This week, Durham has come alive with theatre. With performers, critics and volunteers weaving through the city centre, and coffee shops, university departments and even nightclubs transforming into theatrical venues as more than one hundred productions grace the city. There is an unmistakable electricity to Fringe week, and few productions embody that spirit more completely than The Last Days of Trump (A Liberal Fantasy). 

Fringe has long been the home of parody. Every summer welcomes another absurd wave of satirical theatre, from multiple competing productions about Gwyneth Paltrow’s ski trial to the cult success of One Man Musical and the gloriously camp royal reimaginings of Diana: The Untold and Untrue Story. The Last Days of Trump sits comfortably within that tradition, embracing political satire with remarkable confidence while never losing sight of its audience. 

Set in 2028, the play imagines the final days of President Donald J. Trump following another US election. White House intern-turned-Chief of Staff Morgan Vaughn finds herself with one impossible task: keep the increasingly unpredictable President occupied long enough to prevent an international incident. Her solution? Convince Trump to build the greatest presidential library in history – one devoid of books, upon Trump’s request. Naturally, events spiral spectacularly out of control, eventually culminating in a demise so ridiculous that it is difficult to imagine a more fitting conclusion. 

The production’s greatest triumph lies unquestionably in Eoin Carney’s script. Clever political satire is notoriously difficult to sustain; too often, jokes become little more than impressions or headlines transplanted onto a stage. Carney instead demonstrates an impressive understanding not only of American politics but of political absurdity itself. Every joke feels earned, layered with enough contextual awareness to reward those immersed in contemporary politics without alienating audiences less familiar with the intricacies of Washington. 

The humour comes in abundance. Some jokes are delightfully intelligent, others gloriously juvenile, and many manage to be both simultaneously. A discussion surrounding the possibility of war descending almost immediately into the distinction between a trade war, a tariff war and simply “bang bang war, bang bang” perfectly encapsulates the show’s comic voice: utterly ridiculous, yet rooted in just enough realism to feel plausible. Elsewhere, Trump’s insistence that an announcement would arrive “in very due course… the duest of courses” is precisely the sort of linguistic nonsense that feels unnervingly authentic. 

Perhaps even more impressive is the writing surrounding Trump rather than the writing for him. In this production (as no doubt in real life), the White House staff have become so thoroughly desensitised to presidential chaos that the extraordinary is treated as little more than administrative inconvenience. Morgan’s matter-of-fact explanation that the President “threatened to nuke Sweden at lunchtime” before calmly concluding that he was “probably just hungry” is delivered with such complete sincerity that the audience scarcely has time to recover before the next gag arrives. It is this deadpan normalisation of absurdity that gives the comedy its greatest strength. 

Remarkably, the plot itself almost becomes secondary. There is more than enough narrative momentum to carry the audience from beginning to end, yet the real driving force of the production is the writing. Rather than relying upon dramatic twists, the show succeeds because every exchange is an opportunity for another exquisitely crafted joke, each building upon the last with impressive consistency. 

Of course, scripts this sharp demand performers capable of matching their pace, and this cast rises magnificently to the challenge. Carly McCann leads the production with a wonderfully measured performance as Morgan Vaughn. Permanently balancing on the edge of complete exasperation, McCann captures the impossible task of attempting to maintain order within an administration built entirely upon delusion. Particularly impressive is the subtle way McCann adjusts her demeanour depending upon whom she is speaking to; diplomatic with General Reese, increasingly bewildered alongside Carla Heart, and desperately restrained in every interaction with the President. It is a performance built upon nuance rather than exaggeration, providing the perfect anchor around whom the surrounding absurdity can flourish. 

Caitlin McWethy’s Carla Heart enjoys one of the production’s most satisfying character arcs. Beginning life as an unassuming manuscript preservationist before finding herself propelled towards the Vice Presidency, McWethy charts the transformation with infectious comic energy while never sacrificing the character’s underlying sincerity. It is a beautifully judged performance that repeatedly catches audiences off guard. 

John Smeathers likewise excels as General Reese, demonstrating impressive versatility throughout. Whether delivering military briefings, engaging in wonderfully understated comic exchanges or throwing himself into increasingly chaotic situations, Smeathers possesses an effortless command of both the production’s dramatic and comic registers. 

Then there is Connor Cunningham’s Donald Trump, which was simply astonishing. Long before the play formally begins, Cunningham is already inhabiting the role, greeting audience members as they enter the Music Department – commenting that my Coke Zero “wasn’t American enough.” From that moment onwards, the illusion never slips. His vocal impression is uncannily accurate, but what truly elevates the performance is his physical characterisation. The familiar stance, the wandering attention span, the exaggerated gestures and the peculiar rhythm of Trump’s speech are recreated with forensic precision without ever descending into caricature for caricature’s sake. Rather than merely impersonating Trump, Cunningham creates a performance that feels simultaneously familiar, unsettling and irresistibly funny. 

Carney’s direction proves equally assured. Every comic beat lands with meticulous precision, testament to an acute understanding of rhythm and timing. The commitment to character extends beyond dialogue into movement, physicality and interaction, ensuring every performer inhabits their role completely. Comedy so often lives or dies by timing, and here every pause, interruption and glance feels carefully calibrated. 

The production’s design embraces the Fringe philosophy that less can often achieve more. The Music Department is transformed into a convincing White House through remarkably economical means: a military-style tent serving as improvised wings, a handful of chairs, strategically positioned American flags and even the venue’s resident piano somehow combine into a space that feels entirely appropriate for the increasingly surreal action unfolding before it. It never distracts, yet consistently reinforces the production’s comic world. 

Costuming follows the same philosophy. Trump’s unmistakable navy suit, oversized red tie and ever-present MAGA cap instantly establish the character, while Morgan’s sharp tailoring and General Reese’s military attire immediately communicate status and authority. Nothing feels excessive; every costume serves the comedy through instant visual recognition. 

The Last Days of Trump exemplifies precisely what Fringe theatre does best. It is bold enough to tackle contemporary politics, intelligent enough to avoid becoming little more than topical sketch comedy, and, above all else, relentlessly funny. Eoin Carney has crafted a script overflowing with wit, supported by a cast whose impeccable comic timing ensures scarcely a line goes without reward. As Durham Fringe gives way to Edinburgh, this feels exactly the sort of production audiences flock to the Fringe hoping to discover. 

Catch The Last Days of Trump at the Edinburgh Fringe from 5–16 August before it transfers to Camden Fringe from 23–25 August. If laughter truly is the best form of political commentary, then this production is campaigning for a landslide victory. Get your tickets here.

Image credit – The Last Days of Trump via @trumplastdays on Instagram.