Beautiful, sometimes sombre, sometimes playful physical theatre from Theatre Re, Blind Man’s Song is the fragmented memory of a brief love affair recalled in the dream of a lonely blind man. From first meeting to parting, the merry-go-round of romance is related through twisted limbs and a haunting score by Alex Judd.
The two figures conjured by the blind man’s memories are veiled like figures from Magritte paintings – plus there’s a bowler hat thrown in to complete the Belgian surrealist vibe. With the aid of an iron frame bedstead which doubles as transport, hiding place and occasional actual resting place, the journey of their love is told.
There’s an element of old-fashioned magic show about this piece as, using the bedframe and the upright piano onstage, the performers disappear and reappear with all the structural illogic of a dreamscape.
For all its creativity and quality Blind Man’s Song, isn’t a work of immense depth. It’s a simple love story performed by a talented company who clearly care about what they do. Each element of the show does its work and it’s certainly the sum, if not more, of its parts.
Unlike a lot of physical theatre you might see at the Fringe you’re likely to walk away from Blind Man’s Song entertained and charmed rather than baffled and confused.