Missing

Missing must surely be one of the most visually arresting shows at the Fringe. The design and use of the innovative set is near perfect, framing the performers as they flit between spoken theatre and visceral dance.

Starting out by delving into the past and insecurities of the shy and awkward middle-aged Lily, Missing opens up into a disjointed love story. It skips between locations, between languages and time periods, rewinds and fast forwards. The various diverse elements of the show overlap seamlessly, and composer Dave Price’s soundtrack underpins the production magnificently as it weaves together ethereal post-rock strings with flamenco and jarring fuzz at different points in the narrative.

There are snatches of conversations, windows into moments of desperate anguish and genuine happiness as the action darts around the disparate parts of Lily’s life and personality. The production’s refusal to ground itself in any specific place, time or language also serves to emphasise the universality of the main character’s thoughts and experience. There are no long monologues or explanations. Much of the action is rendered in half-memories and almost wordless encounters, shadowed by the spectre of the infant Lily—portrayed using puppetry—as she hovers at the edges of stage and of her adult self’s psyche.

Missing is technically accomplished on almost every level. It is neither a play featuring dance nor a dance performance with dialogue, but a brilliant combination of visual, musical and theatrical innovation and is a pleasure to watch unfold from start to finish.