Thursday 23 November 2017

The Weir Sisters, Oran Mor, Glasgow

Margaret and Grace are excited that they can finally hold that eagerly anticipated welcome party for their sister Dorothy.  Grace had died aged 22, Margaret at 63, and they've had to wait a long time for the 97 year old.  And this is the Afterlife.

These two are old hands here, so they know their newly arrived sibling will be feeling disoriented at first, and argue about the best ways to help her acclimatise, and to realise who they are.  Are Vera Lynn and sausage rolls really the best options?

When Dorothy finally walks through the gates she is old, cranky and confused.  It takes a big effort from the others to get through the fog and rejuvenate their sister.  Along the way each talks about their own death, and the sadness of the backstories that led to them.  Bad marriages, domestic violence, lack of opportunity - the limitations placed on the lives of 20th century women.  Women who earn a qualification in coping.

It's all a bit rushed at first, the scene setting crammed into the first ten minutes, but that reflects the limitations of a 50 minute drama trying to tackle some big themes.  The performances manage to overcome these doubts, Meghan Tyler's Grace a mix of regret and optimism, Sandra McNeeley is a cynical, funny and damaged Margaret, while Deborah Arnott is excellent as the grumpy pensioner, but smartly casts off that prickly carapace to emerge into her sad but reasonable middle aged past.

There are a lot of laughs, as you'd expect from a write of Lynn Ferguson, but complemented by some heartbreaking monologues as each sister revisits the sources of their sadness.  And Dorothy has a great line taking a dig at the modern resurgence of fascism, which she thought she'd seen off in 1945.

Entertaining, with more to chew on than your average short play.  Highly recommended.

Molsky's Mountain Drifters, Traverse

One of America's greatest fiddlers is back with a new trio and a fresh take on country and bluegrass music.  Alongside Bruce Molsky are banjo player Allison de Groot and guitarist Stash Wyslouch, both from a much younger generation but hugely talented.

The set has a mix of songs and tunes, old time music and some recent compositions.  Molsky has a decent enough voice, as has Wyslouch, neither being that memorable, but at their best singing together where the harmonies worked well.  De Groot only got the one lead vocal, but further contributions would have been welcome as her voice had a lot of character.

No such comments can be made about the musicianship and arrangements, which constantly highlighted the variations and virtuosity on offer.  Lots of variety in tempo, with plenty of fast stuff to get the feet tapping, and some audience participation.  They're an amusing bunch too, with plenty of laughs in the introductions and a clear sense of fun within the band.  No doubt there would have been a bit of dancing too, but there was no room on offer in a packed out Traverse bar.  Molsky has a big following and with good reason.  This trio simply confirms his status as one of the best musicians in America.

This is Our Land (Chez Nous), French Film Festival, Filmhouse

Pauline is a home-visit nurse in a town in the Pas-de-Calais, well known and respected by the local community, but struggling to keep up with the demands of her life, which include two young children and her ill and uncooperative father.

Change arrives in the shape of Stephane, a boyfriend from her schooldays, who gets on well with her kids, but has his own dark secrets to hide.  And the friendly smile of old family doctor, Berthier, who sounds her out about standing for mayor.  He is a prominent member of the RNP, a nationalist party claiming to be "neither left nor right", who are looking for a candidate who can project the right kind of "one of us" image they think will appeal to voters.  Pauline has her doubts, but is persuaded she's the right person for the role, that she'll be able to bring change to the community she sees suffering so many problems.

She's even courted by Agnes Dorgelle, the RNP's leader, and gradually comes round to the idea.  Previously apolitical, but instinctively of the left, she's convinced she can do some good.  Only to find the reality to be very different, and she's to become a puppet for a set of reactionary policies she wants no part of.

Director Lucas Belvaux made the film in a very brief period, and it was released shortly before this year's presidential election.  So it's no coincidence we see the blonde daughter of a previous leader, trying to distance herself from his fascist past, yet pursuing the same political path but with better PR.  It's a stark warning against the dangers of a resurgent populist neofascism that has gained traction all over Europe, and claimed the US presidency.  France managed to avoid that fate, but Agnes and the RNP, aka Le Pen and the FN, came far closer than was comfortable.

It's hard to believe that the otherwise pragmatic Pauline falls for this con trick, but so many have that it may be truer than it seems.  Plus there seems to be a bit of over reliance on coincidence to keep the plot moving.  But these are minor quibbles, and this a movie that's well worth the watch.  Emilie Dequenne is a compelling everywoman as the nurse, and Catherine Jacob's Agnes is perfect at delivering Le Pen's faux charisma and calculating ambition.

In a Q&A after the film Belvaux said that everything he portrayed was based on real events, sometimes toned down to make it less incredible.  And that the Front National did an excellent job of promoting the film.  They were so irritated that they orchestrated the placement of several hundred negative reviews from 'members of the public' - but several days before the film had actually been released!  Fascists aren't always the brightest....

Sunday 12 November 2017

Urban Folk Quartet, Atkinson, Southport

It's Folk Jim, but not as we know it.  Their rhythmic  inspirations, and even some of the material, might be drawn from traditional music, but the treatment is unique, and the result is innovative and exciting.  They might be an English (and Spanish) group, but their influences comer from all over the British Isles, Europe, America, India....

While all four take their turn in introducing numbers, and all can be very funny, the undoubted leader is Joe Broughton, a virtuoso fiddler who turns his quick hands to guitar, mandolin and a bit of percussion.  Also on fiddle, and an occasional turn at lead vocals, is Paloma Trigas from Galicia, while most of the singing duties fall to Dan Walsh, one of the world's great banjo players who also does his fair share of guitar work.  Completing the line up is percussionist Tom Chapman.

Walsh has an enjoyable voice, and Trigas contributed a beautiful song in Spanish, but it's the quality of the musicianship and the imaginative arrangements that are UFQ's USP.  Duelling fiddles, driving guitar, rapid fire banjo.  How often do you get to hear a banjo sound like a sitar, or a line up of 3 percussionists and one banjo?  It's constantly surprising and unpredictable music from a group of people who clearly love playing together and communicate that joy to their audience.

Underlying all the melodic fireworks, and, for me, the key to the UFQ sound, is the remarkable playing of Chapman.  From his small, eclectic set up he throws out surprising beats that change, blend, strengthen and invigorate the stringed instruments, more akin to jazz drumming than conventional folk or rock.  And he plays a mean djembe.

Even as subdued an audience as this one were on their feet by the end and dancing along to the energetic encore.  UFQ are not to be missed.

Friday 3 November 2017

The Death of Stalin

A comedy certainly, but very much of the black variety.  It's 1953, Stalin is found unconscious in his bedroom, and dies shortly after.  Which opens the door to the other members of the Central Committee to start jockeying for position and take what power they can, while Svetlana and Vasily, Stalin's children, face an uncertain future.

Initially the leadership falls to Malenkov, Stalin's nominated deputy, but it soon becomes clear that he's week, unable to form alliances.  Beria holds the strongest cards (he controls the NKVD, the secret police), is quickest off the mark in staking his territory, and quickly demonstrates his ruthlessness.  Khruschev is the peacemaker, looking to build up the relationships which we already know will see him ultimately succeed.  The others eye each other warily, or bluster to cover their own fears, but lack the determination to get the top job.  The action ends only a few weeks after Stalin's death, but the winners and losers are starting to be obvious already.

It might be a comedy, but the horror of the Stalinist regime is all there.  The indiscriminate arrests, torture and murder of anyone who gets on the wrong side of the authorities is a constant background theme,  Beria casually walks along discussing lists of victims while all around him people are being beaten and shot.  Right from the start the fear is there, when Stalin calls a concert hall to ask the radio director to send him a recording of that evening's orchestral performance.  Rather than admit that no recording was made the director forces the musicians and audience to sit through it all again, clearly terrified of the consequences for him if no record is available for the dictator.

Like that scene, the comedy comes less from the lines themselves (although Paul Whitehouse's Mikoyan gets some crackers), and mostly from the ridiculous antics of the central characters, all the mental gymnastics, fallacious logic, lies and self deception needed to remain a part of the upper echelon of the political system.  They scheme, manipulate, back down, change allegiances, anything to secure their own futures.  It's a steroidal, and potentially deadly, version of the power games played out on any committee or group where people are out for what they can get.

Simon Russell Beale is a great Beria, callous, conniving, terrifying when he needs to be, while Steve Buscemi plays Khruschev as a much smoother character, patient, clever and ready to play the long game.  There are standout performances from Andrea Riseborough as the tyrant's daughter, struggling to come to terms with the new reality, Michael Palin as the bend-with-the-wind Molotov, and, my personal favourite, Jason Isaacs clearly having tremendous fun as the forceful man of action, General Zhukov.

There aren't a lot of strong images, but it's a film strong on atmosphere, with plenty of background showing the horrors of a totalitarian state.  It probably helps the viewer if they know a little about the real life characters, but it's not essential to enjoying the film.  And, despite the dark subject matter, it's a very successful comedy.

But a  comedy with a chilling edge

#71 (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

Chrissy's struggling.  She still misses her deceased husband, and her fibromyalgia is getting worse.  So she's made a big decision, and has asked her two oldest friends round to share it with them.  Trouble is, they've never been able to stand each other, so will they be able to come together for Chrissy's sake?

Jean's an archetypal wee Glesgae wifie, staunch catholic and mistress of the unintentional malapropism.  Coco is flamboyant, pretentious, and strives for her very own 'je ne sais quoi'.  Chalk and cheese.

There's a bit of a mystery to be revealed, a bit of the past to be explored, but the storyline gets disjointed at times and doesn't stand up to much analysis as a coherent plot.  It has the feel of an extended sketch rather than a full blown drama.  This isn't a play that leaves you pondering the meaning of life.

In recompense it's just one laugh after another, with some hilarious wordplay, and a number of throwaway lines you have to be alert to catch on to.  There's a moment of some tenderness towards the end, but the emphasis is very much on comedy, and it delivers as sheer entertainment.

Maureen Carr gives the standout performance as Jean, although she also gets most of the best lines (like the time she went to church and suddenly had an eppy fanny....), and a surprisingly excellent grime rendition.  Claire Waugh is a less convincing Coco, an unlikely septuagenarian, but does a nice line if faux superiority.  And Karen Dunbar, who also wrote the script, is suitably frustrated by the inability of the others to stop bickering and listen to her news.

Not the most memorable play in the P, P and P series, but one of the funniest, and that's no bad thing, is it?