Burns: Rough Cut

115270 original

Playwright Donald Smith’s rich monologue traces poet Robert Burns’ brief stay in Edinburgh in 1786-88. It’s a fictionalised account, described in the programme as "recreating Burns’ lost—or unwritten—diaries" that sees Scotland’s national bard entering a mysterious den of gambling and prostitution, encountering the infamous Deacon Brodie, and describing his liaisons with some of the city’s young women – in quite a bit of detail.

As a result of the invention, it’s hard not to take it all with quite a large pinch of salt. But Smith’s intention to rob Burns of his mythical status and present him instead as a raw and real person shines through. We feel like we’ve seen the man rather than the legend, although we’re still not sure how accurate a portrait it really is.

In any case, Gavin Paul is entirely convincing in a solid yet sensitive performance that ranges from pompous grandstanding to whining complaint. He conveys Burns as a real man, with real worries and real passions, and he’s unafraid to make us question Burns’ desires and uncertainties. The play’s final note, with the poet denied access to an illegimitate child he has fathered, only confirms the impression we’ve already formed of a man with doubtful morals but also needy insecurities.

It’s a bit strange, though, to open the show with a film of Paul delivering the monologue in locations around Edinburgh, and the transition to the live section could be smoother. All in all, it’s a speculative piece that we can’t trust to shed accurate new light on Burns, but a fine performance nonetheless.