Arthur is a painter, but he’s got painter’s block, if that’s a thing. He can’t quite get anything to work and he can’t see anything through. Inspired by Icarus from an old book of childhood stories, he finds his muse and flies into a manic whirl of painting, ignoring his girlfriend and his family.

One of the works he is neglecting is a commission from his brother for a painting of climbing hero, Felice Benuzzi, who while trapped in a World War II prison camp vows to climb Mount Kenya. Alongside Icarus’ flight for freedom from the horrors of Crete and the Minotaur, the script intertwines these stories with Arthur’s own. Both have different things to say about Arthur’s declining mental health and strategies for overcoming his problems.

Jack Fairey is a fine storyteller, engaging our attention in the diverse narrative strands, handling the transitions with aplomb aided by good sound and lighting choices. There’s some great use of a few stage props, especially a rickety old ladder which can be mountain or undergrowth.

There is never any mixing up whose story we are in, but all three characters are imprisoned and anxious in their own way, and come across as overwrought. Tonally the play needs more light and shade. Fairey is more than capable of this; when portraying Arthur’s stolid brother Ethan he brings a welcome change of mood.

Melding three different stories is ambitious. The role of each of Icarus and Felice’s stories to Arthur’s narrative is a little too obvious, so their contribution to the denouement is telegraphed. But that doesn’t make the ending any less touching, and Fairey’s play is interesting exploration of mental health, ambition and responses to failure.

The Sun, the Mountain, and Me is at Underbelly, Cowgate – Big Belly until Sun 25 Aug 2024 (except Mon 12) at 12:20