Theatre
MODERN CLASSIC OAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF 0000 Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh, until Sat 19 Nov
There is a particular class of well-to-do folk which still exists now as much as at any time since early capitalism, for whom financial inheritance is the prime source of life. Decadence and a lethargy that has ontological implications are an inevitable consequence. Such are the characters of Tennessee Williams’ old chestnut of broken folk, greed and dissipated emotional integrity.
In Richard Baron’s production Maggie (Lesley Harcourt) has itchy ovaries for more than emotional reasons; she needs to conceive a child in order to secure her part of the family inheritance of her latent homosexual husband Brick (Dugald Bruce Lockhart). The wastrel former professional footballer is the favoured son of Big Daddy (Aaron Shirley) but the ruthless, morally pragmatic self-made man is under pressure from Mae and son Goober (Candida Gubbins, Rory Murray) to cough up as he ails, in total
MUSICAL WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY
denial of his mortality.
Richard Baron’s production has felicitously avoided the tendency to fag and drag that sometimes overboils the inherent melodrama of this piece, to produce a dog on the tin roof in question. In front of an ingenious Edward Lipscombe design, in which the mansion bedrooms’ walls are transparent allowing for that sense of claustrophobia and voyeurism that so underpins the piece, the action is skilfully paced, taking its audience back to slow simmer after each climax. The moral decrepitude fairly runs down the walls, and children, always apt to heighten tensions when adult conversations are to be had, are used well in this version, not, as is sometimes seen, innocents abroad, but just as sinister as their parents. There are some good performances, too, with Bruce Lockhart adding a real wit to his boyscoutish, uncommunicative closet case, and Christine Absalom bringing comic gusto to her nouveau riche Big Mama. The Southern accents are a little up and down, but this is a good night out.
(Steve Cramer)
CONTEMPORARY DANCE VINCENT DANCE THEATRE
Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, Sat 12 Nov
Regardless of which costume they put on, the performers in Vincent Dance Theatre always wear their hearts on their sleeve. All eight of them have plundered their soul for the company‘s new work. Broken Chords. a reflection on growing up. growing old and the relationships which shape our lives.
‘The director and performers always work from the inside out. both physically and emotionally,' says artistic director, Charlotte Vincent. ‘Broken Chords is the most brutally honest piece we have made to date. born out of emotional heartbreak. It's about loss and separation, and the search for a language that can adequately express these deep and personal feelings.‘
Pretty heavy stuff. which is why Vincent has broken up the action with a series of ‘interruptions' — small breaks in the action which provide some light relief for both the audience and performers. 'lt's really two pieces in one.‘ explains Vincent. ‘A contemporary dance that describes grief and pain through movement. and a series of humorous and inappropriate interruptions that question the performers' ability to focus only on the darker side of life.‘ (Kelly Apter)
her disabled former film star sister Blanche (Karen
84 THE LIST 3—1 7 Nov 2005
JANE? .00
Citizens‘ Theatre, Glasgow, until Sat 12 Nov
All theatre is. of course, in the moment; it can happen only once and is gone, repeated. but quite differently. the next night. But if this is true of theatre generally, it is particularly true of camp, which. for all its arcane contrivance and elaborate baroque has an immediacy that denies both past and future. This is perhaps because camp is a reactive form — it has nothing to say for itself, only the conventions it imitates and renders grotesque. so it lacks a final philos0phy.
So it is that there are some perfect moments in Kenny Miller's production of this musical adaptation of Henry Farrell's book. best known as the Bette Davis and Joan Crawford film melodrama. but exactly why one reacts positively at the time is difficult to say afterwards. In it. of course. child star and vaudeville burn out Jane (Andrea Miller) and
Mann) are trapped within a relationship that forms a prison of different kinds for each. A multiplicity of other characters appear. played by the eight strong cast. including a monstrous loveless father and a concerned, ill-fated maid (Johnny and Julie Austin).
The production winds up moving from pastiche to grim and violent farce. and Lee Pockriss and Hal Hackaday‘s sardonic songs are generally well presented. but there are moments when one wonders what it's all in aid of. But perhaps this is too moral a view of an ephemeral genre. Whatever its not-for-all—tastes merits. these are added to by a splendid lead performance by Miller. whose robust rendition of some songs salty With bitter tears. accompanied by a sole pianist (Richard Lewis) bring all the stultified glamour of Sunset Bou/evard to mind. So too does Kenny Miller's splendid multi- level set. More a fascinating curio than a masterpiece. this is nevertheless worth a watch. (Steve Cramer)