If you reviewed your own show, how would you describe it?
It’s a darkly comic, highly physical piece of theatre with elements of farce. It’s fast-paced and energetic, but also creates space for moments of genuine vulnerability and reflection. I hope audiences leave feeling both thoroughly entertained and slightly unsettled – laughing one moment, then questioning why they were laughing the next. The lighting and sound design play a huge role in creating the world of the piece, transforming a simple stage into the fractured landscape of the character’s mind. It’s funny, tense, surprising and, at times, deeply uncomfortable. Above all, it’s a story about the human need to be seen and what can happen when that need goes unmet. It’s dark, very funny, and slightly dangerous.
Tell me a little more about your show and what audiences can expect?
Diary of a Mad Man is a darkly comic one-man drama tracing the psychological collapse of a corporate worker whose craving for status gradually mutates into obsession. Adapted from Nikolai Gogol’s 1835 short story and relocated to contemporary Ireland, the play replaces the original diary entries with social media posts, where the pursuit of validation and virality fuels an increasingly disturbing descent into paranoia. Set within a mental health institution, the production combines physical theatre, audience interaction and an immersive soundscape to place audiences inside the protagonist’s unraveling mind. The more erratic his behaviour becomes, the more entertained those around him appear, mirroring our own appetite for spectacle in the digital age. At its heart, the play explores loneliness, ambition, identity and society’s failure to adequately support people experiencing mental illness. It’s a story that feels deeply personal to me, informed by my own experience supporting a family member through a mental health crisis and witnessing how easily vulnerable people can slip through the cracks.
Can you talk about some of the creative team involved?
I’ve been incredibly fortunate to work with an outstanding creative team. Writer Derek Masterson has been a fantastic collaborator. He works incredibly quickly, instinctively understands my voice, while constantly challenging and strengthening the material. This project has also become the foundation of a much broader creative partnership, with several film projects already in development together. Designer Iris Liang has created the show’s lighting and sound. While her background is primarily in lighting, the sound design has evolved into a major storytelling element, creating atmosphere and seamlessly connecting the psychological shifts throughout the piece. Costume designer Mado Chadebec immediately understood the visual language I was aiming for and elevated it through her own creative ideas. I always want collaborators to feel genuine artistic ownership over their work. Finally, dramaturg Dermot Davis provided exceptional script notes throughout development. His insight helped shape the final version we’re bringing to Edinburgh.
Where do you draw inspiration from for your work, both in terms of creation and performance?
Almost everything I make begins with life. I’m fascinated by human behaviour and constantly trying to understand why people think, feel and act the way they do. Beyond personal experience, I’m endlessly inspired by music, cinema, television, literature and visual art. I listen to music every day, read constantly and love visiting galleries whenever I can. Galleries in Dublin are free, so it’s so easy just to pop in to look at even just one piece of art, or one exhibition. Which I often do. Seeing great artists take risks reminds me why I do this work in the first place. Ultimately, I’m interested in telling stories that connect emotionally with audiences. If people leave feeling they’ve recognised something truthful about themselves or the world around them, then I’ve done my job.
Looking at this production, how would you say it links to previous work personally and thematically?
Many of the themes in Diary of a Mad Man have run throughout my work as an actor, writer and filmmaker. I’m continually drawn to stories about identity, ambition, loneliness and the fragile boundary between reality and imagination. This production asks questions I’ve explored before: How do we construct identities when life doesn’t turn out as we’d hoped? What happens when someone’s inner life becomes more compelling than the external world? And can we still empathise with people society dismisses as “mad”? The themes feel especially relevant today. Mental health, isolation, toxic ambition, workplace dehumanisation and social comparison have become defining features of modern life. At its heart, the play is about the fragility of the human mind and how easily any of us might begin to unravel under enough pressure. Sadly, that’s as relevant now as it was when Gogol first wrote it.
Why is this an important story to tell?
This story feels more relevant now than ever. We live in a culture where so much of our identity is shaped by work, achievement and online validation. It’s increasingly easy to feel invisible, overlooked or disconnected. Rather than presenting our main character as simply “mad,” this adaptation asks audiences to look beyond the label and consider the loneliness that lies beneath it. It asks who gets listened to, who gets ignored, and what happens when someone feels they no longer exist in the eyes of the world. On a personal level, this production is also a tribute to my first acting teacher, Tim McDonnell, whose celebrated performance of a version of this play had a profound impact on me. He won an OBIE for that performance. Bringing this adaptation to Edinburgh feels like a way of honouring the person who first showed me what great theatre could be.
What would you like audiences to take away from seeing this production at the Fringe?
We all have a duty to protect the vulnerable rather than simply consume their suffering. Whether that’s on a global scale – thinking about the suffering in Gaza or anywhere people are experiencing injustice – or on a personal level by checking in on a friend who might be struggling, I hope audiences leave wanting to look after each other a little more. Ultimately, the message is simple: protect the world, and protect each other.
Do you tend to take inspiration from events happening in the world around you in terms of your work? Do you think artists have a responsibility to respond to what’s happening?
Absolutely! I’ve always believed that artists hold up a mirror to society. Our job isn’t necessarily to provide answers, but to ask difficult questions and encourage empathy. If art can inspire people to think differently – or even act differently – then it has enormous value. That idea runs through everything I do, whether it’s this play or my short film Horseback, which is having its Irish premiere at the Galway Film Fleadh. It tells the story of a young Palestinian boy rebuilding his life in Ireland after losing his mother, and like Diary of a Mad Man, it’s ultimately about compassion, identity and belonging. I never want to be preachy, but I do hope my work encourages audiences to care a little more deeply about the world around them.
What do you do to relax in August?
Edinburgh in August is wonderfully chaotic, so I try to find small pockets of calm wherever I can. I spend a lot of time in the gym, meditate regularly and love getting out for walks around the city. Being outdoors helps me reset. Coffee and books. I’m also a voracious reader – I usually have six or seven books on the go at once, depending on my mood. And I love sitting in a cafe watching the world go by. And, of course, I’ll be watching as much theatre as possible while I’m at the Fringe. I also have a long list of films I’m trying to work my way through.
How do you feel about the current arts landscape in your country and your part in it? Does it excite you and inspire you to keep pushing the boat out?
I’m optimistic, and that’s just my nature. Ireland has an incredibly rich artistic tradition and continues to produce world-class writers, actors, filmmakers and theatre-makers. We really punch above our weight. There’s a huge amount of talent here, and organisations that support artists through grants and development opportunities play a vital role in making ambitious work possible. At the same time, it’s never been easy to make a living as an artist, so I think we have to keep creating opportunities for ourselves as well as supporting one another. That’s something I’ve always tried to do – whether through theatre, film or collaboration with other artists. It’s an exciting time creatively, and I feel fortunate to be contributing to that landscape.
Why are arts festivals such as the Fringe so important for international exchange?
The world can feel really divided at times, but stories have a way of cutting through all that. They remind us that, wherever we’re from, we all want the same things – we want to be seen, understood and connected. The Fringe creates space for that to happen, and I think that’s something really worth celebrating.
Have you got your eye on any other shows that are part of the programme?
I’m really looking forward to seeing Mr. Bergmann of Deadman’s Point by Ronan Dempsey. He’s a really exciting artist who creates thoughtful, visually inventive work with a fascinating use of movement and sound. I’m also keen to catch Krapp’s Last Tape at Assembly, and Adam Riches: The Captain sounds like great fun.
What’s next for you and how are you feeling about the future in general?
I’d love to take Diary of a Mad Man to London and New York after Edinburgh. It’s a very portable production, and I think its themes resonate far beyond Ireland. Alongside that, a short film (Horseback) I directed is premiering at the Oscar qualifying Galway Film Fleadh on Saturday 11th July, which I’m incredibly excited about. I also have another short (Father) continuing its festival run and a feature film adaptation of my previous play that’s due to shoot later this year or early next year with a director based in Los Angeles. There’s a lot happening, which is exciting. I try not to think too far ahead – I just want to keep making work that challenges me and hopefully connects with audiences.
How can Edinburgh audiences keep up with you beyond the festival?
You can also find me on Instagram (@santaponza,), Facebook (@santaponza,), on Substack (@markmcauleyfilm), and through my website, where I’ll be posting news about future productions, film projects and upcoming performances. I’d love to stay connected with anyone who enjoys the show, and I always appreciate hearing people’s thoughts after they’ve seen it.
Anything else?
The Fringe is such a creatively fulfilling hotbed. Everywhere you turn there are artists taking risks and making exciting work. There’s an energy to the city during August that’s unlike anywhere else in the world. Getting to spend a month doing what you love around thousands of other passionate artists is an absolute gift.
Diary of a Mad Man, Assembly Roxy, 5-31 Aug (not 18), 1.20pm