Meet Fred

Fred is a bunraku puppet who's absolutely miserable. He hates being at the mercy of his three handlers. He hates his life, where he's forced to try to live alongside humans three times his size. And most of all, he hates the fact that he's in a show.

His utter misery makes for plenty of moments of offbeat tragi-comedy – like a walk home in the rain after a disastrous blind date, pelted with rice and foam by a revolving desk fan. But there's a seriousness to it, too: at the job centre, he's assigned jobs he patently can't do, like being a swimming instructor or furniture mover. And turning them down means losing his puppeteers, and hence his independence.

It's hard not to see the analogies with the way disabled people are treated – themes ingeniously emphasised by the presence of disabled stage manager Martin Vick, who's patronised and told which jobs he can and can't do.

But these points are muddied by the devised piece's sprawling structure and unsophisticated narrative. Its humour is sour, rather than sharp, and it badly loses its way in the final sequence. What Meet Fred does well, though, is to convey the emotional complexities of being dependent – and the need for support, with no strings attached.