Author: Claire McArthur

REVIEW: Piece of Work

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Talented and thought provoking storytelling  

“What a piece of work is a man!” is a quote from Act 2 of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and so it is fitting that this is the middle play of a storytelling trilogy. “Piece of Work” is part of James Rowland’s “Songs of the Heart” trilogy, along with “Learning to Fly” and “James Rowland Dies at the End of the Show”. 

Directed by Johnathan Humphreys, and taking place on a sparse stage in the Traverse Theatre, “Piece of Work” tells the story of James creating a new show, prompted by an invite from someone from his past. Across several location in the North of England, from the small village of Burton in Lonsdale, to major cities, such as Manchester. 

Barefoot and pyjama-clad, and with the help of just a few maps, James takes us through his past, whilst tussling with family dynamics, prospect of losing someone to suicide, and, many references to Hamlet. His relationship with his brother Chris is central to this – who came into his life as a baby, when James was ten, as well as the problematic relationships they faced with their father.  

James’ words are eloquent, with some particularly beautiful phrasing when talking about a bruised sky and impulsive swimming in a coppery river, and evocative memories of swimming with his dad. Some of the humorous inserts were well received too – comparing babies to Tamagotchis, and a well timed heel-click when referencing a beloved Kansas Chicken shop, helped add lightness where feelings may have felt too heavy. His characterisation of Dick was particularly strong, and it would have been nice to see something in this realm with his brother too, although he noted the brothers are very similar in tone and mannerisms.  

The delivery of the performance was unusual, James almost casually chats us into the play, and employed many sidebars to speak directly to the audience, usually to add context to the world, but also appeal directly to us. Some of these were more helpful than others, and was on the edge of being too distracting at times. There was a moment where he brought up the harsh overhead lights, whilst suicide was being discussed, to bring it literally and figuratively into the light. A noble sentiment, but the harsh transition in the light levels felt quite abrasive. Whilst it’s very admirable that James is so keen in providing a safe environment for the audience, and his repeated reassurances that he was ok in himself, despite the subject matter, this felt on the verge of protesting a little too much.   

At some points, as this was not presented as a typical story-telling arc, and in combination with  the sidebars, the timelines and multiple threads felt somewhat challenging to follow. Happily, the frequent Shakespeare references are more easily woven into the fabric – even those who are not familiar with Hamlet will feel accommodated. James’ deep love of the play shines through, and clearly holds a deeply personal space within him. Here the sidebars work the best, with thought-provoking insights into “To be, or not to be” and “There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.”

Overall, the story is an intriguing one and presented in an ambitious and unique manner, with much to like and to ponder after the show. Whilst we’re intentionally left without a neatly wrapped conclusion, I couldn’t help wanting to know more about the characters, which is all due to James’ evident talent for story-telling. Whilst all three plays are being performed separately as part of the current tour, it would be an intriguing prospect to see a single performance spanning all three plays, which James hinted may be a possibility for the future, and would be something very worth seeking out. 

The “Songs of the Heart” trilogy is currently touring the UK, with dates and locations available at https://jamesrowlandtouring.com/ 

REVIEW: Mr Chonkers

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

An anarchic smorgasbord of delights

Leaving Edinburgh’s Monkey Barrel on Friday night, I messaged a friend “I don’t know what I’ve just seen, but I think I really liked it”. I’m not quite sure who Mr Chonkers is for, or how to do it justice in this review, which leaves me in an unusual position. But I do know this show is definitely for me, so let’s have a go.

Mr Chonkers is the creation of US comedian John Norris. An unexpected hit in the 2022 Edinburgh Fringe, it has grown in popularity, and he’s now embarking on a Mr Chonkers tour, kicking off in Edinburgh. In the crowd before the show begins, there’s a real buzz, peppered with snippets of people dying to let their companions know what’s coming, without ruining the suspense.

Over the next hour, we’re treated to Mr Chonker’s industry debut, showcasing his skills learnt over so many hours, with his mentor, Dr William Chunt. We have sections dedicated to poetry, comedy, startling celebrity impressions, facial contortions a-plenty, hats a-go-go, an insightful phone conversation, and a many-versioned Italian melodrama for the ages, complete with an incomparable finale. Mr Chonkers spills his soul about his career insecurities, and whilst his dreams are seemingly crumbling around him, he rises to a riotous and glorious finale. There’s physicality and energy in spades, whilst we’re kept laughing at, and with, him, and a bit unsure about why at times.

It would be an easy decision to keep throwing these elements at an audience in the hope something sticks. However, this has been carefully produced, with lovely looping callbacks, and it all just…works? Unbelievably and seemingly effortlessly (which means bucketloads of effort has gone into making it so). You can tell someone loves what they’re doing when their eyes sparkle – John Norris’ eyes are practically dazzling throughout.

Possibly due to it being the first night, there are some points where the pacing felt a little uneven in the middle section, although it really ramps up in the climax. The audience participation was a little stilted, but more a reflection on the audience members than Norris, which is always a risk. I’d love to see another night where they were more engaged, but equally, we would have missed some gorgeously contorted facial expressions and imploring looks to release Mr Chonkers from his self-imposed horrors.

As we reach the climax with a magic trick, it’s clear there’s real heart at the centre of this show, and the audience are united in the vision and perseverance of Mr Chonkers to make his dreams come true.

This is a pile of delights that weaves into nothing and everything. If the outside world is making no sense, dive into nonsense with Mr Chonkers.

The Mr Chonkers tour continues in February and March 2025, with dates in Manchester, Leeds, Paris, Amsterdam, Bristol, London and Brighton. Tickets available at https://www.impatientproductionsuk.com/mr-chonkers

REVIEW: We Will Hear The Angels

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Heartbreak is universal

The tagline for Magnetic North’s multimedia production of We Will Hear The Angels is “what happens when all you want to do is sing the blues and someone hands you a microphone?” but this doesn’t do justice to the riches that lie within.

The performance opens with a pacy movement piece, with our five actor-musicians traversing the space and snippets of internal monologues, and projections on the brick wall behind. Directed by Nicholas Bone and Marisa Zanotti, Nicholas is the writer, and one of the performers too, acting and playing the guitar. The rest of the cast is formed of Apphia Campbell, Caitlin Forbes (also plays violin), Marie-Gabrielle Koumenda (also plays guitar and shaker) and Greg Sinclair (also plays cello)

Nicholas, Apphia, Caitlin and Greg tell their stories to Marie-Gabrielle, in snapshots of unrequited love, the discovery of an affair, rediscovery and fresh pain of an old love. Each with it’s own unique and exquisite pain, but universally recognisable. This is all underpinned by the refrain of Moondog’s All Is Loneliness, and projections. Inspired by Hitchcock’s Rear Window, we’re given these insights into various rooms within the same building, and finally tying Caitlin and Nicholas’ stories together with a final exchange taken from Chekov’s Uncle Vanya.

We continue with Nicholas singing casually, almost to himself, Hank William’s I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, as he wandered around the stage, followed by more formal performances, in front of the microphone by Caitlin and Greg. Caitlin’s rendition of Pasty Cline’s Why Can’t He Be You, was at turns soulful and sardonic, accompanied by a deeply Scottish lip curl. The momentum changed with Greg’s song – Rip It Up, by Orange Juice, a melancholy indie flair. However, Apphia’s turn at the microphone, complete with tears in her eyes, delivered a gut-wrenchingly impassioned version of Etta James’ I’d Rather Go Blind. The segues, choreography, and transitions are beautifully timed, and additional music is well placed.

In the final act, the performers come together as a fivesome for a deeply affecting version of Brian Eno’s Spinning Away, with Apphia and Marie-Gabrielle’s gorgeous vocals accompanied by the others, and a fitting conclusion of looking to the stars.

Within the industrial brick, wood and metal beams of the Fruitmarket Warehouse, the stage is surrounded by horseshoe seating, with rows of chairs and stools. Depending where you sit, each audience member has a unique view of the floor space and the performers, although at times, this can be hampered by the beams. Also it’s worth mentioning that whilst an hour on a backed stool is more than manageable, I would recommend going early if you prefer a chair.

Tonight was the first night of the run, after the previous night had been cancelled due to adverse weather, and there were a couple of discordant notes at times, and a few occasions where mics picked up fluffiness from clothing, but on the whole, this complemented the sense of rawness to the performance and was not overly distracting.

This is an unusual show, and those looking for a traditional musical theatre show will have to keep looking. This delivers so much more – an unique insight into universal heartbreak. In the time since seeing the show, I’ve replayed the characters storylines over, wondering how the permutations may have played out, with the scars of their heartbreak hidden from those around them, and only unveiled to those of us lucky enough to have a ticket.

“We Will Hear The Angels” runs until Thursday 6th February (no performance on Sundays or Mondays). You can book tickets here.

Credit: Gerry Goodstein

REVIEW: The Merchant of Venice

Published on by Claire McArthur1 Comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

a blistering production

William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice is a story of racism, bigotry, love, faith, justice and vengeance. This Theatre for a New Audience production, directed by Arin Arbus, has come to Edinburgh from Brooklyn, New York, in an exchange visit after the Lycem’s Macbeth (an undoing) performed there in 2024. 

Brief outline of the plot. Bassanio (Ariel Shafir)  is in love with Portia (Isabel Arraiza) a wealthy heiress, and needs money to woo her. He asks his merchant friend, Antonio (Alfredo Narciso), to borrow 3,000 ducats from the Jewish money lender, Shylock (John Douglas Thompson). Due to their mutual antipathy, they settle on a bond of a pound of flesh to be recovered if the loan is not repaid on time. These accomplished scenes crackle with unnerving tension and racial hatred. 

Lighter scenes follow, with the pursuit of Portia by her unlucky suitors, with lighthearted relief from the Prince of Arragon (Varín Ayala) and Prince of Morocco (Maurice Jones). The comic timing Shirine Babb, as her maid Nerissa, was a particular favourite, and Bassanio ultimately triumphs to win his bride. Another love story unfolds, with Shylock’s daughter Jessica (Danaya Esperanza) eloping with Lorenzo (Ðavid Lee Huỳnh), along with her father’s money and jewels, and renouncing her Judaism. The scenes of Jessica and Shylock together are particularly moving – and culminates in a startling final scene together. 

The climax of the play focuses on Shylock’s inexorable pursuit of his bond, and ultimately being granted only his bond, he finds himself in financial and spiritual ruin. The sheer brutality of this scene, where Shylock is pleaded with to show mercy to the Christian, grinds uncomfortably up against the subsequent torment that is inflicted against him. The parallels between the words and dehumanising actions bring to mind chilling parallels with the current world.  

There were word-perfect performances from the cast, but ultimately everyone is outshone by John Douglas Thomas’s powerhouse portrayal of Shylock. Cascading through the gamut of human emotions, it was impossible to tear your eyes from him, particularly in scenes where he was unbuttoned with grief and incandescent with rage.

Any apprehension the audience may have held before the performance about the combination of  American accents and Shakespeare were swiftly dismissed. After a few minutes, the novelty melts aways, resulting in a very accessible production. The overall tone of the performance was perhaps more unusual to a traditional Shakespeare play. There were instances were the jokes were over-egged just a beat too long, just to make sure the audience heard them, and some of the dramatic scenes almost edged on pantomime – in the courtroom when Shylock is finally advancing with knife in hand to claim his bond, there is a very laboured and melodramatic scene behind him, until he’s commanded to stop. 

However, this does not detract from some startlingly dramatic scenes. The cruelty shown towards Shylock, as his kippah and tallit are ripped away from him, is a highlight across the whole cast, and the final scene with Shylock and Jessica singing the Jewish prayer Kol Nidre is simply breathtaking. 

The staging is also unique – stark, industrial and Brutalist in nature, contrasting beautifully with the colourfully ornate surroundings of the theatre. Our setting is “an American city, in the near future”, although all the references to Italian locations remain, with modern flashes through costumes, ‘bro culture’ mannerisms and technology. Some of these are more skilfully implemented than others – for example, the use of mobile phones to demonstrate messages and photos being shared between the players feels natural, whilst the use of vapes in one scene seemed more incongruous.

This production boldly shakes off the presumption of Shakespeare being the sole domain of posh actors in ruff collars. Over 400 years since the Merchant of Venice was first performed, this production’s candle throws its beams far, with a blistering retelling of a story that has never been more relevant to our modern world.   

REVIEW: Scottish Chamber Orchestra: Prokofiev and Brahms

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A sparkling evening between light and darkness

The Scottish Chamber Orchestra and Edinburgh’s Usher Hall are always an excellent combination, and this concert was no exception. Split in two – the first half was devoted to Sergei Prokofiev (Symphony No 1 in D major, Op 2, followed by Violin Concerto No 2, Op 63), and the second half to Johannes Brahms and his Symphony No 2, Op 73. 

Before the arrival of the conductor Maxim Emelyanychev, we opened with some charming remarks from cellist Eric de Wit, who was celebrating being with the orchestra for 15 years. He spoke touchingly of his colleagues, of what we were about to hear of Prokofiev, and of his fondness for the Brahms second half and the nostalgia for his early days with the SCO. 

Onward into Prokofiev’s Symphony No 1, and the playful strings of the orchestra take the lead in the Allegro, through the emphatic swells of the second movement Larghetto, the rousing Gavotta, and a bold Finale. Tonight’s theme of light and dark, with one being unable to exist without the other, was evident throughout – with the frequent changes in pace and volume, and various orchestra sections taking the lead at different times, before coming together as a swaggeringly harmonious unit, energetically conducted by Emelyanychev. The whirling Finale was a particular favourite here, big and bold, and a fitting conclusion to the compact Symphony.

Next, we were joined on stage by violinist Aylen Pritchin for Violin Concerto No 2, a darker, richer entity, with frenetic energy and shadowy, twisting elements. Whilst the orchestra were wonderfully proficient in these evocative movements, the star quality of Aylen was mesmerising, performing with skill and panache (and notably, no sheet music) throughout the Concerto. Dreamy and sinister elements went hand-in-hand, with trepidatious timpani building suspense. Following Aylen’s well-deserved ovation, we were treated to a skilled solo performance, where it almost felt like he was playing multiple instruments at once, such was the force of sound produced, and the audience kept in rapt attention. The orchestra looked on, and it was very touching to see Maxim watching too, perched up in the seats behind the orchestra. 

After the interval to take a breath and recover, we were back into brighter, sunnier, climes, with Brahms. The clever programming here meant that the brighter movement here was not anticlimactic after the dramatic violin concerto, but served as a reflection of the first Symphony, thus retaining the balance of the concert, and finishing with aplomb. Whilst the entire orchestra deserve plaudits, George Strivens on horn was particularly dazzling. Cellist Su-a Lee’s gloriously sequinned trousers also deserve a mention, and added a festive sparkle to the proceedings.

Where there might have been darkness through the concert, only lightness remained as evidenced in the final applause.  It was particularly lovely to see the individual ovations for various sections, in addition to the whole orchestra, and the volume of applause befitting the performance we’d just witnessed. It is also worth noting the effort that the SCO put into their insightful and accessible programmes, which is a real testament to their belief that access to world-class music is not a luxury, but something everyone should have an opportunity to participate in. It’s also worth seeking out their Spotify playlists, perfect for reliving your favourite concert moments. With the sparkling form on show that evening, I can’t wait to see what 2025 brings for the SCO. 

REVIEW: Soundhouse Winter Festival: Victoria Hume

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Stirring and thought-provoking songs for our time

The second night of the inaugural Soundhouse Winter Festival opened with an inspirational performance from Edinburgh-based pianist Victoria Hume, accompanied by her collaborator Chris Letcher.  

Deep within the subterranean and dimly-lit depths of the Traverse Theatre, the small but appreciative crowd was treated to a rendition of this year’s album “Radical Abundance”. A succinct album of nine songs, funded by Creative Scotland and takes inspiration from principles of degrowth and the potential of a post-capitalist world as proffered by “Less is More: How Degrowth Will Save the World” by Jason Hickel. Rounding out the set, was a further five songs, from previous work. Inspiration is taken from all manner of sources, from the previous Conservative governments, through to cultural shifts, plastic tat, Peterborough train station, and a mining town in Australia.      

The songs are simultaneously ethereal in composition, but the lyrics are deeply grounded (I know, I know, but bear with me here). With folky roots, we’re spoken to, without preaching or superiority, with songs that are acutely observational but retain a lightness of touch, and an otherworldly air. Words that your heart wants to hear, but you hadn’t realised until now.     

Victoria was accompanied on a variety of guitars, keyboard and piano by her collaborator Chris Letcher. The accompaniment added an extra dimension to Victoria’s playing and singing, effortlessly intertwining. In one touching moment, they played the same piano, with Victoria standing by Chris’ shoulder, and striking a low refrain, alongside his playing.  

Between songs, Victoria addressed the listeners warmly, sharing various anecdotes and inspirations in a friendly and conspiratorial manner. This intimacy made it feel like we could be transported to any venue, or even just sitting in her living room, and we would still be richly rewarded for what we have heard. As part of this open dialogue, Victoria apologised for omitting a few songs due to a lingering cold, however, this didn’t impede the audience’s enjoyment, and any unintended extra throatiness only added to the texture of her performance. 

My group chats are always the first to know when I’ve seen something extraordinary – and tonight I started messaging people from the bus home, spreading the word about this performance. So consider this review an extension of my group chat – you really need to listen to “Radical Abundance”, and anything else from Victoria that you can get your hands on.  The Soundhouse Winter Festival, a new 5-day music festival in Edinburgh, runs from 28 November until 02 December 2024. Produced by the Soundhouse Organisation, it incorporates performances by some of the very best musicians from Scotland, showcasing some of the most exciting newcomers, and offers a full programme of workshops over this weekend.

REVIEW: Soundhouse: The Rugged Island – A Shetland Lyric

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A gorgeous and evocative ode to Shetland

On the opening night of the Soundhouse Winter Festival (a new 5-day music festival in Edinburgh), the cold and dreich night was soon forgotten in the Traverse Theatre, as we were wrapped in the warmth of two gorgeous odes to Shetland.   

Opening the show was a performance from Amy Laurenson, a phenomenally talented pianist from Shetland. The set comprised 10 songs, including those from her debut album “Strands” (which has been playing on a loop in my flat ever since this performance). The open upright piano was situated so Amy had her back to the crowd but the open upper panel of the piano meant her deft movements and the dancing piano hammers were visible to the audience. Bathed in a soft blue light, the rest of the room melted away, giving an intimacy to her dynamic performance. Starting with a solo rendition of Tom Anderson’s “Mareel”, Amy was joined on stage by guitarist Miguel Girão to accompany the remaining songs, interspersed with charming and soft-spoken anecdotes from Amy about their provenance. The guitar added an extra dimension to the piano, and across the performance, there was a uniting thread of familiar Scottish traditional music, with lilting modern influences and even jazz licks appearing on occasions. My particular favourites were “Freddie’s Tune” by the intriguing Friedemann Stickle, and the combination of “Tune for A.Lien”, fittingly composed by Catriona MacDonald and the traditional “Maggie o’ Ham”. A fantastic choice of opening act for what was to follow next.      

Following the interval, we were dropped straight into 1930s life in Shetland, with “The Rugged Island”. Projected on the large screen, this black and white “story-documentary”, filmed in 1933, was directed by Glasgow-born filmmaker Jenny Gilbertson. On stage, we were joined by Shetland fiddle player Catriona Macdonald, and Fair Isle instrumentalist Inge Thomson, who provided an incredibly moving soundtrack to the film, in real time.  

The film follows a year in the life of two crofting families in Shetland – Johnnie (the director’s real-life fiancé, John Gilbertson), a young crofter who loves neighbour Enga (played by Enga Stout), but is torn between the promise of a new life in Australia and the duty of care towards his family. We follow the seasons over the course of the year, and the associated crofting and domestic activities – peat stacking, tattie planting, herring fishing, as well as Fair Isle knitting, and breaking characteristically truculent Shetland ponies to harness. There’s a lightness and humour provided by Flora the dog, and Caddie the black caddy (i.e. orphaned) lamb, although the latter is at the crux of a crisis point at the film’s climax. The performances of the human cast are incredibly relaxed with one another, giving the heart and authenticity to the filming.     

The film is entirely without dialogue, with handwritten letters appearing on screen in copperplate handwriting to move the plot forward, in addition to newpaper clippings and well-placed intertitles. Use of vocabulary particular to Shetland (e.g. peerie, where wee is used elsewhere) lends itself further to the location setting. However, the addition of the natural soundtrack, of waves crashing, seabirds calling, and the natural environment, enhances the performances of Catriona and Inge, creating an uniquely immersive experience. The music raising the drama and emotion on screen, and keeping the audience rapt through to the very conclusion of the film.

Overall, this was a remarkable example of the depth of Scottish creativity, adding a modern flair to footage recorded nearly a century ago. This was an exceptional experience and one which will be hard to beat for the remainder of the Soundhouse festival.  

The Soundhouse Winter Festival, a new 5-day music festival in Edinburgh, runs from 28 November until 02 December 2024. Produced by the Soundhouse Organisation, it incorporates performances by some of the very best musicians from Scotland, showcasing some of the most exciting newcomers, and offers a full programme of workshops over this weekend.

FEATURE: A History of Scottish Drama in Six Plays

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Scottish theatre has a rich and varied history, not confined to the written text. As explained by journalist and critic Fergus Morgan at the launch of his new podcast “A History of Scottish Drama in Six Plays”, it has undergone a rather unique evolutionary process, often out of necessity, from the obstacles in its way. From the Scottish Reformation in 16th Century, development of music hall entertainment as the country became more industrialised; through to the 20th century, with successes as part of Glasgow’s European City of Culture in 1990, following the previous darker era from Thatcher’s time in power in the 1980s, and ending with the establishment of the National Theatre of Scotland in the 2000s, and the current uncertainty of arts funding in Scotland.     

Today’s event was a live panel recording of what is to be the seventh episode of the podcast. The first part of the event was an overview of the topics that will be covered in the preceding podcast episodes. Episode one, which is now available, features discussion of Sir David Lyndsay’s 16th Century play “A Satire of the Three Estates” in the context of the Scottish Reformation, where Scotland was deprived of traditional theatrical representation, and sparked the move to folk drama beyond ‘playwrights writing plays’. Subsequent episodes cover plays such as “Men Should Weep”, “Losing Venice”, “Passing Places”, and “Black Watch” and the era of its time of writing, in discussion with playwrights, performers, academics and critics.    

Tonight’s panel comprised critic Mark Fisher, the playwrights Nicola McCartney and Isla Cowan, and Traverse Theatre Artistic Director Gareth Nicholls. In an engaging and thought-provoking section, Fraser had asked them to focus on a play or production from the last decade that exemplified Scottish drama. You’ll have to listen to the podcast to hear the examples being discussed, and a particularly impassioned statement from Nicola McCartney should not be missed, describing every new play as being ‘a desperate, longed-for, heartbeat’ within our culture. 

As the discussion progressed, clear themes emerged about the uniqueness of the Scottish theatre environment, how to nurture new talent, and ensure inclusivity and new voices to emerge, and inevitably the subject of money. The ‘good night out’ vibes that emanated first from the Glasgow music hall scene, and persists to this day, and the collective energy of groups being able to speak with authenticity and lived experiences. A general consensus also being that Scotland has always had to show resilience in face of adversity, been squeezed to do more, with less, but is particularly stark in the current economy, following years of austerity, and perils of risk-averse attitudes at the expense of innovation and experimentation.     

For further context about the importance of this conversation – in early October, Creative Scotland revealed that their Multi-Year funding announcement, expected in October, would not be announced until January 2025, leaving 281 applications with an ask of £87.5 million in limbo, and many in the industry with uncertainty about their future past April 2025. 

Tonight’s discussion was a fascinating insight into the past and present climate of Scottish theatre. Fergus is an engaging and knowledgeable host, as those familiar with his own Substack publication, the Crush Bar, will attest, and it is recommended read. On the basis of tonight’s event and the first episode, this promises to be a valuable addition to the Scottish arts scene.   

“A History Of Scottish Drama In Six Plays” is written and produced by Fergus Morgan, created with support from the Scottish Society of Playwrights’ SSP@50 Fellowship Awards and from Creative Scotland. The first episode was released on Monday 28th October and is available across podcast platforms now. 

Listen to the podcast here

Pitlochry Festival Theatre - A Streetcar Named Desire.

REVIEW: A Streetcar Named Desire

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Kirsty Stuart is dazzling as Blanche DuBois

This production of Tennessee William’s 1947 play A Streetcar Named Desire originated from the Pitlochry Festival Theatre. Directed by Elizabeth Newman, the story of Blanche DuBois unravels itself around us, as she visits her sister Stella, and her brother in law, Stanley Kowalski, in the sultry heat of the New Orleans summer. As Stella and Stanley personalities clash, and the attraction to one of his friends and colleagues grows, Blanche’s history comes back to haunt her in unforgettable and iconic fashion.  

Those who are familiar with the 1951 film adaptation will recall the claustrophobic setting of Stella and Stanley’s cramped apartment, which is brought to life in spectacular fashion here. Pivoting around a spiral staircase, leading to Eunice and Steve Hubbell’s apartment, the stage is set on a circular revolving platform, which smoothly, and disarmingly swiftly, rotates through 3 positions, providing the location for the courtyard, kitchen and bedroom scenes. Cunningly designed by Emily James, the platform floor depicts a vinyl jazz record, complete with grooves and Columbia label. Gorgeously lit by Jeanine Byrne, with rich reds and and blues, the scene is evocative from the outset, transporting us into the oppressive atmosphere. 

We meet Blanche, spectacularly portrayed by Kirsty Stuart, with a perfect combination of bolshiness, vanity and fragility, and impeccable accent work. Her sisterly relationship with Stella (played by Nalini Chetty) has a beautiful bickering cadence, with Stella’s baby bump seemingly growing before our very eyes. Both actors also displayed impressively fast costume changes throughout. Conversely, Stella’s relationship with her husband Stanley (Matthew Trevannion) is one based in desire and lust, and there’s palpable chemistry between the actors, adding authenticity. The brutish and menacing character of Stanley is clearly evident, often at full volume which does lose a little of the nuance in his performance. The object of Blanche’s affections, Harold Mitchell (Keith Macpherson) provides a charming contrast, with earnestness and tender air. 

This production splits the play into two acts, and whilst it’s clear from a storyline perspective why the split occurs, it did lead to the first act being considerably longer than the second act, feeling slightly sophorific in the warm theatre and basking in the languid Southern drawls.  

By contrast, the second act is a taut affair, with the beautifully composed music of Pippa Murphy providing a nerve jangling and discordant air, reflecting Blanche’s state of mind as we progress. This is further enhanced with some well orchestrated backlighting, adding an unique textural element as we reach the climax, and Blanche’s downfall, keeping the audience in rapt attention.  

Although very faithful to the film and perhaps more so the original play, newcomers to Streetcar will no doubt enjoy this production as much as those who are returning to it as old friends. 

REVIEW: The Boys In The Band

Published on by Claire McArthurLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Glorious storytelling of the worst birthday party ever

Edinburgh University’s Theatre Company is currently in a rich vein of form, with the latest being a terrific adaptation of Mart Crowley’s 1968 play “The Boys In The Band”, co-directed by Elle Catherine Willcocks and Aaron de Verés. The first act opens with Michael (played by James Cumming), fastidiously arranging his New York apartment for his friend Harold’s birthday party. The 1960s era is set with crackly gramophone recordings of movie soundtracks, and one by one, we’re introduced to our party-goers, with tantalising hints as to their interrelated histories and relationships – Donald (Ewan Little) observer of the group; Emory (Noah Sarvesvaran) with an unusual taste in birthday gifts, Bernard (Kikelomo Hassan), and a couple comprising teacher Hank (Dylan Kaeuper) and artist Larry (Issac Williams). Whilst they await their guest of honour, they’re unexpectedly joined by Michael’s old (and notably straight) college roommate from Georgetown, the tuxedo-clad Alan (Rufus Goodman). Emory’s ‘birthday present’ to Howard in the form of Cowboy (Ewan Guthrie) also arrives, before the guest of honour himself appears – Harold (Oscar Bryan). 

The script is lightning fast, and through the first act, the ripostes and repartee flows easily between the cast, with insults and put-downs that come with the familiarity of friendship groups. However, the strength of the performances really lies in the characterisation that the actors bring to the roles, a difficult task when there are so many characters on stage at once. 

As the play progresses and moves into the second act, and as tensions mount and flare, the change in atmosphere brings a razor-sharp tension to the group. Whilst the original screenplay was written in 1968, there are still many elements that feel fresh and still relevant to our society today. The production has not shied away from instances of homophobic and racially offensive language, which are used sparingly, but dramatic effect, drawing intakes of breath from the rapt audience. Set solely within the confines of Michael’s apartment, the staging has been thoughtfully constructed to provide insights into what happens up and downstairs. Care has also been given with choreographing the one-sided telephone conversations, which were eminently believable. The accent work was also fantastic – I particularly enjoyed the low growl of Alan.  

Given the range of cast members, stage time was always going to be at a premium, but if the first act didn’t provide justice to the characters of Emory and Bernard, we were richly rewarded in the second act with nuanced and emotive monologues about lost loves from Noah Sarvesvaran and Kikelomo Hassan. The doe-eyed sweetness of Ewan Guthrie’s Cowboy charmed the audience, and was well contrasted with the wry observations from Ewan Little’s Donald. The fractious but loving relationship between Hank and Larry was beautifully observed, with a natural chemistry between Dylan Kaeuper and Issac Williams. Harold was a deliciously spiky and discerning portrayal by and Rufus Goodman’s (reportedly) straight-laced Alan provided natural foil to the others.  

Even with such a strong cast, James Cumming’s Michael was an extraordinarily magnetic performance – descending through layers of light-hearted bantering, into increasingly barbed attacks and bullying as he spirals out of control, into an abhorrent version of the character we first met. This was an absolute triumph to keep the audience with him, right through to his contorted form screaming in anguish on the floor. Heartbreaking, awful and utterly wonderful. 

The Bedlam Theatre is a notoriously cold venue, so whilst the provision of blankets from the café is much appreciated, it’s recommended to wrap up warm. Happily, the strength of the performances of stage means the chill doesn’t detract from the enjoyment of the show, as confirmed by the well-deserved standing ovation.