Alice Fishbein on Titanic, Chaos, and Comedy at the Edinburgh Fringe

London Theatre Doc
Jul 28
5 min read

Blue-clad person reading "Leo Still Dies in the End." Text: "London Theatre Doc Interviews... Alice Fishbein." Black background, teal splashes.

Alice Fishbein’s show isn’t just about Titanic, it’s about obsession, nostalgia, and one woman’s mission to relive a three-hour epic using only a spinning wheel and her imagination. In this interview, she talks about comedy, chaos, and why the iceberg is often the perfect place to start.

Let’s start at the core. What do you think Titanic has come to represent for you, beyond just nostalgia? Why did this obsession stay with you when others faded?

I once told a guy that I watch Titanic whenever I get a really upsetting rejection in the arts because it reminds me why I’m doing all of this, and yes, he found it weirdly endearing, but it’s true. Titanic has become my comfort watch because it was one of the first pieces of media I truly latched onto. I think that’s because it has always felt like watching theatre on a big screen. It was never just the story or the history or the actors that made me love it, but the entire production. It’s gorgeous and funny and heartbreaking, and that’s all because every element came together. James Horner especially came through with that ethereal score. It was also one of the first things that felt like it was mine as a little kid, probably because no other children I knew were watching a three-hour and fifteen-minute movie about a historical tragedy in which 1,500 people died due to a series of failures, including the refusal to value the lives of poorer people as equal to those of the rich.

What pushed this from a personal fixation into something you felt you had to perform publicly?

It just seemed like the best way to watch Titanic as much as possible.

In all honesty, I kept performing scenes from the film at parties for my friends, full solo reenactments on demand, so when I realised I wanted to create a solo comedy show, it just clicked that it had to be about a giant boat that doesn’t do what boats are supposed to do. Everyone has something they loved as a kid, and maybe some of us have taken that obsession a bit too far. But not me. My obsession is the perfect amount. Ask anyone, except my dad.

How does the spinning wheel keep the show alive for you as a performer night after night?

It keeps the show alive for both me and the audience. I have friends who have seen every preview of the show and still haven’t seen every scene, and even the ones they have seen change every time.

The wheel adds a touch of chaos to the show. It is never the same twice and that randomness brings in whimsy and surprise. There is nothing better than when the wheel lands on the iceberg scene right at the beginning. Other times it lands on the sex scene. There really is something for everyone.

This show is packed with nostalgia, chaos and comedy, but it clearly strikes an emotional chord too. How do you get laughs without losing the deeper feelings underneath?

This question really gets to the heart of comedy. Comedy is always based in truth, and for this show, the truth is that I genuinely love this ‘90s movie. I laugh at it, I laugh with it, but ultimately the show is a love letter. I was completely swept away by it at four years old, even though I wasn’t allowed to watch it until I was six. Holding on to that real affection underneath all the parody and chaos is what makes the show work.

Alice holding the spinning wheel — Image by Caeli Smith

How has your improv background shaped how you relate to the audience?

I could not do a show like this without the improv training I have had, and I am incredibly grateful for it. Every spontaneous line in the show started as an improvised moment during rehearsal or preview, and many of them still are.

I have definitely had moments where audience reactions made me break just a little. Once, during a certain death scene, there is a moment where I describe a frozen hand being clunked out of Rose’s, and someone in the audience audibly shouted “ARGH” while laughing. I looked right at them and nodded.

The show is personal and universal. There’s room for nostalgia, emotion, and a completely ridiculous amount of laughter. My director Ryan Lind is part of my improv group Princess Bleach, and our third teammate Kerry is joining us in Scotland to help with the show.

What part of creating the show felt the most creatively exciting to you?

At every rehearsal and show, I ask myself: how will I play the 2,200 souls aboard a sinking ship on a stage only a few metres wide? How do I make it clear who is speaking when there are five characters in a scene? And how much tongue will I show in the makeout scene? That last one thrills me the most, and the answer is as much as I can. Give the people what they want.

The most creatively exciting part was finding joy in scaling down a 200 million dollar movie to a tiny stage, one actor, and a very questionable transatlantic accent. It sounds perfect in my head, and that is what matters.

Alice in goggles and blue wrap — Image by Caeli Smith

Have audiences shared any unexpected connections after seeing the show?

So many people have come up to me afterwards saying they forgot how much they loved the movie or that they remember exactly how they felt seeing the boat appear on screen. I sprinkle in a few behind-the-scenes facts too, and people often go “I didn’t know that.”

I also hear what other people’s “I know it by heart” films were, and I love that. Maybe this show will inspire the next I Still Know All of I Still Know What You Did Last Summer or Saved in My Memory Private Ryan.

What kind of energy do you secretly love to get from a crowd?

One of my favourite moments is during the opening monologue, when I hear the audience realise what kind of show they’re in for. A few laughs, some giggling, then the first big joke hits. That’s when they get on board with the humour, and I absolutely love it.