My Friend, The Mountain ***

Cat Barrett pens and performs in this beautifully understated reflection on finding solace in the Scottish Highlands. It weaves through a pleasingly broad series of intersections, between family, self, nature and how these things are shaped and changed by the urban environments of late-stage capitalism. Following Skye, the play explores her time in the Cairngorms from early trips with her dad until a recent trip where her troubled mind clouds the area.

Skye is a sympathetic character: well-constructed and her relationships with friends, family and co-workers are all believable. Particularly touching is her early trip up the hills whilst with her father, beautifully characterised in a scene as much about remembering the sparks of your childhood as it is about establishing the splendour of the Cairngorms. 

Barrett's nature writing is inviting, towing the line between the descriptive and the poetic-philosophical beautifully. The environment shifts compellingly with the mood of the story. Nature is a fickle entity that changes from sun, trees and bright skies to rumblings, storms and winds. The invocation of Scottish writer and activist Nan Shepherd is nicely done and core to the play's argument. The writer penned much about the area in books including The Living Mountain and her thoughts find root in the characters contemporary moralities. 

The mood of the Cairngorms is starkly contrasted to the office life that takes up much of the play's discussion. The very real transition from graduating university to a struggling job market is acutely observed and the pains of that nicely documented. Central to the play is a slightly cartoonish office tiff between Skye and her supervisor that ends in tragedy. Said tragedy leads to what is a somewhat underbaked final act at the moment. The stakes are raised high and the nature made tempestuous to match. But the comedown from literal matters of life and death introduce a wise angel figure that remains a little too plausibly material. An incarnation of Nan Shepherd, for example, would seem a more natural coda, and whilst the material here does work, it does feel like there are other avenues to explore. 

But the nature writing makes this work. My Friend The Mountain is a warm, handsomely written solo show. Direction from Sarah Rose Graber makes the intimate Paint Room at Dundee Fringe a space where we imagine climbing mountains. Cath Barrett writes and performs with some charm, and this is a nice reflection of its pleasingly complex themes.