Based on the Book by Amy Liptrot
Written by Stef Smith
Directed by Vicky Featherstone
Review by Dominic Corr
Church Hill Theatre: Tickets
With not one but two premiere performances (one, a UK premiere as the opening feature of the Edinburgh International Film Festival), Amy Liptrott's The Outrun has become the buzz of the festival season. And for good reason, the 2016 memoir about returning home to the Scottish Islands of Orkney and coming to terms with their alcohol abuse finds itself on the shelves alongside some keynote contemporary pieces on Scotland's nature writing.
An ideal complement to the sparser stylings of Liptrot's memoir, Stef Smith's adaptation retreats exposition into the landscape. Much of the 'telling' of the show is either projected lyrically, in the score, or through Vicki Featherstone's direction. Featherstone's direction is particularly noteworthy as it channels visual and soundscape to the forefront of the lengthy ninety-minute one-act production, guiding audiences on a journey from the Northern point of the isles to London via Edinburgh.
But the momentum and scale imparted into Milla Clarke'sset works haven't translated to the storytelling fundamentals, delivering a production which, while ambitious, feels rigid as the stone and granite, rather than a necessary emotional elasticity and enticement; all ensnared with Lewis den Hertog's video imagery which dominates the stage. It's unyielding, but unlike the rock face of the Island, it's artificial and essentially hollow – a reflection of the emptiness inside of those hungering for 'more' or an echo of the modernity encircling the natural, or just an attempt to fling as much as possible to distract – is entirely the audience's call.
Isis Hainsworth's central performance, known only as the Woman, is not just engaging but also often poignant. Her role does much to elevate Liptrot's memoir to necessary heights and freshness. Smith's interpretation of the memoir's addiction and eventual recovery serves as a perfect backdrop for Hainsworth's performance, which transitions from energetic to desperate, never leaving the stage in a staggering feat. The additional ensemble, skittering between side roles, boyfriends, pals, drunken revellers and recovering addicts, are all well handled and utilised. Paul Brennen's Father, more reserved and not stereotyped, delivers a memorable performance that quietens the storms of Luke Sutherland's composition.
The Outrun presents an updated variation of the immovable object proverb, Balancing two colossuses: an ancient terrain and a contemporary woman. This juxtaposition should create a grand and epic aura, but instead, it feels deflated: a stalemate. The production is visually breathtaking and inventive, capturing the savagery and sanctuary of the primal lands of Scotland in a more contemporary, healing manner than the tourist route. The stripped-back sentimentality makes for a refreshing change of pace, but it also leaves a coldness to the entire affair, accentuating the stark contrast between the two elements.
Review by Dominic Corr (contact@corrblimey.uk)
Editor for Corr Blimey, and a freelance critic for Scottish publications, Dominic has been writing freelance for several established and respected publications such as BBC Radio Scotland, The List, The Skinny, Edinburgh Festival Magazine, The Reviews Hub, In Their Own League, and The Wee Review. As of 2023, he is a member of the Critic's Award for Theatre Scotland (CATS) and a member of the UK Film Critics.
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