⭐⭐⭐⭐

Rating: 4 out of 5.

The true horror in Kira Mason’s Under The Bed isn’t the creature dwelling beneath the mattress; it’s the crushing weight of societal conformity pressing down from above. Staged as part of the Edinburgh Horror Festival 2025 at the Banshee Labyrinth, Not So Nice! Theatre Company’s latest production uses the architecture of camp body horror to dismantle the traditional “monster” narrative. While the production was viewed via recording post-festival, the claustrophobic intimacy of the piece translates vividly, offering a sharp, sometimes graphic exploration of societal expectations and identity that proves Mason is a playwright to watch.

Performances pitch sideways of humanity

However strong the writing, however, much of the production’s success hangs on the chemistry between its two leads, both of whom deliver excellent performances that ground the fantastical setting in emotional reality.

Grace Baker’s Nix—the entity residing in the “Underbed”—is pitched delightfully sideways of humanity. Baker manages to be simultaneously like and unlike us, combining a child-like delight in her subterranean home with a possessiveness over the “offerings” (lost items) that fall from the world above. There is a sinister edge to her performance, yet she makes this “monster” hugely likable.

However strong the writing, however, much of the production’s success hangs on the chemistry between its two leads, both of whom deliver excellent performances that ground the fantastical setting in emotional reality.

In stark contrast, Eleanor Tate’s Luna is a ball of neuroses barreling into Nix’s sanctuary. Tate portrays Luna as a woman struggling to escape a vicious cycle of self-loathing long enough to recognize the acceptance Nix offers. It is a complex, brave performance; Luna is more sympathetic than likable, driven by a towering need for normality that ultimately proves more poisonous than any monster’s bite.

Eleanor Tate and Grace Baker in Under the Bed – images by Isabella Verlarde.

Subtlety beneath the absurdism

It is of course Kira Mason’s script which provides the basis for these strong performances. The dialogue is rich without being overly verbose, giving the actors substantial material to chew on. While the premise is inherently absurd—a woman befriending the monster under her bed—Mason uses it as a Trojan horse to explore themes of social pressure and the desperate urge to “fit in.”

Crucially, the writing handles this with surprising subtlety. The play distracts the audience with Luna’s seemingly reasonable request—that a monster should not live under her bed—before gradually revealing the abundant good sense in Nix’s philosophy. Director Matthew Attwood understands this rhythm well, keeping the nightly discussions between the pair moving at a fair, unrushed pace. He allows the relationship to develop naturally, avoiding forced palliness or sudden unearned closeness.

The dialogue is rich without being overly verbose, giving the actors substantial material to chew on. While the premise is inherently absurd—a woman befriending the monster under her bed—Mason uses it as a Trojan horse…

Graphic glee without the jump scares

When Under The Bed pivots to horror, it does so with delightful ferocity. The show’s strands of body horror begin comedically—such as Luna beginning to shed her skin—but escalate rapidly. The introduction of an unseen “Surgeon” lurking in the depths of the Underbed triggers a sequence where Luna attempts to “undo” her transformation.

The production leans into this shift with graphic glee and plenty of screams, refreshing in a genre that often relies on lazy jump scares. The horror here is visceral and earned, born from the characters’ psychological stakes rather than cheap tricks. The abrupt departure from the show’s otherwise slightly psychadelic and playfully childish staging works particular wonders.

A conclusion that leaves the door ajar

The only area where the production stumbles is its conclusion. The ending aims for ambiguity but lands closer to feeling unfinished. One finds oneself in the odd position of wishing the play were ten minutes longer, simply to allow the narrative to touch down with more surety and clarity of purpose. The thematic threads are all present, but they aren’t quite tied off with the satisfaction the preceding drama deserves.

Despite this, Under The Bed remains an excellent piece of new writing, well-realized by solid casting and a director who instinctively grasps the material. It is a reminder that sometimes the healthiest place to be is in the dark, away from the inhuman expectations of the world above.

Under the Bed played at the Banshee Labyrinth as part of Edinburgh Horror Festival 2025. For more info on Not So Nice! click here.