Tron Theatre, Glasgow
4 stars
When a demented young woman is dragged kicking and screaming into a
back room of Northern Ireland's Stormont parliament on the first day of
a post-Troubles truth and reconciliation committee, old wounds, it
seems, appear harder to heal than ever. Especially as Teeni has just
punched the black South African chairwoman in the face while
simultaneously hurling racial abuse. But Teeni and Sandra, the
committee member who's taken charge of her, are sisters, and eleven
years after a drink-sodden Teeni disappeared after pulling a knife on
Sandra's new born baby, they've a lot of catching up to do.
What unravels in David Ireland's blistering seventy-minute two-hander
for the Belfast-based Tinderbox company is an unflinching bundle of
rage that lays bare the deep-set emotional scars that are the
collective aftermath of any conflict. Where Teeni is ablaze with too
much energy and anger, with no outlet save to lash out at those who
robbed her of her father, Sandra's self-loathing is a more complex and
internalised mess of guilt, bad dreams and a desperate urge to make
good. If Claire Lamont's dervish-like Teeni and Tara Lynne O'Neill's
bunged-up Sandra stumble on an uneasy peace in Kathleen Akerley's
wide-open production, it's as short-lived as any ceasefire.
Yet, in the midst of all this, the bucket-load of one-liners Ireland
unleashes from Teeni's mouth are a deadly, litany of filth-lined
truisms spewed out without any emotional filter to help soften the
blow. There's also the funniest description of Nelson Mandela this side
of Soweto. Ultimately this is a play about pain rather than healing,
where peace and reconciliation are abstract luxuries that only serve to
hide the brutal truth within.
The Herald, May 16th 2011
ends
4 stars
When a demented young woman is dragged kicking and screaming into a
back room of Northern Ireland's Stormont parliament on the first day of
a post-Troubles truth and reconciliation committee, old wounds, it
seems, appear harder to heal than ever. Especially as Teeni has just
punched the black South African chairwoman in the face while
simultaneously hurling racial abuse. But Teeni and Sandra, the
committee member who's taken charge of her, are sisters, and eleven
years after a drink-sodden Teeni disappeared after pulling a knife on
Sandra's new born baby, they've a lot of catching up to do.
What unravels in David Ireland's blistering seventy-minute two-hander
for the Belfast-based Tinderbox company is an unflinching bundle of
rage that lays bare the deep-set emotional scars that are the
collective aftermath of any conflict. Where Teeni is ablaze with too
much energy and anger, with no outlet save to lash out at those who
robbed her of her father, Sandra's self-loathing is a more complex and
internalised mess of guilt, bad dreams and a desperate urge to make
good. If Claire Lamont's dervish-like Teeni and Tara Lynne O'Neill's
bunged-up Sandra stumble on an uneasy peace in Kathleen Akerley's
wide-open production, it's as short-lived as any ceasefire.
Yet, in the midst of all this, the bucket-load of one-liners Ireland
unleashes from Teeni's mouth are a deadly, litany of filth-lined
truisms spewed out without any emotional filter to help soften the
blow. There's also the funniest description of Nelson Mandela this side
of Soweto. Ultimately this is a play about pain rather than healing,
where peace and reconciliation are abstract luxuries that only serve to
hide the brutal truth within.
The Herald, May 16th 2011
ends
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