Devotion

It seems to be a promising start when the audience are handed glasses of champagne, showered with compliments and each personally welcomed to the performance on the way in to see Devotion. Yet this is also the first indication that this show might be a just a little bit unusual.

Describing itself as “a commentary on our secular, vain and corporate ridden society,” Devotion comprises of a series of short scenes acted out by two choruses—one male and one female—following the lives of three couples through dating, marriage and the births of their children. Encompassing song, dance and an abundance of surreal visual aids, Devotion purports to be a message about the evils of consumerism and popular culture.

The audience can only imagine why the chosen purveyor of this message is an eccentric French troubadour playing an accordion, yet his witty and sardonic lyrics are the highlight of this self-consciously off-the-wall bonanza.

There certainly isn’t a spare moment during the performance to get distracted: the scenes change rapidly and the enthusiastic cast employ a range of bizarre guerrilla theatre tactics. Interesting use is also made of the play’s unusual setting in the gardens of Greenside church. Frequently, however, Devotion seems to be trying much too hard to be wacky.

Whilst Devotion is out-of-the-ordinary enough to keep the audience engaged until the end, it falls flat as a meaningful social critique: most of the audience seemed to leave the show in a state of confusion. I ended up taking a detour to Princes Street for some retail therapy on the way home.