A witty, down-to-earth, and enjoyable production, brought to life by fiercely likeable characters and a distinctly Scottish sense of humour
Scottish playwright John McKay’s renowned comedy, which originally premiered in 1988, is back at its birthplace, Edinburgh’s Traverse Theatre, for a strictly limited run until November 4th. Directed by Liz Carruthers, the much-loved play follows Alexander “Eck” Dundee, a young, Scottish aspiring BBC producer trying to make his way in the hip cultural scene of the 80’s, as he is plagued by the ghostly reincarnation of his long-dead father on the day of an important job interview and big date.
Angus Miller is dynamic and charming as Eck. He plays his character with an endearing awkwardness that I’m sure many audience members will find relatable, navigates the different facets of Eck’s personality well, and is convincing and funny in his line delivery. But for me, the standout performance came from Liam Brennan as Eck’s father William “Wullie” Dundee. From the second he steps onstage, straight-faced, and thoroughly underwhelmed about his being a ghost, remarking that heaven is “fine,” he is hilarious. His terrible dad jokes, random everyday musings about cheese and football, and tendency to just butt into conversations with little self-awareness and even less tact, make him the father/grandfather figure we all recognise from our own lives, and love.
However, it’s worth noting that neither character would have gotten all of the laughs that they did without the interactions, set up’s and reactions of the other. Miller and Brennan bounce off of each other superbly, and use their palpable chemistry, great energy, and skilful physical comedy to not only bring their characters to life, but also to make a simple set design and minimal props feel like a fully conceived world. Aside from the actors, the only other things present on stage are a single chair, and a backdrop on which words periodically appear, and yet the stage never feels empty; the mark of fantastic performers who can effortlessly carry a story without relying on anything elaborate.
It is refreshing to see a play centred exclusively on a father-son relationship, and nice to see closeness and emotion normalised within it. There are subtly touching moments where a young Eck is comforted by his father and they bond over songs they used to sing together, allowing the timeless and universal themes of family, masculinity, and acceptance to poignantly underpin the story. A deeper exploration of grief and how Eck reacted to and dealt with the loss of his father at the time could have added more layers and resonance, and a more concrete explanation behind Wullie’s return could have made the ending slightly more satisfying, but despite this, the show is still immensely funny, endearing and a more than worthwhile watch.
Complete with a nostalgic 80’s playlist (curated to perfection by sound designer Julian Starr) featuring hits from Simple Minds, the Eurythmics and Soft Cell, and “Earth, wind & fire meets Sydney Devine” fashion choices, McKay’s play is an undeniable product of its era, but in the best possible way, and it does manage to stand the test of time. Overall, Dead Dad Dog is a witty, down-to-earth (apart from the whole ghost thing), and enjoyable production, brought to life by fiercely likeable characters and a distinctly Scottish sense of humour. I thoroughly recommend going to see it if you have the chance!