Theatre
PREVIEW NEW WORK A PLAY, A PIE AND A PINT: 200TH PLAY Oran Mor, Glasgow, Mon 4–Sat 9 Oct
Since its inception in 2004, Oran Mor has become rather like a mobile phone to the Scottish theatre: you managed to cope fine before you had one, but these days it’s hard to imagine how. Sustaining itself on box office takings, support from the venue proprietor, Colin Beattie, and modest private sponsorship, this venue has defied the odds to produce some of the most inventive new theatre that Scotland has seen. To celebrate the 200th production
by A Play, a Pie and a Pint, the venue is putting on not a single play, but a kind of theatre jamboree. ‘It’s rather unusual actually,’ says artistic director David MacLennan. ‘I decided that because it’s all about giving writers a platform, rather than commission one play from one writer I decided to commission 40 two-minute plays from 40 writers. We’ve given the umbrella subject of “Glasgow Then and Now”, and it’s a mini play festival.’
The participants are plainly too
numerous to mention, but among the commissioned writers are Daniel Jackson, Liz Lochhead, Alasdair Gray, Gregory Burke, Douglas Maxwell and the father/son combination of David and Davy Anderson. ‘I really wanted to make a statement about how much the writers have made Oran Mor,’ explains MacLennan. ‘It owes a lot of success to designers, producers, actors and so on. They’ve all worked hard and given it their best, but what the place is really about is a platform for new writing.’ (Steve Cramer)
92 THE LIST 23 Sep–7 Oct 2010
PREVIEW NEW WRITING PUNK ROCK King’s Theatre, Edinburgh, Tue 28 Sep–Sat 2 Oct
There’s a great tradition in British theatre of using schools, be they part of the privileged public school system or the local comp, as metaphors for the various ills that have beset the whole country. The latest foray into this territory comes from one of the most gifted and interesting dramatists of recent times, and presents perhaps the most disturbing ‘school play’ for some years. Simon Stephens’ piece, following the stir of interest
created by Pornography and The Sea Wall, centres on a high school shooting, yet it’s the school itself that might surprise audiences. For here, the privileged children of the elite at a grandiose public school are both perpetrators and victims. ‘The idea that a student can attain a gun and bring it into a classroom, as has happened in Scandinavia and the USA, in Britain is a starting point,’ Stephens explains. ‘But setting it in a school that you’d dream of sending your kids to, rather than one you wouldn’t dream of sending your kids to, the idea of seeing a gun in the hand of a white middle-
class boy, rather than a young black teenager off a housing estate is a juxtaposition of imagery that’s interesting to me. ‘We’re used to seeing violence among kids on the
stage, but ordinarily there are equations made between class and violence, or race and religion and violence among young people,’ Stephens explains. ‘But I think that there are more forces that are marginalising and alienating people than class, race or religion. There’s something oddly comforting to a middle-class audience in that. They’re used to violence in a world that doesn’t belong to them. But there are more things that have gone awry in an acute way in our culture than that.’ Part of the problem, Stephens maintains, is the educational system itself. ‘I think if there’s one thing that runs through a lot of my work, from Pornography to The Sea Wall and on to Punk Rock is the possibility of fear, of celebrating the honesty of doubt and embracing ambiguity. Now there’s 14 years of education that posits itself on the idea of there being right and wrong answers, which puts kids under pressure and is very emotionally damaging.’ (Steve Cramer)
REVIEW NEW COMEDY THE CHOOKY BRAE Currently touring throughout Scotland. Seen at Tron Theatre, Glasgow, Wed 8 Sep ●●●●●
It’s a little disconcerting to step out of a balmy late summer’s evening into an auditorium filled with festive songs and walk past a stage set whose centrepiece is a Christmas tree. But then playwright DC Jackson was always going to want to round off his Stewarton trilogy in style, and what better fodder for a sharp- eyed chronicler of small-town life than the one day of the year where families are almost guaranteed to have arguments. Though Jackson’s play is a bare hour-and-a-half there’s enough tension in the Gordon family household to fill twice that length. Dad Gordon has had a stroke; son Barry is unemployed and pining for his ex-girlfriend, and daughter Norma has fallen for neighbourhood smartass Rab, whose brother just happens to be the father of her child. Presiding over this seasonal misery is mum Irene, who is determined to roll out a happy family Christmas at all costs.
The claustrophobic farce is broader and blacker than either of the previous
entries in Jackson’s trilogy, and while it’s great to touch base with Norma, Barry and Rab once again, this instalment lacks the intricacy and wider insight of those earlier works and doesn’t seem a suitably decisive end to the series. The writing still sparkles, though, and it’s the characteristic wit and acute observations of the lines that will stay with you. (Allan Radcliffe)