Peep has the dubious draw of being the only show on the Fringe where the audience can spy on the actors entirely unseen by them.
Having filed into the private darkened booths of a large, black, PVC-covered box in the Pleasance Courtyard, ticket-holders put on a pair of headphones, draw up a stool and settle in to watch as a sex drama unfolds in a poky bedroom on the other side of their window.
The peep shows on offer are in fact three 20-minute playlets tackling peccadilloes (69), pornography (Meat) and postpartum angst (SexLife), written by rising stars of the Royal Court Young Writers' Programme (Kefi Chadwick and Leo Butler) and the Traverse (Pamela Carter).
The three plays can be watched individually, but taken as a trio they create a fertile, heady blend of ideas, which flip notions of gender, power games and voyeurism on their head. How does having children affect the workings of a relationship? Can a porn film stand up to deconstruction from the female point of view?
Too often, though, the cast feel like mouthpieces posing these questions rather than flesh-and-blood humans. Still, if the idea is to make audiences feel a little seedy, the better to make them ponder the ins and outs of sexual politics, then it offers some satisfaction.
To 26 August, not 17 (0131 556 6550)