Review: The Fit Prince (who gets switched on the square in the frosty castle the night before (insert public holiday here))
Yes, the title is a mouthful — and the show itself is just as gloriously over‑the‑top. Awkward Productions, the team behind Gwyneth Goes Skiing and Diana: The Untold and Untrue Story, return with a queer, chaotic, and heartfelt parody of the Christmas rom‑com genre.
The story unfolds in Swedonia- any resemblance to Sweden is purely coincidental. The King is dead, Prince Elian must marry before Christmas or lose the crown, and meanwhile in New York, baker Aaron Butcher is butchering his career. Naturally, the two collide, dislike each other, spend time together, and maybe fall in love — all in the compressed timeline of a holiday rom‑com. The plot is knowingly predictable, riffing on Hallmark, Netflix, and Lifetime tropes, but the humour is infused with panto energy and queer subversion.
From the very start, the audience is part of the action. A “dead king” and a “priest” are plucked from the crowd to open the show, setting the tone that no two nights will ever be the same. Later, the the priest struggled to read the cue screen without glasses and we all cheered him on. The actors adapted instantly, moving him closer and earning a roar of applause. Audience members donned sackcloths as orphans, became horses or even played an evil doppelganger. The spontaneous booing, cheering, and awwing added to the atmosphere, making the crowd feel like co‑conspirators in the comedy.
One of the show’s most riotous inventions is BAAB, a parody of ABBA, complete with wigs, sparkly dresses, and audience‑member musicians. Songs like Movement King (“You’re the movement king / You’re middle‑aged / You’re 53 / Still on stage”) and Dunkirk (a twist on Waterloo) had the audience swaying and singing along. Honestly, BAAB could sustain a show of its own.
With original music by Golden Globe–nominated songwriter Leland, the music throughout was a highlight. From Swedonia’s anthem – reprised with new lyrics as the action unfolded — to the big ballad about an orphanage sung by puppet witch Gerta McMurder (operated by Martin) the music added depth and hilarity.
Prince Elian (and puppet Jenny) is brought to life with flair by Linus Karp, while Joseph Martin doubles as Aaron and the puppeteer behind Gerta. Their sharp timing, playful chemistry, and knack for physical comedy keep the audience laughing throughout. The puppetry is inventive, riffing on the cliché of the villain who turns out to be sweet and caring; at one point Gerta leapt toward an audience member, prompting a startled scream before the room erupted in laughter.
The production revels in its cameos: Grammy‑nominated pop icon Tove Lo makes her theatrical debut as Swedonia’s Prime Minister. Malte Gårdinger, Kate Butch, Misia Butler, Joshua Whitehouse and Jeremy McClain pop up in prerecorded segments. Sebastian Croft (Heartstopper) appears onscreen as a handsome Prince and, on press night, was also cast from the audience as Elian’s doppelganger – hilariously forced to romance himself.
Beyond the laughs, The Fit Prince carries themes of LGBTQIA+ identity, anti‑fascism, and anti‑monarchy, wrapped in rom‑com parody. At just 70 minutes, the show is brisk, packed, and leaves cheeks sore from laughing.
Written by and starring Linus Karp and Joseph Martin (collectively known as Awkward Productions and now married after their landmark Fringe wedding earlier this year), the show is both a love letter to Karp’s native Sweden and a gleeful send‑up of heteronormative rom‑coms. Following its smash‑hit run at the 2025 Edinburgh Fringe, The Fit Prince has already earned critical acclaim, including a New York Times Critics’ Pick and a spot in Vogue’s “Top 10 Standout Acts.”
It took me a little while to get into it, but once I was, I was hooked. I haven’t seen Awkward Productions’ earlier shows, though I was told there were a few Easter eggs for those who have. The Fit Prince brims with originality, heart, and a wicked sense of humour. Another week, another show that left my cheeks aching from laughter — and I’d happily return for BAAB alone.
Performing until 3rd January 2026. Depending on the date the production is either 7pm or 9pm.
Address: The King’s Head, 116p Upper St, N1 1QP
Website: https://kingsheadtheatre.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kingsheadtheatre
Written by Caitlin Neal
