Skip to main content

Stones in His Pockets

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh
Four stars

With the ongoing hoo-har regarding Scotland’s ever-changing plans to build a film studio running on apace, those behind such a move might wish to check out Marie Jones’ play, which dissects some of the unintended consequences of such a move in tragi-comic fashion. Rather than work with a cast of thousands, Jones’ play make a blockbuster using just two actors to convey how a small Irish community is turned upside down by the arrival of a Hollywood film crew. Between them, Owen Sharpe and Kevin Trainor play some fifteen characters to lay bare how willing exploitation can turn sour before the pair walk off into the sunset as heroes.

At the play’s heart are Jake and Charlie, a pair of extras on what looks like a historical romance, with all the windswept Irish clichés such an endeavour entails. Both down on their luck, they bond over the location’s food truck inbetween navigating their way around overbearing assistant directors, fawning runners and an American leading lady desperate to get back to her roots. If Jake and Charlie have stars in their eyes, the reality of just how fragile an economically starved diaspora can be even as it is being colonised and exploited is brought home by the presence of Jake’s teenage nephew, already on the scrapheap and exiled from the glamourous scenes going on around him.

When Jones’ play was first seen in Edinburgh at the Traverse Theatre in 1996, the economic boom of Ireland’s so-called Celtic Tiger was in full swing. Lindsay Posner’s touring revival for the Theatre Royal, Bath and Rose Theatre Kingston doesn’t attempt to update things, but instead makes a comic mockery of all the Irish clichés that abound on the big screen. Through this, Jake and Charlie become a kind of Beckettian double act for whom the closing credits haven’t quite rolled yet. Sharpe and Trainor flit between characters in an instant in a contemporary classic which leans towards a feel-good happy ending in the face of adversity.

The Herald, April 4th 2019


ends

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Losing Touch With My Mind - Psychedelia in Britain 1986-1990

DISC 1 1. THE STONE ROSES   -  Don’t Stop 2. SPACEMEN 3   -  Losing Touch With My Mind (Demo) 3. THE MODERN ART   -  Mind Train 4. 14 ICED BEARS   -  Mother Sleep 5. RED CHAIR FADEAWAY  -  Myra 6. BIFF BANG POW!   -  Five Minutes In The Life Of Greenwood Goulding 7. THE STAIRS  -  I Remember A Day 8. THE PRISONERS  -  In From The Cold 9. THE TELESCOPES   -  Everso 10. THE SEERS   -  Psych Out 11. MAGIC MUSHROOM BAND  -  You Can Be My L-S-D 12. THE HONEY SMUGGLERS  - Smokey Ice-Cream 13. THE MOONFLOWERS  -  We Dig Your Earth 14. THE SUGAR BATTLE   -  Colliding Minds 15. GOL GAPPAS   -  Albert Parker 16. PAUL ROLAND  -  In The Opium Den 17. THE THANES  -  Days Go Slowly By 18. THEE HYPNOTICS   -  Justice In Freedom (12" Version) ...

Myra Mcfadyen - An Obituary

Myra McFadyen – Actress   Born January 12th 1956; died October 18th 2024   Myra McFadyen, who has died aged 68, was an actress who brought a mercurial mix of lightness and depth to her work on stage and screen. Playwright and artistic director of the Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh, David Greig, called McFadyen “an utterly transformative, shamanic actor who could change a room and command an audience with a blink”. Citizens’ Theatre artistic director Dominic Hill described McFadyen’s portrayal of Puck in his 2019 production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre in London as “funny, mischievous and ultimately heartbreaking.”   For many, McFadyen will be most recognisable from Mamma Mia!, the smash hit musical based around ABBA songs. McFadyen spent two years on the West End in Phyllida Lloyd’s original 1999 stage production, and was in both film offshoots. Other big screen turns included Rob Roy (1995) and Our Ladies (2019), both directed by Mi...

The Passage – Hip Rebel Degenerates: Black, White and Red All Over

Prelude – The Power of Three   Fear. Power. Love. This life-and-death (un)holy trinity was the driving force and raisons d’être of The Passage, the still largely unsung Manchester band sired in what we now call the post-punk era, and who between 1978 and 1983 released four albums and a handful of singles.    Led primarily by composer Dick Witts, The Passage bridged the divide between contemporary classical composition and electronic pop as much as between the personal and the political. In the oppositional hotbed of Margaret Thatcher’s first landslide, The Passage fused agit-prop and angst, and released a song called Troops Out as a single. The song offered unequivocal support for withdrawing British troops from Northern Ireland.    They wrote Anderton’s Hall, about Greater Manchester’s born again right wing police chief, James Anderton, and, on Dark Times, rubbed Brechtian polemic up against dancefloor hedonism. On XOYO, their most commercial and potentially mo...