APHRODI-TIM, subtitled The Divine Yet Slippery Art of Loving Yourself, stars Timothy Fraser. Why do I say “stars”? Because of all the shows I’ve ever seen with the premise of self-revelation and the accompanying vulnerability, most would pale in comparison.

Fraser gives an exhaustive dramatic account of his search for love and succeeds in riveting his audience at the Fringe Bar with an extraordinary honesty coupled with humour and a variety of theatrical ploys.

He appears in a white toga in front of a low bench style altar and tells us about a candle he got given as a child. A clever use of metaphor sets us up for what follows: he’s done everything he can think of but he’s in despair and having a crisis. He needs help and thinks he can get it – from Aphrodite, the goddess of love. He’s nearly 30, the clock’s ticking and, in short, he wants a boyfriend. Will his prayers be answered?

But there’s work to be done. Body building’s first. Oh, and a visit to his mother, the first of three, for help and advice – a hilarious high point of the show. Then there’s a phone call – is this Aphrodite at work? Our man hopes so, and the subsequent encounter, disappointing though the outcome, demonstrates Fraser’s novel use of the theatre’s space. There’s more to follow.

The ticking clock precedes a dramatic change of costume as an alluringly attired Fraser involves audience members. We’re with him all the way but to no avail. A surprise appearance from Aphrodite is supposed to come to the rescue but its form – absurd to say the least – only increases our friend’s desperation.

He hates rituals but maybe affirmations will work? They’re his last resort … And something he has heard but not heeded from three different sources finally makes sense, as does the show’s subtitle. Though I hesitate to call what I’ve seen a ‘show’. It’s too true to life, too honest, too true to pain and vulnerability.

Top marks to Fraser for such a gift, as well as to director Emma Rattenbury and lighting designer Anna Larcom.

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