list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL THEATRE

MISTERMAN Virtuoso account of religious obsession ●●●●● THE SOFT SUBJECT (A LOVE STORY) Lessons in love from a former teacher ●●●●●

A man stands alone in his grimy, makeshift home, conversing endlessly with voices from the reel- to-reel tape recorders that surround him. This is Thomas Magill, self-proclaimed prophet of Inishfree, returning again and again to his secretly recorded conversations with the sinners of his small Irish town, whose failings he mercilessly notes, and whom he intends to force back to the ways of God. But when he encounters an angel, he sees hope for his own tormented soul.

Thomas Campbell gives a virtuoso performance in this hard-hitting production of Enda Walsh’s 1999 solo play, and its themes of religious obsession justifying the most horrific of acts couldn’t be more relevant today. He’s a lithe, nervy performer, darting restlessly around the stage, yet there’s a dark visionary hypnotism to his portrayal, too.

The climax might be inevitable, and predictable

from Thomas’s violent early actions, but it’s no less shocking for that. Kate Gaul’s direction feels a little breathless at times, as if more space might have allowed the horror of Thomas’s utterances to sink in more deeply. But this is a gripping, finely crafted show that crackles with dark energy. (David Kettle) C primo, until 28 Aug, 3.45pm, £9.50–£11.50 (£7.50–£9.50).

The Soft Subject is billed as a love story, but who the lovers are isn’t quite as clear as it might seem. This autobiographical one-man show by former high school drama teacher Chris Woodley tracks a blossoming relationship with his partner Kevin. Woodley is keen to bring his background as a teacher into his performance, and structures the show in the style of a lesson plan. His love for his craft, both as educator and performer, is obvious. He’s an instantly likeable man who wants the audience to learn the lessons he has to teach.

Though Woodley’s tale has tragedy, he is also keen

to ensure there is laughter. His sense of humour is occasionally self-deprecating and always self-aware. Crucially though, it’s a consistently gentle humour, never mean spirited. Even when he is the butt of his own joke, there’s a warmth that permeates his performance. Woodley’s tale is deeply personal. As such, a few

storytelling blips in the latter half of the hour obscure the audience’s understanding, leaving us like a struggling pupil fighting to catch up, before his confidence and passion for energetic 90s pop sends us home with contented smiles. (Liam Hainey) Assembly Hall, until 28 Aug, 4.25 pm, £14.50– £15.50 (£13.50–£14.50).

TUMBLE TUCK One-woman show about sport and confidence ●●●●●

It may have been the damp walls of Underbelly Cowgate, but the space was filled with the appropriate and familiar scent of a swimming pool.

Tumble Tuck, written and performed by Sarah Milton, explores the relationship between sport, confidence and mental health. Specifically it follows Daisy who takes up swimming as a form of therapy after her boyfriend is imprisoned for murder.

Swimming is a savvy choice for these themes, forcing us into environments we’re not built to operate in and exposing our bodies to scrutiny in a way that few other activities do.

Milton’s performance uses this vulnerability

well. Daisy is shy as she moves around openly discussing how her size makes her feel awkward in her own body. Milton really excels as she simulates her time in the pool, with an awkward, practised, sort of grace that makes her exertions plain. These are the strongest moments and the further the action gets from the pool the weaker it becomes. However, at its best, this is an inspiring story about a young woman tapping into unknown reserves to overcome her fears. (Liam Hainey) Underbelly Cowgate, until 27 Aug, 1.30pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).

BORDERS A strong argument for real journalism ●●●●●

Writer and producer Henry Naylor had a considerable pedigree as a comedy-writer for television even before his trilogy of plays on the war on terror (The Collector, Echoes and Angel). His satire has become increasingly hard as his subjects have become more serious. His latest play Borders reflects the split in his work; as a satire of how the media trivialise the effects of global warfare, it’s bluntly obvious. But Naylor’s research into the plight of Syrian refugees is more powerfully written, and this aspect soars.

Borders is a two-hander with Avital Lvova playing an unnamed graffiti-artist using her art to protest the Assad regime in Syria. Her story is told in parallel, with only one point in common, with that of a western photo-journalist Sebastian Nightingale, played by Graham O’Mara. Frustrated by his inability to sell pictures, Nightingale takes a chance assignment to photograph a pre-9/11 Osama Bin Laden, which launches a wasteful career photographing pop stars.

Directed by Michael Cabot, Borders is well performed,

particularly by Lvova, who deservedly got a standing ovation for her intense evocation of a woman increasingly trapped by circumstances. But the Nightingale section of the play, accusing the media of not bothering to cover human tragedies when celebrity tittle-tattle is available, is rather ham-fisted and one-note.

The irony is that Borders does the difficult things well; the satire of GMTV and Sport Aid needed a lighter touch, but ultimately doesn’t take away from the raw power of the Syrian story, and the meaning created by the juxtaposition. In the fake news era, journalism seems to be coming back into fashion; Naylor’s play argues strongly why real journalism is still needed. (Eddie Harrison) Gilded Balloon Teviot, until 28 Aug, 4.30pm, £11.50–£12.50 (£10.50–£11.50).

17–28 Aug 2017 THE LIST FESTIVAL 89

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