The Tailor of Inverness

One-handed theatre can sometimes exude a certain elegance - a single actor or actress carrying an entire performance, aided only by a bit technical support or musical backing - conjuring a palpable frailty. It can therefore be something special to witness such a challenge being met, and resulting in a graceful performance. The Tailor of Inverness, now a Fringe regular, is one such example of excellent execution.

Matthew Zajac is on a journey to explore his father’s past, from his native Poland before the war, through the Soviet Union and even the Wehrmacht, before finally settling in Glasgow. Little can be proved about the exact road he had to take. In communicating his journey, Zajac’s performance is nothing less than sterling. Completely in control of the myriad of accents and languages, he lends The Tailor a distinct credence and identity.

A concern of one-handed shows is that they can leave the audience behind as they swap between characters, leaving onlookers guessing. Zajac, however, guides us through his father’s and his own experiences in such a careful way that even stories from the Second World War are free from any imitative feel.

Despite this impressive performance, when the show creeps past the sixty-minute mark, momentum starts to peter out. However, this is a rare blemish in an otherwise wonderful play.