Theatre
PREVIEW NEW WORK MEDEA Citizens Theatre, Glasgow, Thu 27 Sep–Sat 13 Oct
Mike Bartlett has gained a reputation as one of Britain’s most exciting young playwrights, with original plays like Love, Love, Love and Cock. But in 2012, he’s been focusing on adapted works: first with his stage version of Chariots of Fire, which opened at the Hampstead Theatre in May, and now with a contemporary take on Medea, which premieres at the Citizens Theatre this month and is co-produced by acclaimed theatre company Headlong. This project wasn’t born out of a deep-seated love
for Greek drama; instead, Bartlett was attracted to the adaptation precisely because of his previous aversion to the form. ‘I’ve seen quite a few classical plays but always been strangely unmoved by them,’ he explains. ‘I didn’t know whether they were authentically Greek or whether they were a classical British version of that.’
Writing and directing Medea has helped Bartlett overcome some of these issues. ‘I think translations of Greek Drama should be more bold,’ he says. ‘If you’re going from Ancient Greek to modern English, that’s a huge jump. And you might as well reflect that also in the way in which you stage a play.’
In Bartlett’s production, Medea – played by Olivier Award nominee and Tipping the Velvet star Rachael Stirling – is a modern single mother who’s been left by her husband and can’t cope. And it’s the timelessness of Euripides’ storyline that spoke loudest to the writer. ‘I only want to make work that speaks to people
now,’ says Bartlett, ‘and you don’t really need to know anything about Ancient Greek theatre to enjoy it. I actually felt that a lot of the discussions about gender politics in Medea, you don’t need to update those. You just put them straight in and they feel exactly like the things that people are talking about now.’ (Yasmin Sulaiman)
N A W N E K - A G Y M M O T
REVIEW NEW WORK MY SHRINKING LIFE Touring Scotland until Sat 6 Oct. Seen at Tron Theatre, Glasgow, Wed 12 Sep ●●●●●
PREVIEW CLASSIC THE CONE GATHERERS Theatre Royal, Glasgow, Tue 25–Sat 29 Sep and touring throughout Scotland until Sat 27 Oct REVIEW NEW WORK WONDERLAND Tramway, Glasgow, Tue 25–Sat 29 Sep; seen at Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh, Wed 29 Aug ●●●●●
The stage is vaguely medical, institutional and scuffed. Behind a curtained window we peep into a glamorous dressing room. Alison Peebles was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2001 and My Shrinking Life is a theatrical account of what one of the other characters calls, at one toe-curling point, her ‘little naughty nervous system disorder’. In the hands of Marmite Belgian director Lies Pauwels, this is jump-cut, disordered, impressionistic; the very opposite of the consciousness-raising issue-based community piece. The ghastly practicalities, the patronising, the constant, grating offers of help, are almost thrown away in favour of a more existential approach.
Three gorgeous, lithe, young actors and a little girl represent Peebles at earlier stages of her life. She is a constant presence, sometimes grumpy, sometimes bored, watching their histrionics with eyebrows raised. A wheelchair waiting ominously in the corner
represents the next stage, the high heels she can no longer wear are the past. Sadly, there is no happy ending. (Anna Burnside)
106 THE LIST 20 Sep–18 Oct 2012
Following their adaptations of Sunset Song and The Silver Darlings, Aberdeen Performing Arts are taking Robin Jenkins great Scottish novel to the stage. Focusing on two brothers and the devastating effect they have on gamekeeper Duror, the story challenges the way we classify good and evil. ‘It’s like he wakes up one morning and thinks, “everything I’ve done my entire life is shit,”’ says Tom McGovern of his deeply damaged character, Duror. A man terrified of abnormality, he considers hunchbacked brother Calum an enormous threat to his ordered world. ‘This didn’t happen overnight,’ explains McGovern, ‘Calum is a catalyst and we join him [Duror] in this carnage and destruction.’
Jenkins’ original story is rife with Biblical allusions
(‘something I learned and then unlearned,’ states McGovern), from the Garden of Eden-like forest to Duror’s supposedly evil doings. ‘He’s not such a hateful character as he appears
to be,’ argues McGovern. ‘We join him on a downwards spiral, we’re talking about mental illness here. There are things we can recognise in ourselves. I do feel for him.’ (Kirstyn Smith)
Vanishing Point’s latest production finds the Glasgow-based theatre company in combative form, delving into pornography’s seedy demi-monde and confronting audiences with their own desire for erotic titillation. Despite some stylish moments, however, the company’s conclusions are largely trite and, ultimately, the piece is disappointingly unengaging.
The most serious problem is a lack of characterisation. Paul Thomas Hickey’s John, an ordinary husband and father with a growing compulsion for increasingly depraved porn, is only portrayed in snapshot, making any emotional identification virtually impossible. Adult film actress Alice (Jenny Hulse), when not in character as the brutalised Heidi, is either in a state of agitation or presenting an emotionless facade. Matthew Lenton’s production is admittedly visually striking and there’s a spot-on pastiche of a one-to-one webcam chat that is by turns grotesquely funny and pathetic. Currently, though, the piece feels slight, a disjointed collage of images and half-explored ideas. (Allan Radcliffe)