Comedian and writer Dan Bishop brings his sharp new comedy Brainsluts to the Edinburgh Fringe 2025, offering a hilarious yet poignant look at the gig economy and the extremes people go to for financial survival.
Inspired by Bishop’s own experiences in clinical drug trials, the play follows five strangers navigating side effects, secrets, and shared struggles in a sterile testing room. With fast-paced dialogue and absurd humour, Brainsluts explores how connection can emerge in the most unlikely places.
Brainsluts runs from 30 July to 25 August (not 13th) at the Pleasance Dome, 14:45 daily. Tickets available here.
You’re bringing Brainsluts to the Pleasance Dome – what can you tell us about the show?
Brainsluts is a comedy play set in a clinical drugs trial: across five Sundays, five strangers swap stories about what made them sign up to the study, divulge bizarre details about their personal lives and do pretty much anything they can to fill the silence.
Something the participants have in common is that they’re all struggling to gain full-time employment and they think society needs radical change. However, despite their strong convictions that something must be done, they are – unfortunately – deeply clueless about what exactly they must do.
Brainsluts draws from your own experiences with the gig economy and drug trials – how did those shape the story?
Yes, so from working lots of different jobs I’ve come across lots of different people who, similarly to me, felt like the work we were doing was either pointless, boring or evil. These conversations I had with co-workers, about the bleakness and absurdity of the work, really fed into the play’s characters.
I also think there’s an intimacy sometimes to doing shift work – many times I’ve caught myself opening up to the stranger standing next to me whilst we repeat the same menial task – and this idea of ‘the comfort of strangers’ is definitely present in the show.
I’ve signed up to my fair share of trials, but I’ve never got past the blood-test screening because the medication I’m on and my previous health conditions always rule me out. Flu Camp still give you £40 just for doing the blood test though, which is nice of them (and last time I did this, I immediately spent my winnings in the pub…).
But, despite not making it to the later stages myself, I’ve made sure to speak to lots of people who have taken part in clinical research, either as participants or as coordinators. One of my favourite stories comes from a close friend of mine, whose mum would sign her up to do clinical trials as a child whenever they were low on cash – one time she had to drink a pint of lard. So yeah, I hope all these conversations help bring a degree of authenticity to the play.
The show balances absurd comedy with serious themes like financial precarity and mental health. How did you approach that balance?
Well, most of my writing and performing experience comes from being part of the sketch comedy double act Mudfish (with Molly Windust), and so my instinct has always been to grasp for a joke.
But I think as the play unfolds, and you get to know more about these characters, space opens up for them to hint at what’s really going on.
What was it like collaborating with Emmeline Downie, Rob Preston, and the rest of the creative team?
Well, I’ve known Rob and Emm from doing live comedy for years and they have always made me laugh until I weep, so they were the first people I texted when I wanted to do a table read of the first ever draft of the script.
Since they’ve come on board, they have really helped mould the characters, and the play is so much better for it.
The rest of the team are also stand-ups, character comedians, and writers, which was a deliberate casting choice. Not only because they are all so, so funny, but also because the nature of their work means they understand the necessity of patching different sources of income together to construct a liveable life.
What do you hope audiences take away from the characters’ shared experiences and the world you’ve created?
Well, my dream is that every audience will leave recounting their favourite jokes and farcical set pieces, but I also hope that the play shows that there’s maybe this quiet dignity in not being able to make your life work in the way you want it to.
What would you say to anyone thinking of booking to see Brainsluts?
Come along! We promise we will make you laugh as much as any sketch show or stand-up hour at the Fringe, but on top of that, our show also has a lot of heart.
Our cast of comedians are not only fantastically funny, they also are great actors and bring so much tenderness to the characters. You will be completely charmed by them.
