Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh
Four stars
Shon Dale-Jones seems like a very nice chap. You can
tell from the way he welcomes each member of the audience into the theatre,
shaking them by the hand to a soundtrack of energising 1960s feel-good soul.
Such a personable approach helps create a warm and intimate atmosphere, so when
he sits at a desk with only a laptop, a volume control and us for company, you
can’t help but be charmed from the start of this hour-long foray, both into his
own fantastical mind as well as the discursive set of first-world
contradictions it lets loose into the world.
It begins with a Royal Worcester porcelain figure of
the Duke of Wellington on horseback, which Dale-Jones’ dad bought in 1974 for
£750. This would make it worth more than £8,000 in today’s money if his mum
hadn’t broken it while dusting. This is just one more thing for Dale-Jones to
think about as he attempts to apply a script doctor’s ruthless critique onto a
film script he’s been working on for a decade. Meanwhile, on the radio,
refugees are dying as they attempt to flee their homeland.
Dale-Jones’ comic reimagining of real life has raised
almost £40,000 for Save the Children since it first appeared in 2016 in the Hoipolloi
company’s production. The world has got a whole lot worse, alas, since he first
unfurled his meditations on his own personal and artistic ambitions in the face
of liberal guilt. No matter, because the quiet power of this funny, gentle and exquisitely
empathetic jewel of a piece is its ability to humanise a global crisis by
personalising it. The image of Dale-Jones watching his ageing mother climb precariously
aboard her little boat in Anglesey is a beautifully observed snapshot that
shines a light on those in even more perilous waters.
The Herald, April 5th 2018
ends
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