Clad in a shiny, deep purple onesie with a black circle emblazoned with ‘The Void’ on her tummy, Romanian clown Edith Alibec resembles some slimline, dark matter Teletubby. Presenting as a faintly alien figure suffering a deep malaise, Alibec reaches out, literally, with elongated sleeves, to the audience for various ways they fill out their own voids. It’s a show that hinges on the responses from the audience – the very willingess to respond, in fact – and it skirts around the edges of genuine melancholy before its inherent playfulness thankfully shines through.

This evening sees Edith inviting a very encouraging lady to be her friend and to help fill the void with trashy, Italian pop, a reading from The Ethical Stripper, which one lady happens to have in her bag, and an attempt to find solace in love that sees Alibec and her ‘partner’ making orgasmic noises in the darkened room. There are also several moments where the responses are a little mundane to do much with, or where the person asked is too reticent to be worth the effort. Alibec heroically skips past these issues, but it paints these moments of stalement between performer and audience in stark relief against the genuine highlights. And when it works, it really works, Alibec remaining an endearing, indefatigable, and dextrous presence throughout.

In an interview with us, Alibec said she first immersed herself in the world of clowning in 2023/24. What she’s achieved in that space of time is genuinely impressive, but there is still a sense she’s yet to find a persona that’s distinctly hers. ‘The Void’ is often very reminiscent of Julia Masli’s acclaimed ‘ha ha ha ha ha ha ha‘ in its yearning for connection and its deeply optimistic trust in the audience to achieve a spirit of communal healing. A high bar to emulate for sure, and Edith’s stage persona is at least wildly different from Masli’s otherwordliness; more theatrically needy, almost desperate for approval.

There are also some slight technical issues, albeit ones that should be easy to remedy. The show’s emotional, existential crescendo gets slightly drowned out by the ominous ambient pulse that provides the backbeat. At one point it seems that Alibec asks the audience to give a reprise of the noises from their own voids she requested early. The background music swallows the plea and no response is given. Not that Edith seems deflated. What she demonstrates in spades is the ability to work with the ebb and flow of a show’s own individual rhythms, along with the confidence to pull it all together.

While noone will be surprised at the conclusion drawn at the end of the show, it is a satisfying and heartfelt piece of clowning, with the melancholy streak ultimately making its playfulness all the more uplifting. After less than a handful of years as a clown – although she a much longer span of acting experience behind her – ‘The Void’ is something pretty amazing, with Edith Alibec showing a real faith in her nascent abilities. Its slight issues don’t detract from the fact that this is a void you won’t mind gazing back at you.

‘The Void‘ is at Cinema Room at PBH’s Free Fringe @ Banshee Labyrinth until Sun 30 Aug 2026