- Lorna Irvine
- 13 August 2019
Harry Clayton-Wright schools the audience in carnal matters
Harry Clayton-Wright is a most genial host, serving cucumber sandwiches while his friends talk about rimming in audio clips. Sashaying in a charity shop wedding dress (which has its own story), the eccentric young sweetheart has a multitude of stories – some horrifying, some funny – about queer lived experience, and how he avoids intimate relationships. He's a natural clown, ruminating on the reason a rabbit gets a series of close-ups in a cheaply made porn film. 'What does it symbolise?' he ponders, his mouth full of cucumber.
But the main raison d'etre for Sex Education is to reconnect with his mother through shared stories about his errant playboy father, Chris, who has been absent most of Harry's life. The interviews with and open letter to Harry's lovely mum which book-end the show are incredibly candid, funny and moving, and although there's utter filth for much of the show, there's an ache and longing too, which is almost unbearably poignant.
Clayton-Wright mocks the tropes of performance art, with increasingly ridiculous choreography and costumes, while gently sending up his own tendency towards exhibitionism. And as the story of how his parents got together, it's remarkable and unflinchingly bizarre at times. Come, and come again.
Summerhall, until 25 Aug (not 19), 7.10 pm, £12 (£10).