The Dahlia Files is an important production, here’s why – a review

This ‘true crime meets cabaret’ Fringe production is making audiences question their morality

True crime is more than just a genre now; it’s a cultural phenomenon. Podcasts top charts, documentaries win awards, and streaming services build entire empires on it. There’s a strange, magnetic pull to stories of murder, disappearance, and deceit. Maybe it’s curiosity. Maybe it’s a psychological need to understand danger. Or perhaps it’s simply voyeurism dressed as analysis. Whatever the motivation, The Dahlia Files doesn’t just entertain, it interrogates our fascination with crime. It asks the vital question:Who owns the right to retell these stories – and at what cost?

An intimate and human retelling

Performed at the homely and welcoming Lantern Theatre, The Dahlia Files delivers an incredibly intimate experience. The production feels almost confessional, as if you’re hearing the inner voice of someone long silenced. This is largely due to the captivating presence of Trystan Youngjohn. As both the writer and sole performer, her passion for the story is evident.

A one-woman performance, the play centres on Elizabeth Short, better known in media lore as “The Black Dahlia.” But rather than focusing on her murder, the narrative delves into her life: her complex relationships, her dreams, her love of travel, and her quest for independence in a male-dominated world. Youngjohn’s performance gives Elizabeth humanity, nuance, and voice. Something that has often been stripped away by years of salacious headlines and fictionalised retellings.

The space and staging support the intimacy. With the audience close enough to make eye contact, you are drawn into Elizabeth’s world, almost made complicit in how her story has been used and misused. At several points, the audience is directly addressed, prompted to reflect on their own role in the true crime economy -not just as viewers or readers, but as people making moral choices about what stories we consume and how we talk about the dead.

Read more : The Man Who Was Thursday Review 

Where true crime meets cabaret

Despite the heavy subject matter, the production never feels bleak. In fact, it’s unexpectedly funny, often laugh-out-loud funny. The cabaret-style elements bring a unique and necessary levity to the show. These comedic moments serve a purpose beyond entertainment: they highlight the absurdity of media sensationalism and society’s appetite for gore.

One particularly memorable scene involves a camp reenactment of the media frenzy that surrounded Elizabeth Short’s murder. It’s over-the-top, chaotic, and jarringly effective. By pushing the absurd to the extreme, Youngjohn cleverly exposes how journalists and true crime creators often exploit trauma for ratings or clicks. Another moment, when an audience member is invited to play Operation, feels playfully ridiculous but drives home a deeper point: how easily we disassociate from real human suffering when it’s framed as entertainment.

These tonal shifts from solemn to satirical,are handled with remarkable precision. It’s a difficult balance to strike, but The Dahlia Files pulls it off, making the moments of reflection even more impactful.

Reclaiming Elizabeth Short

What makes this production stand out is its commitment to centring Elizabeth Short’s humanity. This is not a murder mystery, nor a sensationalist reenactment. Instead, it’s a reclamation. Youngjohn refuses to reduce Elizabeth to the gruesome details of her death, something most media depictions have done repeatedly. Instead, she restores her identity as a daughter, a friend, and a woman navigating a difficult world.

This ethos reflects the values of the production company behind the show – Hey Thanks Theatre Collective, a queer and female-led group committed to amplifying underrepresented voices. Their work focuses on reframing stories that have historically been told through a patriarchal or exploitative lens. Here, that mission is realized with both sensitivity and strength.

Why this work matters

We are living in the golden age of true crime, but it’s not without cost. Crime scene photos are readily available online. Fictional retellings often include graphic violence for shock value. Victims’ choices, clothing, and lifestyles are scrutinised and speculated on. There is a growing concern, and rightly so, that these stories are often more about titillation than truth, more about profit than people.

The Dahlia Files stands in direct opposition to that trend. It asks us to reconsider the stories we tell,and how we tell them. By focusing on Elizabeth Short’s life rather than her death, and by examining the media frenzy with a critical, comedic lens, the production forces us to confront the ethics of true crime entertainment.

This isn’t just good theatre, it’s important theatre. It sets a new standard for how we can talk about the victims of violence: with respect, with humanity, and with a keen awareness of our own complicity.

To see more from the Hey, Thanks! Theatre Collective click here