Monday, November 07, 2011


I went to see this purely because the script is by Abi Morgan.

Now I know it's hard to imagine a time BB (Before Blog) but I directed a play by this aforementioned lady called Tiny Dynamite some years back. A gorgeous little script that told the tale of three - two boys and a girl - and they were all kind of in love with each other.

A young person's modern day version of the Noel Coward play I'm so keen to do. (I say "do" but actually, I mean, "be in".)

Turns out that it's also a National Theatre of Scotland production. So I could (unwittingly) bang the sanctimonious drum about the thriving Scottish theatre scene.

And it was directed by Vicky Featherstone who I also feel (obscurely) fond of - for no reason other than having seen her give a talk to students at QMU some time back. And she looked cool. (So superficial!)

Anyway, luckily, given the great concatenation (Siobhan, that's for you) of auspicious circumstances, I liked it.

The script is a little ponderous. But the themes are laudable enough. And not so weighty that they drag the story down into the dark and dusty nether aisles of the library you hope you'll never have to visit because it's too worthy and dull.

I'm possibly inclined to agree a little with Mr Graveling who was outraged at the liberties taken with scientific truth and felt that the characters verged at some points on caricatures. But for I, the non-scientist, this was much less of an issue.

The set was gorgeous. Though lacked the dilapidation referenced in the script (thanks to Father for that observation).

And it was very nicely acted. The 'breaking points' were all suitably delicately executed. Which is important, I think, in a Abi Morgan play. (Lord, listen to me. What do I know?) She is not heavy-handed with her drama, that one. (Snide aside alert.) (Oh, unless she's writing for TV.) (But that's a different audience. I'd argue you need a heavier hand.) (Danger - patronising.)

Not all of the audience at our particular showing made it all the way through the show. Some were absent in body from the second half. Others (and maybe I too fell into this camp) enjoyed some quiet restful times at certain points as the story wended its way homewards.

But an admirable creation from all concerned. Lots to think about. I'm still - three whole days on - thinking about it around the edges of everything else. Which I think is the finest possible tribute to a piece of theatre.


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