Is the Edinburgh Fringe too small?

The official brochure launch, which boasted that the festival was going to play host to 3,269 shows in 294 venues, revealed that the numbers are 'marginally' down from 2015, with a whole 0.5% fewer shows.

“It’s unbelievable,” said a source, who spoke to The Skinny on the condition of anonymity. “The half-percentage dip is clearly a bad omen. I don’t want a festival that’s 0.5% smaller, I want one that’s bigger than ever before, just like they say every year.”

The marked decline in the numbers this year has lead to fears that performers might actually make a profit, as a slight decrease in shows could correct the basic supply-and-demand problem causing low audiences at many gigs, prompting the annual glut of handwringing 'Is the Fringe Too Big?' articles.

The 2015 Fringe was the most successful on record, with 3,314 shows in 313 venues. Over 250 million tickets were bought by people with lots of money. The reason for the unprecedented drop is thought to be due to a number of temporary venues not being used this year, and the fact that 100 dedicated events for Fringe participants have been put into a separate programme for the very first time. However, these mitigating factors were waved away by another attendee: "This is a sign of impending doom. I don’t like change. I’m definitely voting Brexit now."

'The Fringe is Dead'

Fringe participants have also been shocked by the news of this sudden, unpredictable decline, including those who are not appearing at the festival this year. Comedians Jessica Fostekew and Caroline Mabey are about to appear at the Frome Fringe in Somerset, which their PR team, Penny and Polly from About a Comb PR, insist is "actually bigger than Edinburgh now”.

“Edinburgh's been dead for years," says Fostekew, “We’ve all been literally flogging a dead horse. My flogging arm is tired.”

“Everyone knows it’s dead,” continues Mabey, “but there’s a secret pact not to talk about it, in the hope of getting a few more years of misery out of it before the stench gets too much even for Edinburgh audiences.”

Butting in, PR woman Polly of About A Comb PR believes that the Fringe's inability to reward her acts with fame, fortune and countless industry gongs is further evidence that the festival has taken its last gasp: "Also, it promised to get at least one of our acts a nomination." When pressed, Polly admits she doesn't know which award she is talking about, but adds, "Then nothing. Admittedly our acts are awful. They’re mostly female comediennes.”

“Last year the Fringe did some really mean things," purrs PR woman Polly's trusted associate Penny. "Like, it told me to meet it outside the Abattoir Bar and it would walk me in. But then it never turned up and I had to talk to some people who weren’t famous. It was disgusting.”

However, unlike their characterful publicists, Fostekew and Mabey are hopeful the Fringe can revive and return to its former glory and entice both participants and audiences back.

“All it has to do is get really, really small – like, just us,” muses Fostekew. “Or else propose, stop sleeping around or apologise publicly for ruining our lives.” Meanwhile Mabey is much more open to returning to Auld Reekie’s cobbled streets once more, sighing wistfully, “I’d do it for a free bread roll.”