Perth Theatre
3 stars
With the fug of a thousand Burns Nights still fresh, Gerry Mulgrew’s staged homage to one of the best known narrative poems on the planet blasts through the tartan bard image beloved by well-heeled once-a-year orators with energetic relish and a hotch-potch of theatrical styles. Mulgrew has gamely attempted to stretch a twenty minute work to a full evening by folding in some other Burns favourites alongside a framing device of cheekily contemporary new material. Also thrown into the mix are a live folk score by Aly Macrae, some beautiful singing and some dazzling choreography, especially in Claire Benson’s turn as a provocatively sensual witch.
With a company of eleven onstage throughout the production’s eighty-five minutes, from the opening burl of images onwards, it’s a bold and relentless approach which at times looks in danger of collapsing under the weight of its own ambition. Much of the action is related in an extended pub scene, where Andy Clark’s Tam holds court before braving the elements. By that time we’ve already zapped through an impressive array of costume changes, puppetry and mask work. The show’s mood flits between grimly fiendish and Carry On style knockabout, with healthy dollops of lewd and lascivious behaviour.
As brilliantly executed as all this is, some of the verse’s clarity is lost for the sake of making impressive tableaux. When it pauses for breath, as it does when Robbie Jack’s narrator figure – a geeky antidote to Burnsian swagger – is visited by his muse in the play’s closing moments, all the light and shade that’s gone before makes sense. Too often though, this rollicking look at Burns is a rollercoaster of inspired set-pieces where a full play should be.
The Herald, February 2nd 2009
ends
3 stars
With the fug of a thousand Burns Nights still fresh, Gerry Mulgrew’s staged homage to one of the best known narrative poems on the planet blasts through the tartan bard image beloved by well-heeled once-a-year orators with energetic relish and a hotch-potch of theatrical styles. Mulgrew has gamely attempted to stretch a twenty minute work to a full evening by folding in some other Burns favourites alongside a framing device of cheekily contemporary new material. Also thrown into the mix are a live folk score by Aly Macrae, some beautiful singing and some dazzling choreography, especially in Claire Benson’s turn as a provocatively sensual witch.
With a company of eleven onstage throughout the production’s eighty-five minutes, from the opening burl of images onwards, it’s a bold and relentless approach which at times looks in danger of collapsing under the weight of its own ambition. Much of the action is related in an extended pub scene, where Andy Clark’s Tam holds court before braving the elements. By that time we’ve already zapped through an impressive array of costume changes, puppetry and mask work. The show’s mood flits between grimly fiendish and Carry On style knockabout, with healthy dollops of lewd and lascivious behaviour.
As brilliantly executed as all this is, some of the verse’s clarity is lost for the sake of making impressive tableaux. When it pauses for breath, as it does when Robbie Jack’s narrator figure – a geeky antidote to Burnsian swagger – is visited by his muse in the play’s closing moments, all the light and shade that’s gone before makes sense. Too often though, this rollicking look at Burns is a rollercoaster of inspired set-pieces where a full play should be.
The Herald, February 2nd 2009
ends
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