The Hotel

If Punchdrunk, the fashionable London site-specific theatre company, gave the job of artistic director to Arthur Smith, the comedic genius behind the Fringe’s Arturart exhibitions, the results would look a lot like The Hotel. Throw in a touch of Fawlty Towers and the sly wit of Mark Watson – the show’s writer, director and troubled health and safety inspector – and you have a piece of gloriously bonkers immersive theatre in which the audience play the guests at an establishment famed for picking up the highly commended award for best integration of TV in lounge or games room in 1991.

In a madcap hour, you make your own way through a New Town house, speed-eating cream crackers in the dining room, breaking athletic records in the wellbeing room, overseeing a job interview in the board room and playing on the computers in the business suite. En route, you stumble across mind-readers, masseurs, cabaret entertainers and officious staff, all the while aware that something even more batty is likely to be happening elsewhere in the building. It’s daft, delirious and exactly what the Fringe was made for.

Assembly Rooms, 623 3030, until 31 Aug (not 17), 4.15pm, £10.50–£13 (£9–£10).