To deliver an affecting piece of theatre is an impressive achievement. To do it without words and with props not much more sophisticated than a sheet of plastic and the contents of a suitcase is just stunning.
There are all sorts of productions during the Fringe and part of its enduring appeal is that you never quite know what you will find. However, there can be few shows like The Lamplighter's Lament.
We are met on the shore of a small seaside town by a trio of Victorian gentleman to witness their tale of the lamplighter - a sleepwalker and man of few words - and his daughter.
Donning top hats over unruly, storm swept hair they set off to start the lamplighter's round, throwing beads of light to ignite the streetlamps above and cast pools of radiance in the dark.
All three actors play the lamplighter, seen as snapshots at different points in his long walk to bring light to the waiting world. He seems not to tire of his seemingly endless task, but returning home he is haunted by dreams of his lost daughter and in sleep he is pulled by the siren call of the sea.
It is billed at being suitable for anyone, ages 5 to 105, but it is perhaps too whimsical for a young audience. Not that I want them to change that, but without words you need to be able to interpret the series of images to build them into a story, which at its heart is about his coming to terms with his grief and receiving the blessing of his daughter to move on.
The production uses a merging of puppetry and physical theatre and the actors demonstrate great skill in magically bringing the work to life. They dexterously palm and juggle the embers of light and animate the marionette of his daughter with touching anima.
The original music by Philippa Herrick gives it a cinematic quality. It would benefit from a strengthened narrative, from ensuring that the lighting exposes all the detail and from refinements the lamplighter puppet and boat. Developed by the company over a short period, this is its world premiere and I am sure that it will develop and grow.
I shed tears at the sheer beauty of it. Simply beautiful.
Times: 10-29 August, 5.20pm.