump and the ambitious plans of an evil businessman such as Musk. Most of all, Dystopia confronts the people – us – with letting such men rule the world. However, its barbs need to be much sharper.
The two-hour show begins in a prison where Beldon Haigh (Skelton) and Helen Raiser (Fiona Lynch) have formed a band. While Helen is inside for burning down a bank, the reasons why Beldon is in jail are less clear. Something to do with insider dealing or whistleblowing perhaps? The pair are to be seen as anti-capitalist heroes, and so it’s odd that the rest of the band consists of Putin, Trump and Kim Jong Un (Anna Fettes, Martin Barnaby and JT Stevens in very realistic masks).
Over 16 songs, mainly folk-rock inspired, Beldon portrays a world of propaganda and empty promises as President Blame, who tells us to snitch, seize and silence the opposition, faces a general election. His opposition is Magnanimous Moon, a kind of Richard Branson figure, who proclaims everyone will get rich if he is voted in. Both Blame and Moon are played energetically by Dru Baker, who also provides keyboard, flute and saxophone.
On either side of the stage are screens displaying the lyrics and most of Beldon’s narration. While this is a commendable addition for d/Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing members of the audience, the screens and the lyrics are too low for everyone to see. Perhaps these screens could be placed on stage in future rather than below it.
The screens also show images and film throughout. The first few songs – about the opium of the masses – are accompanied by striking pictures in the red-and-black style of Soviet Union prints and 1950s sci-film posters, but as Dystopia continues, it becomes clear that these images are AI-generated, a disingenuous decision, seeing that the show’s target is those who use AI in their social media. And very soon, the screens become a distraction, or to use the title of the last song – a pure distraction.
The songs themselves aren’t bad, and many of them defy genre. The best among them are the Latin-inspired Hermano and the clever Soap Machine that rhymes its title with dopamine. Pure Distraction, echoing the B-52s, is very catchy indeed. However, they all get a little lost in the cavernous space of the Leicester Square Theatre. Dystopia may sound better in a smaller venue, a pub, for instance, with the volume a few notches higher.
Although sustainability and climate change don’t feature in Skelton’s vision of the world, there’s a hell of a lot of plastic involved. Audience members are handed plastic flags, badges and shiny sheets of paper as they enter the auditorium. It’s a nice touch, but nevertheless, it does seem a waste.
Skelton and Lynch sing well, but the story they tell is a little confusing. The message that we get the politicians we deserve is a strong one, but there’s not enough anger or, indeed, comedy here to encourage us to make better decisions in the voting booth.
Runs until 17 July 2026 and then at Edinburgh Fringe
