Written and Directed by Zinnie Harris

Traverse 2 at Traverse Theatre

Fresh from a departure as the Lyceum Theatre’s Associate Artistic Director, the world premiere of Zinnie Harris’ Supposing marks a resolute statement for contemporary Scottish drama. And though we may fall down the rabbit-hole – following a protagonist who tumbles into a literal pit only to emerge hearing future predictions – it sets itself firmly within a realistic realm, planting itself very much at the forefront of contemporary politics.

We’ve seen award-winning Nicole Cooper in the role of a tragic Greek icon before, in Medea for Bard in the Botanics, but now it’s come full circle, as Harris’ Supposing presents a new, part-Greek heroine: Sally. Skirting the near edges of the kitchen-sink genre, conversing with the audience while grappling with terrifying premonitions of far-right hostility and neighbourhood malice, she transforms extraordinary visionary burdens into grounded, domestic agony.

Cooper does a tremendous job in balancing a multitude of voices for Sally: her own, the surrounding characters, Sally’s husband Rich (a nuanced, charismatic and fallible performance from Richard Conlon), and most notably, the ultimate trope of the Grecian Chorus. Conlon grounds this dynamic as the former Labour candidate whose principled past has curdled into comfortable inertia, now working with the council. But to add the layer, and challenge, Cooper has the unenviable task of conversing with the audience about the unfolding theatrical dimensions, and does so with subtle (and unsubtle) brilliance.

From ancient Greece to now; one thing, certainly, has never changed: women being believed. Harris has written this in an accessible, clever way. Whether it’s the GP, the partner, the neighbour, or the stranger, the act of trusting Sally becomes an uphill struggle, easily brushed off as hormonal imbalance rather than true insight. But the production, whether a blessing or a curse, never thunders into those Grecian roots of a classical text’s ‘intensity’, something Harris dutifully incorporates, and somewhat lampoons; Cooper wilfully delivering blistering lines on this string of marvellous, if intensive, women in theatrical history, and noting that if her curse had been gifted to a man, this would likely have been nothing short of a gift.

Deceptively thin, Alisa Kalyanova’s set and costume design mirrors this tension between the everyday and the extraordinary. A simple white circle dominates the space, punctuated only by the barest scenic elements. And, just like the rest of the show, the small nuances of mismatched chairs, a few oranges, and a reduced sticker on a loaf of bread all play into these microcosmic decisions which make Supposing a masterpiece of subtle, effective theatre, but with *big* emotions. Though one impromptu dance-music sequence certainly makes sure colour makes an appearance amid the stark surroundings.

So, do we fight the encroaching future? Or do we accept it? Do we see that the wave of fascism is (horrifically) inevitable, and await the period of healing afterwards, or do we start stamping on frogs? Maybe we start looking at those neighbours we hate; yes, even the bigots, and attempt to see past the blinded eyes we have, and make one final, desperate scramble at defying the fates; well, that’s up to you, I suppose. And that’s Supposing summed; misleading, elusively, even coyly so. Leading to an insightfully crafted and marvellously performed piece.

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