Review: Brrr – Edinburgh International Children’s Festival 2026

Is it possible to create a piece of immersive theatre capable of including and responding to any and all of its intended young audience? That is the ambitious question posed by Hayley Earlam’s Brrr, and the answer it offers is as gentle as it is magical.

Part of the Made in Scotland Showcase for young people aged ten to eighteen with complex needs, the production actively dismantles the traditional barriers between performer and spectator, yielding a highly tailored, sensory experience.

A Stage for Everyone: Inside the Snowglobe

Set within a large, inflatable dome that evokes a pristine igloo, the performance space is dressed in an encompassing white-on-white aesthetic. It is a stage built for everyone to occupy equally, with ample room to accommodate wheelchairs and other mobility aids for its intimately capped audience of eight.

The experience begins with a brilliantly judged, gentle introduction. Performers, also clad in white, move among the audience, initiating interaction with nothing but their instincts, their specialized training, and an array of tactile snowballs. It is a deeply welcoming entry point into a world that feels distinctly like stepping inside a gentle snowstorm housed within a snowglobe.

Fearless Choreography and Tactile Invention

The true triumph of Brrr lies in its execution. The cast maintains an unbroken, personal connection with the room while seamlessly sliding through elegant, mesmeric choreography. Their ability to fearlessly weave both the most and least mobile audience members into the fabric of the show is remarkable. It takes a specific kind of artistic courage and deep spatial awareness for dancers to execute their steps while children actively seek to take part and move through the performance area.

The true triumph of Brrr lies in its execution. The cast maintains an unbroken, personal connection with the room while seamlessly sliding through elegant, mesmeric choreography.

When the choreography is augmented, it is done with careful intent. Minimal props add layers of sound and motion without causing sensory overload: a large tube acts as an impromptu ‘phone’ for wintry percussion, while fans send flurries of silvery snow sweeping into the air.

The Boundaries of Maximal Inclusivity

Because the production folds itself so intimately around its audience, no two performances will ever be the same. The central narrative spine remains, but the living structure of the show shifts based on who is in the room.

**Brrr by Hayley Earlam © Brian Hartley**

The careful training and continual attention to their surroundings also minimise the risks of disruption and/or accidental injury. All intersections require a degree of practical compromise, however. So, despite the evident caution taken by a superb ensemble, I fear that leaving it entirely to carer discretion to decide what is and isn’t safe behaviour introduces a degree of risk. That said, every effort is made to make audiences aware of the relaxed nature of the show, so everyone entering the space does so fully informed. You might even argue that a frisson of the unpredictable adds something new to every performance.

Ultimately, the production achieves its artistic goals beautifully. As the piece concludes with a visual sequence evoking the Northern Lights, the ‘snow people’ settle down to sleep, bringing the sensory journey to a peaceful, grounding close.

Brrr is a profound, highly responsive piece of theatre that honours its specific audience with absolute, uncompromising sincerity.

Featured Image: Brrr by Hayley Earlam © Brian Hartley