Julie

The National Theatre of Scotland returns to the themes of class and gender, as explored in Elizabeth Gordon Quinn earlier this year, with a new adaptation of August Strindberg's Miss Julie, written and directed by Zinnie Harris.

Like the anti-heroine of Chris Hannan's play, Miss Julie sabotages every opportunity she has to gain the audience's sympathy, unwilling to surrender the powerful status of her birth. But while the former dominates the play of her name, barely giving other characters room to breathe, the latter is just one of three characters in a perfectly balanced and brilliantly orchestrated battle for supremacy.

Harris's Julie is set in Central Scotland between the wars, amid a strike that threatens to upset the existing order. On midsummer's eve, while striking mill workers are dancing their troubles away, securely-employed servants John and Christine work, flirt, and gossip about the boss's daughter.

When she breezes in from the dance, Julie demands that John - her father's manservant - partner her for the rest of the evening, setting in motion a series of events that will prove to have devastating consequences.

Julie is a lady by title but in reality a coarse-tongued madam, raised as a tomboy then starved of affection as an adult. It is through movement, as much as language, that Harris conveys the class divide. The servants stand to attention when Julie arrives, and add that elusive 'Miss' to her name - at least for a while.

A judicious scattering of coarse language peppers Harris' script, which is at turns shocking and comic. It may seem like a trivial complaint but Julie's muttering of 'bullshit' jars slightly - if anything it feels like a rather limp expletive amongst a sea of charlatans and scoundrels.

Andy Clark is excellent as the unknowable John, whose ambitions extend far beyond the boundaries of the estate, and Georgina Sowerby brings similar depth to the Christine, whose stoical exterior masks a shrewd, hard-hearted intelligence.

Samantha Young's upright Julie is similarly enigmatic - switching seamlessly from imperious bullying to wide-eyed hysteria and always just a sob away from sympathy before a brutal comment corrects the balance.

No doubt the acoustics will vary from venue to venue on this tour, but at North Edinburgh Arts a few whispered lines were lost. The in-the-round staging makes for an intimate experience, but a little more projection is still required.

All in all, though, these are minor quibbles about this captivating production of a superbly crafted adaptation.