If you’re in the mood for festive silliness, which in the UK usually means panto, but without easy access to children, fear not. Awkward Productions has delivered the perfect adult-friendly alternative. Following the cult success of Gwyneth Goes Skiing, the company returns with The Fit Prince, a deliriously camp parody of festive rom-coms that swaps alpine legal drama for royal nonsense. The result is a December dose of queer theatrical chaos that’s both hilarious and heartwarming, filling the room with joy from start to finish.
Written and performed by Linus Karp and Joseph Martin, The Fit Prince gleefully disrupts everything we think we know about holiday romance, wearing its parody proudly, complete with excess, sparkle, and absurdity.
The premise is deliciously familiar: a fictional European kingdom, a ticking royal deadline, a reluctant outsider flown in at the eleventh hour, and a prince whose emotional repression is matched only by his sculpted jawline. None of this is subtle—and that’s exactly the point. The show thrives on exaggeration, repetition, and the audience’s total familiarity with the genre it lovingly skewers.
Where Gwyneth Goes Skiing felt sharp and confrontational, The Fit Prince is pure silliness, perfectly suited to the season. The satire here is broad and affectionate, poking fun at the rom-com formula rather than celebrity culture or legal absurdities, inviting audiences to laugh at predictability rather than recoil from it.
Audience participation is encouraged and joyfully embraced. Many crowd members are called on stage, reading cue cards and becoming part of the action. They are never the butt of the joke; instead, they enhance the collective sense of ridiculousness. This communal chaos is central to the experience, making the show feel inclusive, lively, and utterly engaging.
At its heart, the story follows a humble baker meeting a fit prince, exploring and dismantling heteronormative clichés of traditional romantic comedies. Set in Swedonia, a glitter-soaked queer utopia, queerness exists without conflict, allowing romance to flourish unapologetically.
Joseph Martin shines as Aaron Butcher, a New York baker struggling to keep his family business afloat. He travels to Swedonia to bake the cake for Prince Elian’s wedding. Linus Karp’s Prince Elian must marry before Christmas to inherit the throne. Both performances are charming, swinging effortlessly between heartfelt sincerity, lightning-fast ad-libs, and interactive audience moments.
Special mention goes to Assistant Stage Manager Ciara Pidgeon, whose supporting appearances add delight and texture throughout the show. Watching this love story unfold amid relentless camp, theatrical absurdity, and unapologetic queer joy is a pleasure, reminding us how inclusive, silly, and life-affirming theatre can be.
It’s almost impossible to leave without a grin. The Fit Prince may lack the razor-sharp satire of its predecessor, but it more than compensates with exuberance, inclusivity, and love for the genre it lampoons. A festive, knowingly ridiculous romp, unapologetically queer and joyfully interactive, it’s less pointed, more playful, and gloriously silly, a perfect antidote to the new year.
