Traverse Love Stories

While You Lie 
My Romantic History 
The Girl in the Yellow Dress 

Love is in the air at the Traverse this year, as Scotland's premier new writing theatre hosts three brand new productions all focusing on the complexity and imperfection of romantic relationships. However, Valentines' Day rom-com mush this line-up most certainly is not.

Given top billing as the Trav's flagship production, While You Lie has been attracting a lot of attention. Written by the exciting young playwright Sam Holcroft and directed by the award-winning Zinnie Harris, it tells the story of two young (or youngish) urban couples battling to stay together under the oppressive blanket of economic instability.

Unfortunately, While You Lie never quite seems to know what it's trying to say. What begins as an attempt to explore the idea of honesty in relationships—from assessing the impact of truthfully answering the question "does my bum look big in this" to the psychological harm caused by infidelity—lurches clumsily into an exploration of capitalist and sexual exploitation. It then morphs into a sort of quasi-Greek classic, when each of the characters are implored to choose between a path of charity or of selfishness by a sinister, otherworldly doctor. While not short of ideas, While You Lie seems to get bored and abandon its various narrative strands long before reaching anything near a satisfactory conclusion. 

Its greatest flaw, though, is in its nauseating ending, which is gratuitous without any artistic compulsion. The horror of the gory, violently sexual crescendo completely overshadows the supposedly sensitive reconciliation between Holcroft's two young protagonists. There are some notable performances, in particular Claire Lams as the sexy-yet-vulnerable secretary Ana however the play is simply too weak to be anything beyond a disappointment.

Much more successful is My Romantic History, a charming and irreverent comedy about accidental romance. Set in a nondescript Scottish office, two not-quite-so-young-anymore colleagues embark on an affair that neither of them particularly wants. Told alternatively from the perspectives of both the male and female leads, it is an exploration of the importance of our first teenage loves, of our excessively high expectations of others, and of how two people can read the same situation very, very differently.

What makes this production so thoroughly enjoyable are the two perfectly weighted comic performances from Alison O'Donnell and Iain Robertson. Scottish viewers of a certain age will remember Robertson slurring the line "Sarah, I really fancy you. So how about it?" in the infamous early-noughties Health Education Board of Scotland's TV advertisement, a credential to which D.C. Jackson makes cheeky reference in his nicely observed script. Robertson's character, Tom, is both the relatable everyman and the contemptible, insensitive jerk. O'Donnell's Amy is alternately strong-willed and independent, and clingy and insecure. Much time is spent deciding who to side with before My Romantic History finally comes to its satisfying, if a little predictable, conclusion. It is a play that is simultaneously funny yet sensitive and also pleasingly reassuring.

If My Romantic History is concerned with an absence of chemistry, The Girl in the Yellow Dress is characterised by its electric presence. Set in Paris, the production is dominated by the sexual tension between Pierre (Nat Ramabulana), a French-Congolese student of English tutor Celia (Marianne Oldham). He is a refugee of a country in the grip of civil war, she is looking to escape the social pressures of Middle England.

The Girl in the Yellow Dress is reflective of the best traditions of French romantic cinema: it's sexy, it's challenging, it's smart and there's a strong incestuous undercurrent running below the surface. But it's not entirely satisfying. The ending feels too tidy given the complexity of Pierre and Celia's relationship, while attempts to deal with questions of race feels too underdeveloped to be thematic and too explicit to be allegorical. It does, however, feature two brilliant performances: Ramabulana perfectly captures the deep complexity of a character trying to find his place in the world. Oldham is worthy of special praise: her portrayal of Celia's metamorphosis from the sassy, sexy and confident urbanite she first appears to be into the damaged, vulnerable woman of reality is quite spectacular.