Skip to main content


Tron Theatre, Glasgow
4 stars
June and Jane live in a world of their own in Kirsty Housley's curious 
new play, directed by herself for Teg Productions and the Corn 
Exchange, Newbury for last week's brief Mayfesto run. According to the 
shock-horror headlines, outside there's a serial killer on the loose 
attacking young women just like them. Even a quick trip to the 
supermarket for a pint of milk becomes a potential murder scene. 
Inside, the two siblings are safe, seemingly mirror images of each 
other, who dress identically and role-play their mother's rape by a 
butcher and their own subsequent birth. When Bob comes calling with 
ice-cream for June, the games become a lot more dangerous and a whole 
lot closer to home.

Set in a wooden box full of assorted sized flaps that open out onto the 
big bad world outside and wallpapered to clash with June and Jane's 
flowery frocks, Bandages takes the dark iconography of big-screen 
psycho-sexual schlock-fests and turns them on their head. June and Jane 
are damaged, both by their family history and their own insular 
co-dependence, and the bloody conclusion provoked by Bob's appearance 
has been an accident waiting to happen.

In what is essentially a post-modern gothic chamber piece first 
developed at the National Theatre Studio, any slide into melodrama is 
body-swerved by the eccentricities of both play and production.
Bernadette Russell and Sarah Thom's playing style as the sisters and 
Henry Miller's as Bob veers towards a very English form of cut-glass 
live art archness that resembles the knowing black comedy of The League 
of Gentlemen. Bandages too is a strange and troubling little oddity 
that might also be a cult in waiting.

The Herald, May 7th 2013



Popular posts from this blog

The Honourable K.W. Harman: Ltd Ink Corporation

31 Bath Road, Leith Docks, March 17th-20th

In a monumental shipping container down by Leith Docks, a Sex Pistols tribute band is playing Anarchy in the U.K.. on a stage set up in the middle of the room. Either side, various constructions have been built in such a way so viewers can window shop as they promenade from one end of the room to the next, with the holy grail of a bar at either end.

Inbetween, there’s a confession booth and a mock-up of a private detective’s office with assorted documentation of real-life surveillance pinned to the walls. Two people seem to be having a conversation in public as if they're on a chat show. An assault course of smashed windows are perched on the floor like collateral damage of post-chucking out time target practice. A display of distinctively lettered signs originally created by a homeless man in search of a bed for the night are clumped together on placards that seem to be marking out territory or else finding comfort in being together. Opp…

The Maids

Dundee Rep

Two sisters sit in glass cases either side of the stage at the start of Eve Jamieson's production of Jean Genet's nasty little study of warped aspiration and abuse of power. Bathed in red light, the women look like artefacts in some cheap thrill waxworks horror-show, or else exhibits in a human zoo. Either way, they are both trapped, immortalised in a freak-show possibly of their own making.

Once the sisters come to life and drape themselves in the sumptuous bedroom of their absent mistress, they raid her bulging wardrobe to try on otherwise untouchable glad-rags and jewellery. As they do, the grotesque parody of the high-life they aspire to turns uglier by the second. When the Mistress returns, as played with daring abandon by Emily Winter as a glamour-chasing narcissist who gets her kicks from drooling over the criminal classes, you can't really blame the sisters for their fantasy of killing her.

Slabs of sound slice the air to punctuate each scene of Mart…


Tramway, Glasgow until July 2nd
Four stars

In the dead of night, the audience are split in two and led under-cover into lamp-lit tented structures. Inside, what look like peasant women on the run lead us down a ramp and into a large circular pod. It feels part cathedral, part space-ship, and to come blinking into the light of such a fantastical structure after stumbling in the dark disorientates and overwhelms. Sat around the pod as if awaiting prayers to begin, we watch as performers Nerea Bello and Judith Williams incant mournfully on either side of the room. Their keening chorales embark on a voyage of their own, twisting around each other by way of the international language of singing. As if in sympathy, the walls wail and whisper, before starting to move as those on either side of the pod are left stranded, a gulf between them.

This international co-commission between Glasgow Life and the Merchant City Festival, Sydney Harbour Foreshaw Authority in Australia and Urbane Kienste …