Cock, Traverse

John is in a gay relationship, but he isn't happy.  He leaves, becomes sexually and emotionally entangled with a woman, but then can't decide between what he had, and what he could have.  Bringing both his potential partners together, he tries to resolve the issue, causing much pain to the others in the process, but can he ever make up his mind?  Does John know who he is, or is that an artificial question put upon him by social mores?

A stripped back performance with no scenery or props, all is suggestion and nuance.  Other than the lead the characters are anonymous, being known simply as M for Man, W for Woman, and F for Father (the father of the Man joins the party to add his wisdom and emotional baggage to the melee).  Breaks between scenes are enhanced by dance routines that heighten the sense of insecurity and uncertainty, further revealing the gaps in understanding that the conversations throw up.

Although John's dilemma over the nature of his sexuality is a core theme, and highlights the pressures we create through binary models of expectation, and the prejudices of society against anything perceived as being outside the norm, the overall themes are more universal.  This is about the difficulties people experience in making any significant changes to their lives, the comfort of the known versus the excitement of the new, and the internal dialogues we indulge in to try and overcome our fear of uncertainty.  It's about how we form, maintain and end relationships and the hurt we can cause in the process when we blunder through our own and others emotional landscapes.  And it's about the sensation and irrationality of love and passion and our inability to make sense of what can be the most overpowering emotions we ever experience.

For such a sexually charged performance it's remarkable that only once did two actors actually come into physical contact with one another, and then only briefly.  There is one of the most erotic sex scenes I've witnessed on stage, yet both actors simply stood facing the audience, side by side, and narrated their own sensations and words during the act.  A tribute to the high quality of the acting, writing and direction.  There are four strong performances and I particularly liked Johnny McKnight as Man, with the manic intensity of a very camp Rik Mayall.

Despite the depth of the emotions on view, and the anger and frustration that's often present, there are plenty of laugh out loud moments to relieve the pressure.  I think it would have been interesting to poll the audience immediately afterwards to find which character they felt most sympathy for, with the results varying widely depending on people's own experiences in life.  A solid case could be made for any one of the four.  Personally, and speaking as a serial procrastinator, I felt for John amid the pressures from all sides telling him to decide what shape of peg he was so he could be slotted into the board of life.

Enjoyable, compelling, thought provoking, life affirming.  Highly recommended.

Rob Heron and the Tea Pad Orchestra, Traverse

An old time Country and Blues and Western and Boogie Woogie band, committed to playing the music of America's past.  And all the way over here from the North of England.  Still, the music's the real thing, isn't it?  Well, sort of....  Although there a few old-time numbers thrown into the mix, most of the songs come from Heron himself and it's the clever arrangements, and their obvious love for the genre, that give the performance a thirties sound.

Led by Rob on lead vocals and rhythm guitar, the rest of the five piece band play double bass, lead guitar, piano accordion and mandolin/banjo/harmonica (there's usually a drummer too, but he was otherwise occupied).  They look young, they look the part, and, as one of the songs states, just because they've never been to Tennessee doesn't mean they can't honky tonk with the best of them.

With two albums behind them, and another recorded and due for release this June, they have a good catalogue of songs to call upon.  There's a few slow numbers, but for the most part the repertoire is upbeat, catchy and fun.  Which sums the band up well, for it's always good to watch a group of musicians who so obviously enjoy what they do.  The lyrics frequently surprise, with modern topics addressed.  You don't expect a Woody Guthrie style protest song to be about HS2!

Heron isn't a natural raconteur, but does a good job of providing fillers between numbers that are both informative and amusing.  He's a very likeable stage presence, and has a strong and adaptable voice that fits the music perfectly.  Musically the whole band is tight, accomplished and imaginative, with solos, even from the bass, never flagging.  Whilst there were no weak links, the stand out for me was the shimmering harmonica accompaniment and solos from Tom Cronin.

Finishing on a singalong atheist gospel song was the perfect way to end the set.  If you like good-time, toe-tapping rhythms and a fresh take on some classic music styles, all delivered with exuberance and quality musicianship, then Heron and his men will not disappoint.

The Secret Sex Life of Robert Burns, Storytelling Centre

Adapted for the stage from a radio show of the same name, we were provided with music, drama, narrations and a good number of laughs.  After a few tunes on the lowland bagpipes the action commenced.  The writer, Keara Murphy, provided narration from the side of the stage, and took a couple of parts in the action.

It tells the story of some of the many women Burns seduced during his all too short life, concentrating on four who left pregnant, plus a poignant retrospective on life from his long suffering and inspirational wife, Jean Armour.  The poet found himself on the wrong end of kirk sermons many a time, but never seemed to care much about the words.  the lassies meant too much to him.

Leading the dramatic action Martin Haddow delivers a convincing Burns, with the requisite mix of swagger, sensuality, laddishness and lyricism.  Backing him up in the many female roles are three actors, with Trish Mullin the standout, especially as the widowed Armour.  There's plenty of humour in the tale, and some insights into Burns' life if you aren't familiar with the story.

An enjoyable evening.

Scot:Lands, Edinburgh Old Town

A brilliantly simple idea, brilliantly executed.  Now in it's third year, Scot:Lands is a varied selection of cultural events taking place around Edinburgh's Old Town on the afternoon of January the First.  Mostly musical in nature, there is also storytelling, puppetry, dance, film and visual arts.

You have to book well in advance, but tickets are free.  Turn up at Edinburgh University's Old College and join a long, snaking queue that gets moved on surprisingly quickly.  Indoors, upstairs, and you eventually get allocated to someone with a wheel in front of them.  Spin the arrow in the centre and see which 'land' you're off to.  As simple as that.

There are ten lands, each with their own theme, and I guess it might be possible to pay a visit to each one within the four hour period when they're running, but I doubt you'd actually see much.  Better to see where fortune takes you and if you find something that holds you then stay on.

This time we only got to three of the venues.  Our starting point was Insider:Land, in the Potterow Dome, and curated by the Insider Festival.  In what we hoped wasn't a sign of things to come we arrived just in time to catch the last half of the last song of Findlay Napier's set - a singer/songwriter I've been hoping to see some time after enjoying his album so much last year.  But our disappointment was only temporary as he was succeeded by Edinburgh singer/songwriter Blue Rose Code, aka Ross Wilson.  Bouncing with enthusiasm and with an engaging personality, Wilson delivered four very varied songs with Ghosts of Leith the standout number for me.

Moving on we again spun the wheel to see where we headed next.  This took us to Light:Land in the Storytelling Centre on the High Street.  On this occasion our timing was excellent and within minutes we were down in the theatre to see top Scottish Folk band Malinky perform for over half an hour.  Some great traditional material, beautifully played and sung, with a bit of a singalong included.

On the move again to what would prove our final destination.  There was one band we really wanted to see and we got our way (it helps if, while you're having a chat with the person behind the wheel, your spouse nudges the arrow into the desired location!).  Blazin':Land was in the lovely space of Greyfriars Kirk and featured Rachel Sermanni, Adam Holmes and, surprise, surprise, Blazin' Fiddles.  We got in just in time to see a short set by each of the aforementioned singer/songwriters (there's a theme here, isn't there....) before the band took to the stage.  If you don't know of BF they consist of a very talented guitarist, an equally able keyboard player, and four of the best fiddlers in Scotland.  Whilst their virtuoso work is to be admired, what they're most renowned for is a bit of frenzy whipping.  Fast, rousing tunes that get an audience bouncing around.  A fabulously rowdy set went on well past five o'clock and any post-Hogmanay cobwebs were well and truly blown away.

A great start to the year.

Doctor Zhivago

Less a review, more a retrospective.  Fifty years on from it's release it was good to have a chance to revisit this epic on the big screen.  David Lean always had an eye for stunning images and his work benefits from being seen outside the confines of the TV.  And, at three hours in length, a bit of comfort is required too.

So much has been written about this work in the past five decades that there seems little point in attempting to relate the plot.  Based on the Boris Pasternak novel, the film concentrates largely on the romantic tale of Zhivago (Omar Sharif) and Lara (Julie Christie), largely glossing over the complex political undertones of the original.

The early dialogue seems stilted, dated, and only begins to work more effectively when the plot moves on from the Imperial world of the Tsar and into the Soviet era of Lenin.  Both geographically and socially the action travels across distance and into extremes. Where there is violence, inevitably commonplace in setting of war, revolution and counter revolution, there is little that would be considered graphic by today's standards, with suggestion playing a greater role.

However it's the Sharif/Christie pairing that dominates ones memories of the film.  She can be less than convincing at times, but they must be one of the most beautiful screen couples of all time.  The eyes have it.  His, mournful, bloodshot and brown, hers a luminous blue, the eyes of lovers.  Add in the haunting tune that is Lara's Theme and it's impossible not to swept up in the passion of the affair.  Strong performances too from Tom Courtenay, Rod Steiger and Geraldine Chaplin.

This being Lean, there are some glorious shots throughout.  Horizon seeking landscapes, a train traveling through the snow, a sunset in the mountains, the drama of Strelnikov's armoured train thundering past.  But my favourite, the image that remained, was off Zhivago slowly walking off and up the steps in a deserted field hospital while, in the foreground, the petals fall from a vase of sunflowers put in place by the recently departed Lara.

A thing of beauty, even if lightweight.  It's left me with a resolution to revisit the Pasternak original in 2016.

Carol

The 1950s was not a decade noted for tolerance.  And in the USA of McCarthyism it wasn't just any hint of left wing politics which was viewed with suspicion, but anything which might mark a person out as 'other', anyone who strayed outwith the social norms deemed to be acceptable behaviour.  To be gay in such a narrow minded society required a degree of courage and the ability to camouflage oneself within the bounds of what would be tolerated.  

Therese (Rooney Mara) is a young woman working behind the toy counter of a New York department store.  She has a boyfriend who wants her to marry him, but she's not so sure.  Enter Carol (Cate Blanchett), a glamorous older woman, clearly wealthy, who is immediately taken with the shop assistant.  She buys an expensive Xmas present for her daughter, and contrives to ensure that she and Therese will meet again.

What begins as a friendship develops into a full blown love affair, culminating in a long road trip.  This is ended by the sordid intervention of a private investigator hired by Carol's husband to garner evidence of her moral laxity, which is then to be used to give him custody of the child as part of a divorce settlement.  Carol returns to the city to defend what few rights the law affords her, and appeal to her spouse's better nature.

A bereft Therese builds a career as a photographer and gradually comes to accept that Carol will not be a part of her life.  This expectation is confounded when the older woman finally gets her divorce settlement and Therese has to decide where her future lies.

In essence this a conventional love story at heart.  But portrayed with such attention to the details of the period, both physically and morally, that it sweeps the viewer along into their world.  There's some fine cinematography, and the direction is assured, but it's the performances that dominate.  Blanchett and Rooney make for a charismatic leading duo, romantic but never overly sentimental.  There are some lovely supporting roles, notably Kyle Chandler portraying Carol's husband as a man confused by his own emotions and the social expectations he cleaves to.

Highly recommended.

Tracks of the Winter Bear, Traverse

Two acts, two authors, two very different playlets, but with common themes and references.

Act 1 tells the story of a doomed relationship in reverse.  Shula is trying to shake off the ghost of her lover, and her story winds back through significant moments in their relationship.  Along the way she receives well meant advice from strangers, who never quite hit the mark with their words, but emphasise how hard it is to communicate with someone whose reason for communicating has gone.

There are some great one liners, and several Edinburgh in-jokes, but the focus is always on Deborah Arnott's Shula, a study in pain and grief and the tragedy of being an outsider, but who lights up when the love of her life is realised, and is still able to find a form of hope and a road back from despair.

From the very real life of the opener, the second act moves into a playful, allegorical fantasy.  In a Highland winter theme park Jackie, a disenchanted Mother Christmas, becomes entwined with an escaped polar bear.  A bear that can talk in both it's own voice, and that of the people it has eaten.  A bear that craves love, with a woman who has turned her back on it.

Together they go on a journey, back to Jackie's home in Abbeyhill, and face up to their own fears.  When they part there is, as in Act 1, enough hope in the air for them to find their own ways in recognising their own needs.  The humour is dark, often hilarious, and the script moves at a goodly pace.  Kathryn Howden is a wonderfully world weary Jackie, full of wisecracks and cynicism.  But it's Caroline Deyga's Bear that's the star turn of the night.  Worried, worrying, companionable, terrifying, an echo chamber of human fears and heartaches, she is a powerful presence on stage.

An unusual stage at that, with audience lined up on two sides of the raised and rolling platform, yet another aspect of the duality that runs through the performance.

Both acts have strongly distinctive identities, but both feature love lost, love missed, love unclaimed.  Love accepted, enjoyed, powerful.  And polar bears.

A heartwarming way to pass a winter evening.