Getting in early before the Fringe deluge hits us on Friday, Emma Knights Productions invited a review of the final dress rehearsal of this satire on reality TV dating and relationship shows. The pre-show announcement warned that the production was still in its final formative state. Or words to that effect. With tightened scene transitions, better articulation and stronger vocal work, this good-natured send-up of so-called ’reality’ television has a well-balanced recipe for entertainment which will not only delight people who know all the tropes of the shows but will amuse and divert any audience. The story, echoing popular ‘reality’-TV shows, revolves around a male bachelor (here nominated as a ‘Bachie’) who, in a series of scenes designed to crush the sternest bra-burning Second Wave feminist, seeks to find his perfect love by choosing his preferred companion. You know how this works. There’s much to satirise in the format itself, let alone the situations it creates. As the ‘Bachie’, Trevor Anderson is asked to be all things to all women. This is a big ask. His spoken work is under-energised. This resulted in much of the plot not being heard seven rows back. His singing voice has a pleasing quality, but again lacks strength, particularly in his mid-range. Once he sings higher, his vocal clarity improves. Articulation could be clearer. Five women vie for the Bachie’s affections; they compete to receive a rose at the end of each session in order to remain in the contest. Nina Richards plays Laura, a bewildered scientist who seems to have wandered onto the wrong set, with energy and clarity. Maryann Boettcher’s character is Melanie, an online Influencer, devious, disruptive and mischievous. Ashlee, an oddball contestant who insists on wearing a wedding dress, is Audrey Treadrea. While she looks great, her vocal energy is rarely sufficient for the room. We frequently miss her words. Earnest Sarah, a health and well-being expert, is played with gusto by Fiona DeLaine. Sarah Whiteley’s gangling, opportunistic hippy jeweller named Kale (pronounced “Carly”) shines brightly throughout. Genial presenter Andy, played by Josh Barkley, helps manage the competition’s ceremonies. Eden Trebilco does a fine portrait of a harassed TV producer whose job’s on the line if this show doesn’t hit the ratings. He worked with consistent clarity throughout. The show needs tightening, particularly in its scene changes. Back-projections of the mansion and its grounds help propel the story forwards. Each time they change, there is a blackout, with scurrying shadows setting or striking props. Then suddenly, mercifully, it’s lights-up on the next scene. Transitions could be effected much more smoothly without the blackouts. The first song, Tortured Soul, is a testosterone-soaked revelation for Trevor Anderson’s character, Jimmy JJ. The writing invites adventurous parody and Anderson could have had a lot more fun with it than he did. I expect it to grow into a hugely comic starter number as the run proceeds. In his deliciously titled solo I Can’t Think With My Shirt On, he didn’t even oblige us with the promised revelation. Sarah Whiteley, as Kale provided many comic moments, and her solid vocal work (both spoken and sung) ensured that we always got her jokes. Maryann Boettcher understands comic timing, and hands in a clear and energetic performance, especially in Accidental Villain. As Sarah, Fiona DeLaine gets the (equivalent) ten o’clock number, Second-Best Girlfriend. This gift of a song owes its genesis to ABBA’s ‘The winner takes it all’. DeLaine will have a lot more fun with its sheer histrionic possibilities as the show continues. This parody musical has music and lyrics by Samara Gill and Emma Knights. Emma Knights is Director, Producer and Musical Director. Knights also wrote the book of the show. To structure a musically-based show of an hour’s length with eighteen musical numbers is somewhere between ambitious and foolhardy. Knight’s book is quite tidy. The music (Knights & Gill) is pop-based, clearly designed to support the sung lyrics. Lyrics are more problematic, with scansion, prosody and rhyming oddities challenging the singers. There is much satirical fun to be had at the bachelor mansion, and Knights and Gill have mined this seam of humour with affection and energy. Now the first-night nerves are over, expect entertainment and hilarity from this show. Ashlee, when she wins the Bachie’s heart, sings to him ‘I’m so TV-in-love with you, Reality’s nowhere in sight’. The Bachie responds by calling her ‘ the least annoying girlfriend’. You get the picture… it’s highly accessible fun for a whole lot of reasons.