War of the Worlds is Uproot Theatre’s new adaptation of HG Wells’ 1897 sci-fi classic, which focuses on the experiences of an unnamed narrator who witnesses a Martian landing.  After becoming separated from his wife, he catalogues the horror and devastation of the subsequent invasion.  It’s a big story to tell in the confines of a Fringe production – but by concentrating on the rationally-minded narrator and his interactions with an artilleryman and curate, Uproot’s version successfully considers the differing human reactions to an overwhelming threat.

This one-man show is performed by Jamie Roberston, an actor from whom we’ve come to expect excellence following his recent Treasure Island and Around the World in 80 Days.  Based on past form, I was expecting him to leap energetically into a multitude of different characters – but this is a very different style of show. The mood is sombre, and Roberston eloquently conveys the confusion of a rational man who witnesses great horrors – sees his world literally destroyed – yet is determined to analyse what is happening and determine the best methods of survival.  Robertson shows incredible control in capturing the protagonist’s panic and fear, while constantly wresting back reasoned thought to apply scientific principles to his predicament.

All the time, too, he’s recording the immensity of the cataclysm, evoking other characters such as the artilleryman or the curate without leaving his role as the narrator.  There is variety in the performance, though: there are changes in emphasis between philosophic reverie and direct engagement with the audience, using a gesture or a stamp of a foot to subtly signal the change of tack. Robertson keeps the audience captivated for an hour, speaking for almost the entire time with barely a stumble. It is a handsome achievement.

The quality of the acting allows the story to remain compelling.  Uproot deserve praise for their adaptation; though occasionally heavy on narrative, the elements they have chosen to emphasize produce a coherent vision, raising deeper issues about human reactions.  The curate, initially acclaiming the end of days, goes mad when he realises that it’s not his God that has wrought this carnage – while the artilleryman’s ambition is undermined by his love of the luxuries he has looted. The narrator treads the fine line between realism and idealism, settling on humankind’s greatest attribute: hope.

The production highlights, too, how Wells’ description of the Martians’ weaponry prefigures nuclear and chemical warfare. The technical effects employed are an object lesson for small scale theatre; there are very simple lighting changes towards the end, and the sound effects, which are atmospheric and ominous, are used sparingly and effectively. The combination delivers maximum impact with minimum risk of error.

All in all, Uproot Theatre have yet another hit on their hands. It’s an impressive addition to their portfolio, and further proof of Jamie Robertson’s ability and versatility.