Statements After Arrest Under the Immorality Act – Assembly Hall – 3 stars As shocking as it seems in the twenty-first century global village, marriage between races is still illegal in some countries. Athol Fugard’s apartheid era play that forms part of Assembly’s South African season of work may date from 1972, but its depiction of state control of the most intimate acts remains timely, and could apply as much to the recent outcry regarding same sex marriages as the situation Fugard depicts. A white woman lies naked in bed with a black man, sharing private moments that go beyond sex. If it weren’t for the shadowy figure sitting in a wheelchair in the corner, this could be scene from some multi-cultural Eden. As it is, such a liaison is a risk to both their lives. While even the idea of an immorality act sounds like something from a dystopian fiction, the full horror of such an invasion of human liberty never quite hits home in Kim Kerfoot’s production for the Theatre Arts Admin Collective. As intense an experience as a show lit solely by torches which double up as intrusive camera flashes is, and as impassioned as the exchanges between Bo Peterson and Malefane Mosuhli as the lovers remains, it never quite transcends the play’s specific backdrop to have the electric charge required. Until August 27th. Chapel Street – Underbelly – 3 stars Having it large on a Friday night is all a boy and girl making their way in the world can hope for in Luke Barnes’ new play, which forms part of the Underbelly’s Old Vic New Voices strand. Over a very big weekend the pair start off on very separate back street booze cruise, but end up on a grotesque collision course that may or may not have been a good night, but will end up as more pub banter material anyway. Told via a relentless pair of criss-crossing monologues, Barnes’ thrill-seekers grab microphones in Cheryl Gallacher’s production for the young Scrawl company. This makes for mile-a-minute grab-bag of stand-up theatre that maps out a no-hope generation’s last-gasp letting off of steam in lieu of anything resembling hope or aspiration. Young people may have been doing this for years, but there’s a motor-mouthed verve in Barnes’ tumble of words, especially as delivered here with such confident swagger by Cary Crankson and Ria Zmitrowicz. With only a traffic cone strewn shopping trolley doubling up as flash limousines and dodgy mini-cabs, Barnes is suggesting it’s okay to be young and foolish, but, judging by the ease with which the pair move on the morning after, happiness is very much elsewhere. Until August 26th. Glory Dazed – Underbelly – 3 stars War, in Cat Jones play that forms part of the Underbelly’s Old Vic New Voices season, is just one big old pub fight. Or so says Ray, the ex squaddie on the run from a prison sentence and seeking refuge in his spit and sawdust Doncaster local. Here his estranged Carla, bar-man Simon and rookie bar-maid Leanne attempt to pacify Ray, the embodiment of disenfranchised working class machismo, and who the system he serves has effectively failed him. Developed with ex-servicemen prisoners by Second Shot Productions, Elle While’s Jones’ play gives voice to a largely misunderstood underclass in a production of considerable power overseen by director Elle While. The quartet of performances are thoroughly believable, despite some over-writing. Only the ending undermines everything that went before with a sentimental quasi-reconciliation that turns things into melodrama with a fudge too far. Until August 26th. A Real Man’s Guide To Sainthood – Underbelly – 3 stars Patriots and nationalists from all countries take note. Gold medals may abound for Team GB at London 2012, but as the inventive About Milk company make clear, heroes will always let you down. St George himself is revealed as a mixed-up kid who society forces to be a tough guy. Here a quartet of waxed-moustache sporting gentlemen and a solitary lady toughen young George up with excursions into morris dancing, heavy drinking and bare-chested flag-waving, all to kill a dragon. But what if, like weapons of mass destruction, the Islamist threat on freedom and a thousand and one other red herrings, the dragon doesn’t exist? Male pride clearly comes before a fall in this playful dissection of male grooming involving songs, bicycles and make-believe Chariots of Fire style triumphalism. Beyond such fripperies, there is a serious point to director Lucy Skilbeck and About Milk’s inventive take on historical myths, that looks to the reasons why there are more male suicides being recorded in the UK than ever before. The sucker punch of such a playfully well-honed delivery gives much food for thought in a piece of work that itself puts the boot into the man’s world it occupies. Until August 26th. The Herald, August 15th 2012 ends
When Ron Butlin saw a man who’d just asked him the time throw himself under a train on the Paris Metro, it was a turning point in how his 1987 novel, The Sound Of My Voice, would turn out. Twenty years on, Butlin’s tale of suburban family man Morris Magellan’s existential crisis and his subsequent slide into alcoholism is regarded as a lost classic. Prime material, then, for the very intimate stage adaptation which opens in the Citizens Theatre’s tiny Stalls Studio tonight. “I had this friend in London who was an alcoholic,” Butlin recalls. “He would go off to work in the civil service in the morning looking absolutely immaculate. Then at night we’d meet, and he’s get mega-blootered, then go home and continue drinking and end up in a really bad state. I remember staying over one night, and he’d emerge from his room looking immaculate again. There was this huge contrast between what was going on outside and what was going on inside.” We’re sitting in a café on Edinburgh’s south sid
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