Richard Fry’s Bully generated a lot of press at last year’s festival, as well as winding up on the short-list for the Amnesty International Award. I can’t help thinking it is the harrowing subject matter – the almost unfeasibly depressing experiences of a young homosexual man growing up under an abusive father’s iron fists – rather than the actual production, that provoked such admiration. This is a solid one-man show, but as the tragedies pile up, Fry’s rhyming verse begins to grate and his performance starts to dry up, as he runs out of useful ways to express this poor lad’s misery.

The entire show is peppered with rhyming couplets – no mean feat in itself – and is more performance poetry than play. The play tracks chronologically through this ill-fated man’s life and the cute rhymes work well initially, lending a nursery-rhyme feel to the narrator’s description of his childhood. However, as the play progresses into darker and more complicated terrain, the rhyming couplets start to feel out of place. The desire to rhyme supersedes all other concerns – such as authenticity and eloquence - and forces the script into increasingly awkward and unlikely positions.

Furthermore, the constant use of rhyming couplets also prevents the character on-stage from growing up. Although the play covers this man’s life from beginning to end, starting with his violent-infused youth and culminating with his lonely adulthood, the constant sing-song delivery makes it hard to appreciate this transition. So although the plot progresses, Fry’s character never quite catches up and he is left narrating adult experiences from what feels like a child’s perspective.

Fry is a sound actor but not a sensational one – it feels like he is always hovering above his character, commenting on his life rather than really recreating it. He is not helped by the static script, which captures him in a constant state of innocence. This play is meant to be about the drip-drip effect of a violent upbringing – the impossibility of breaking this chain of abuse – but Fry feels like the same person throughout and, despite a few violent outbursts near the play’s close, fails to capture his character’s sad transition from a frightened and sensitive child into an angry and conflicted young man.

12.45 till 31 August 2009