Skip to main content

Electrolyte

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh
Four stars

The party looks like it might never end at the start of James Meteyard’s play, a street-smart spoken-word hip-hopera set to Maimuna Memon’s live score played by Wildcard Theatre’s cast of six. For Jessie, the young woman at the heart of the show, however, the come-down, when it kicks in, sends her on the run from her friends in Leeds to a London where she chases some kind of salvation. This comes initially through sweet-voiced singer Allie Touch, though crashing out in a warehouse is merely a stopping-off point before she embarks on a manic search for her mother.    

What initially looks like a dysfunctional post-Skins rave-up in Donnacadh O’Briain’s production rapidly evolves into a far more urgent rush of everyday psychosis as Jessie attempts to come to terms with her losses. That she does this with the help of the friends she almost left behind speaks volumes about where the play is coming from in terms of surrounding yourself with good people in order to survive. Such a message is never hammered home, but emerges from what looks like genuine collective empathy onstage.

With Olivia Sweeney taking the microphone throughout as Jessie, the performances are so natural as to initially presume she’s fronting a real band. Such speak-easy bonhomie with the audience and each other is deceptive, however, in what is a well-drilled machine that taps into of-the-moment concerns regarding personal well-being.

Arriving in Scotland during Mental Health Awareness Week as part of the Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival prior to dates at Dumfries and Galloway Arts Festival, the stripped-down nature of O’Briain’s production gives things an epic feel. Such non-naturalistic apparel lends an immediacy and truth to a scenario which captures an ongoing state of collective anxiety that currently prevails. Pulsed by Memon’s score, the play has it large even as Jessie purges her demons enough to learn to carry on, protected by the lives around her with whom she finds mutual support.

The Herald, May 15th 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) ...

Edinburgh Rocks – The Capital's Music Scene in the 1950s and Early 1960s

Edinburgh has always been a vintage city. Yet, for youngsters growing up in the shadow of World War Two as well as a pervading air of tight-lipped Calvinism, they were dreich times indeed. The founding of the Edinburgh International Festival in 1947 and the subsequent Fringe it spawned may have livened up the city for a couple of weeks in August as long as you were fans of theatre, opera and classical music, but the pubs still shut early, and on Sundays weren't open at all. But Edinburgh too has always had a flipside beyond such official channels, and, in a twitch-hipped expression of the sort of cultural duality Robert Louis Stevenson recognised in his novel, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a vibrant dance-hall scene grew up across the city. Audiences flocked to emporiums such as the Cavendish in Tollcross, the Eldorado in Leith, The Plaza in Morningside and, most glamorous of all due to its revolving stage, the Palais in Fountainbridge. Here the likes of Joe Loss and Ted Heath broug...

Carla Lane – The Liver Birds, Mersey Beat and Counter Cultural Performance Poetry

Last week's sad passing of TV sit-com writer Carla Lane aged 87 marks another nail in the coffin of what many regard as a golden era of TV comedy. It was an era rooted in overly-bright living room sets where everyday plays for today were acted out in front of a live audience in a way that happens differently today. If Lane had been starting out now, chances are that the middlebrow melancholy of Butterflies, in which over four series between 1978 and 1983, Wendy Craig's suburban housewife Ria flirted with the idea of committing adultery with successful businessman Leonard, would have been filmed without a laughter track and billed as a dramady. Lane's finest half-hour highlighted a confused, quietly desperate and utterly British response to the new freedoms afforded women over the previous decade as they trickled down the class system in the most genteel of ways. This may have been drawn from Lane's own not-quite free-spirited quest for adventure as she moved through h...