Written and Performed by Matthew Zajac
Directed by Ben Harrison
Review by Dominic Corr
There are some shows, no matter how often they appear on a Scottish stage, that are special every time. Crafting a deeply autobiographical account of a parent’s hidden history is a delicate theatrical tightrope, but Matthew Zajac’s sixteen-year-old production has traversed that line with a profound, enduring resonance. Returning to stages following the publication of a new edition of the script, The Tailor of Inverness documents Zajac’s father, Mateusz, and his dizzying flight across shifting European borders during the Second World War. What initially appears as a straightforward, linear recount of exile – spanning from the Galician village of Hnilowody through Russia, Uzbekistan, the Middle East, Italy, Maryhill before eventually settling in the Scottish Highlands – gradually unravels into a complex detective story as Zajac steps out of character to interrogate the fictions his father spun to survive.
Zajac delivers an immensely energetic, comfortably familiar, central performance. He effortlessly transitions between the avuncular charm of his father’s Polish-Scots lilt and the grounded sincerity of his own modern-day inquiries. Directed by Ben Harrison, the piece is anchored within Ali Maclaurin’s simple yet evocative textile-based set, featuring walls that resemble papier-mâché fabric and a rail of coats that smartly symbolise discarded identities, while also doubling for train journeys, bunkers, and hide-holes. This visual landscape is immeasurably elevated by an original violin score – composed by Jonny Hardie and Gavin Marwick – performed live on stage by Marwick. Operating almost as an omniscient character, Marwick’s evocative melodies inject vital momentum into the play’s more static stretches and beautifully capture the shifting cultural tones of Mateusz’s journey.
The production’s ambition occasionally falters beneath the sheer volume of geographical data it attempts to process. Certain sequences, relentlessly tracking dates, relations, and military movements across projected maps, risk reducing this richly emotional territory to a somewhat dry genealogical presentation. These digital projections act as a jarring, rectangular intrusion into the play’s otherwise tactile, analogue aesthetic, are an effective and necessary tool for translating multilingual dialogue.
Despite this structural unevenness and pacing lulls, the overarching narrative achieves moments of transcendent beauty when probing the human cost of conflict. The non-linear structure of the “second act,” rapidly alternating between a son’s desperate search for truth and a father’s fraught need to conceal his past, proves utterly gripping. By peeling back the layers of one man’s survival instincts, The Tailor of Inverness transcends a singular family tree to become a deeply affecting, troublingly timely reflection on migration, displacement, and the devastating scars left by redrawn borders. It is a welcome return for those familiar, and not to be missed for new audiences; how we envy those seeing it for the very first time.
Uttery Gripping
The Tailor of Inverness runs at The Lyceum Theatre until 8th September, then tours Scotland
Running time: Eighty minutes without interval
Photo credit – Tim Morozzo
Review by Dominic Corr (contact@corrblimey.uk)
Editor of Corr Blimey, and a freelance critic for Scottish publications, Dominic has been writing freelance for several established and respected outlets such as BBC Radio Scotland, The List, The Scotsman, Edinburgh Festival Magazine, The Reviews Hub, In Their Own League, The Wee Review and Edinburgh Guide. As of 2023, he is a member of the Critic’s Award for Theatre Scotland (CATS) and a member of the UK Film Critics.
