Lead Artist and Performed by Mamoru Iriguchi

Co-Directed & Co-Designed by Fergus Dunnet

Review by Dominic Corr

Traverse Theatre (Manipulate Run)

A strikingly unique and compelling theatrical curiosity unfolds in Glasgow as Vanishing Point presents Size Matters, a production that stretches its central metaphor across an hour of inventive puppetry, shifting scale, and philosophical musing, landing as a thoughtful yet uneven experience. What begins as a playful exploration of size and perception gradually deepens into a meditation on life, death, and the invisible forces that shape us, all framed through the idiosyncratic imagination of profoundly impressive and artistic visionary Mamoru Iriguchi, whose presence onstage anchors the piece with a quiet, inquisitive charm.

The story follows Mamoru and fellow performer Julia Darrouy as they navigate a world populated by puppet doubles of themselves, Sunshine and Tangerine, whose shifting proportions become the production’s emotional and conceptual engine. As the puppets grow, shrink, and evolve, the performers confront questions of identity, agency, and the inevitability of change. The narrative is loose by design, more a series of encounters and reflections than a traditional plot, but the thematic throughline remains clear. Life is presented as a continuum of transformations, each shift altering the way we see ourselves and the world around us, and the puppets become both mirrors and ghosts, embodiments of past and future selves.

The puppetry is the production’s greatest strength. Sunshine and Tangerine are beautifully crafted, their movements guided with precision by the ensemble, including Gavin Pringle as an enigmatic Narrator, whose dry humour and deft manipulation add texture to the unfolding story. The larger-scale puppets, introduced later in the piece, are particularly striking, their slow, deliberate gestures carrying a surprising emotional weight. The interplay between human and puppet is seamless, the performers moving with a fluidity that blurs the boundary between the animate and the constructed.

Visually, the production is a triumph. Fergus Dunnet and Iriguchi’s co-design transforms the space into a shifting landscape of proportions, a space where scale becomes a dramaturgical tool rather than a gimmick. Andrew Gannon’s lighting sculpts the environment with sensitivity, guiding the audience’s attention while enhancing the surreal atmosphere. The costuming, supervised by Faye Grant and Molly Richardson, supports the production’s thematic concerns, fabrics chosen for their movement and adaptability, allowing the performers to transition between roles and scales with ease – working with Suzi Cunningham’s movement direction, which is crucial, giving the piece its rhythmic backbone and ensuring that the physical storytelling remains coherent even when the narrative becomes abstract.

Yet for all its visual ingenuity, Size Matters struggles with pacing. The production’s meditative tone occasionally drifts into stagnation, scenes lingering beyond their emotional peak, diluting the impact of the central ideas. The language, too, can feel awkward, its poetic aspirations sometimes weighed down by repetition and a lack of tonal variation. Moments that should resonate instead dissipate, leaving the audience admiring the craft rather than feeling the intended emotional pull. It’s more frequent in the second act, where humour is a lot more rife, but too often collides with an awkward humour, rather than intentional.

Still, the company’s professionalism is undeniable. The technical execution is near-immaculate, the performers are committed, and the conceptual ambition is admirable. The production’s weaving of analogy, mortality, and the delicate art of puppeteering is sincere, even when the delivery falters. In the secluded space of The Citizens Theatre Studio, audiences are drawn in by the spectacle and the sincerity of the work, even as its structural weaknesses remain visible.

Size Matters stands as a visually arresting and intellectually curious piece that gestures toward profundity without fully grasping it. Vanishing Point continues to push the boundaries of theatrical form, and while this production may not reach the heights of Iriguchi’s strongest work, it offers moments of genuine beauty and a reminder of the power of scale, movement, and imagination in contemporary theatre – a boldness sorely lacking from most other creatives.

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