Due to an administrative error, two one-person shows, both called Vertigo, have been booked into the same slot at Bedlam. Fortunately for all concerned, the performers are content to muddle through and make the best of it, putting on their shows simultaneously.

She is doing a play about trying to recreate the euphoria she once felt at the age of 14. He is doing a “think piece” on the dangers of existence. What the two shows become when played side-by-side, however, is a beautiful reflection on growing up and the absurdities of life. 

The two sets of stories – from 'fishing' in flowerbeds and falling off first bikes to dying of heartache and jumping out of planes – are cleverly interlinked, with the actors playing off each other's experiences in a way that feels utterly natural. The show is performed as if each performance is the first, the pair working around each other to pursue their own narratives and frequently being called upon to help each other out, with often hilarious results. The aesthetic and tone of Vertigo is deliberately ramshackle and charming with it, the actors getting the audience on side and keeping them there from the very first moment of the show.

It's not often that I find myself laughing through tears in the theatre, but this is exactly what Vertigo caused me to do. This unlikely little show is one of the loveliest pieces of theatre you're likely to see this Fringe. It's only on until next weekend. Don't miss it, whatever you do.