Solpadeine is my Boyfriend[author-post-rating] (3/5 stars)

Solpadeine is an over-the-counter painkiller, comprised of codeine, paracetamol and caffeine. It’s also the most constant presence in Stefanie’s life. Moving from Cork to Dublin in search of work and an elusive “better” life, Stefanie Preissner (who wrote and performs the piece) draws us into an Ireland where all the young people are emigrating – moving first to the cities and then to Australia, in search of sun and satisfaction. Stefanie doesn’t want to move. She doesn’t want anything to change at all, and as her friends from Cork drift away and her friends in Dublin move on, she clings to Solpadeine like a comfort blanket.

Except that it isn’t. An addiction to painkillers can’t solve her problems, as it gradually emerges that Stefanie is deeply, hauntingly depressed, too – a metaphorical dog follows her around, and she takes the Solpadeine to mute its barking. It’s a compelling, though unoriginal, metaphor for depression, and what Preissner and director Gina Moxley do well is show the effects that mental illness has on those around Stefanie: her boyfriend Stephen tries his best to be supportive, but as Stefanie hides her pills and struggles to seek help, he finds it “too hard to stop us both from drowning”.

Preissner’s script tries to wrap this all up in an exploration of the “fight or flight” response, suggesting that those of us who don’t flee (in a literal or metaphorical sense) need to find better ways of fighting. This is illustrated by a rather laboured use of a punch bag and boxing gloves, which works sporadically. The piece is at its best when it’s just Stefanie trying to explain what’s going on in her head – “If one more person offers me St John’s wort I’ll shoot them”. It’s good when it explores what it means to be “home”, and to feel the pull of the old and familiar counterbalanced with the lure of the new and potentially better. It’s weaker when it tries to open this up to look at youth unemployment and other big contemporary issues.

“Pain is an alarm,” Preissner tells us. “It’s a way of trying to get the body to distance itself from the source of the pain.” This is more difficult of course when the pain is inside, and the piece makes its points with delicacy. Solpadeine is my Boyfriend is a poignant and interesting look at mental illness and addiction, but some moments of clumsy staging and a preachy tone towards the end let it down slightly.

Solpadeine is My Boyfriend is at Underbelly Bristo Square until 26 August. For more information and tickets visit the Edinburgh Fringe website.