Written by Nathan Scott-Dunn

Directed by Nathan Scott-Dunn and Sands Stirling

Jolly. Cuddly. Big boned. Husky. Beefy. Plump. Chubby. Fat.

Human.

At the butt of the gag, there’s a pervading bitterness that being ‘fat’ is one of the last realms of jokes where it’s okay to take a jab at someone, especially in the playground years.

MANikin, the newest production from Saltire Sky Theatre Company follows wee (well, no, that wee) Fraser’s journey through the early grievances of childhood teasing to traumatic high-school bullying and the harshness of mood swings and poor health of an adult life for those overweight and obese. There’s a slow drip to Nathan Scott-Dunn’s writing, but only in the positive. The pedestrian and everyday nature of Fraser’s antics help solidify with the audience just how authentic the story is and forge a quick connection with the crowd who solo performer Josh Brock shares a very intimate space within the Leith Arches performance room.

It makes up his bedroom, his mother’s washing line, the school changing rooms, and even an oil rig with relative ease – all aided in being visualised by the outfit changes propped up by the mannequins in the four corners of the stage. Scott-Dunn and Sands Stirling’s direction is tightly executed, drawing out the naturally raw and powerful performance Brock provides and channelling it into this script which coaxes out all shades of life: the happy and heartbreaking.

It’s initially a lightning-fast script of jokes and a warmth emanating from Brock’s Fraser as their relationship with their well-meaning mother. The final fifteen minutes of the show are a sucker-punch departure from the comedy – but that’s how life rolls. And in short, it’s a magnificently raw, and at times even difficult production to watch. It’s gut-wrenchingly authentic and powerful, which tackles the stigma of obesity with little to no remorse and bridges the gap between discrimination and the harsh reality.

While Scott-Dunn’s writing is crucial, it hinges on Brock’s intensely unrestrained performance, who absolutely nails the tone of the piece – ranging from the earlier comedic scenes with physical humour and childlike gags and japery, to the intensive anxieties and aggressive outburst of self-hatred, grief, and self-consciousness. In moments it’s uneasy to look towards Brock given how intimately personal it all feels – but equally, with such a compelling performance, it becomes impossible not to meet his eyes. It’s a thunderingly emphatic one-person performance, easily one of, if not the, best of the Fringe.

And though some of the audio effects could do with being toned down, a couple even removed, there is still a sharpness behind most of their inclusion as unpleasant snapbacks to reality, or the inescapable use of Meat Loaf songs as a persistent framing of Fraser’s life.

Working alongside Obesity UK, the authenticity of MANikin is never in question. This is for those who still tug at the front of their shirts – for those who, when sitting, put the ‘strategic’ pillow in front of their stomach. For those who were the first into the changing room, and the last out. And yet, Scott-Dunn’s gorgeously perceptive writing means that MANikin is for anyone who has felt unloved, or difficult to love, anyone who struggles with the body they have and the life they lead. A stirring, powerful one-man show that deserves to be seen by as many as you can (legally) cram into the Leith Arches: absolutely marvellous theatre.