Fahrenheit 11/9

Michael Moore's latest documentary looks at the threats posed by the rise of Trump and the hard right faction in US politics, and the long term damage that is doing both to democracy and to the lives of many of the people of the country.  Starting with the disbelief that a ridiculous reality TV star could ever become the most powerful man in the world he shows why Trump found himself taking on the presidential race and how he, and others, made him become accepted as a real contender.  Corruption, greed, petulance and narcissism are all there, but more worryingly so too is a disdain for human rights.

Moore switches between the macro view at federal level down to some more local issues that highlight how cancerous these sort of politics are to democracy at all levels.  In Michigan a governor who runs the state like a business refuses to address the poisons in the water supply to the city of Flint where the levels of lead in children shoot up.  That it's a majority black city looks to be a factor in his refusal to act.  It takes grassroots activism and trade unions to get anything done.

After the Parkland school shooting many of the survivors took up the cause of gun control and stood up against the Trump rhetoric, in a way their elders were failing to do.  It might not have achieved much in reality, but Moore sees them, and the Flint activists as beacons of hope for the future.

And Moore doesn't spare the Democrats in his critique, looking at the corruption of the Clintons, and how Obama failed the people of Flint in their fight for justice.  These are the kind of actions that disenchant voters from the political process, opening the way to populists who promise the earth.  Through Moore's eyes they emerge almost as culpable as the real villains.

But the focus always returns to Trump.  Disdaining any accusations of Godwinism Moore lays out the clear similarities and parallels between Trumpism and Germany of the thirties, with chilling results.  As is the list of fellow sexual predators the POTUS has associated with, not forgetting the shadowy creepiness of Steve Bannon.

If at times the editing feels a bit piecemeal it's not enough to prevent this from being a film that needs to be widely viewed as a work of importance for our times.  Two hours long, it never fails to keep your attention, and in typical Moore style mixes scenes to make the blood boil with moments of black humour.  Unmissable.

Talisk, Traverse

One number into the set and we had Mohsen Amini telling us that Glaswegians Talisk are not a band to be quietly listened to, sat passively receiving.  They wanted the audience to join in, clap along, whoop and get up and jig about a bit.  Fortunately they have the music, and in Amini the personality, for that to feel like the natural response.

This tour marks the launch of their second full album (there's an EP as well), now with new guitarist Graeme Armstrong joining Hayley Keenan on fiddle and the bubbling, animated Amini on concertina.  Still young, they already have an impressive array of awards and are building up a strong back catalogue of tunes.  Very much traditional musicians, but with a modern approach to composition and arrangements.  There's plenty sensitivity in their playing on the slower numbers, but it's the energy and pace of the fast stuff that raises the excitement levels and gets the crowd obeying the aforementioned instructions.  The first three sets are enough to get the audience stomping, clapping, crying out and having a bloody good time.

Armstrong is the steady beat of the group.  He may lack the imaginative rhythmic complexity you'll find from the likes of Kris Drever or Jen Butterworth, but his playing solidly underpins the fireworks of the other two, and he has his moments of taking the melodic lead.  Keenan is a big talent and a great visual counterfoil to Amini.  No matter how fast her fingers are leaping across the strings she always looks calm, unruffled, a beatific smile looking back at her audience.  While beside her the concertina player is a passionate bundle of life, a controlled frenzy that leaves him and us breathless.

They play a mix of their own tunes and other modern stuff, with little traditional material, and material from the new album is evidence that their musical thinking has moved on and a wider range of influences are pushing the arrangements into new territory, with plenty of moments of the unexpected.  Criticisms?  Hard to find.  In the high notes of some slower pieces the fiddle and concertina had moments of discordant screeching, but that's about it.

Amini has developed into a natural frontman, with a fund of daft stories and a clear desire to build a relationship with his listeners.  The audience had a singing role on new tune Farewell and he showed hi ability to get everyone on side when teaching us the 'words'  (it was all aaahs!).  And he got his wish, with everyone on their feet for the encore.  Like he said, this isn't music to listen to quietly, and talisk like to share their passion.

Eddi Reader, Atkinson, Southport

Support came from Brummie singer/songwriter Dan Whitehouse (who I last saw with Boo Hewerdine) with a selection of his own material.  Intriguing lyrics sung in his gentle breathless voice backed with well worked layered guitar playing.  An effective warm up act, personable, amusing, with clear potential.  It would be good to see him fronting a band.

Eddi blew in, as ever, like a whimsical force of nature.  Her fans adore her, and rightly so, for she is a star with no side to her, no pretensions and full of human warmth.  The band seem pretty fond of her too, and they're an impressive bunch in their own right.

Longstanding members of Team Reader, Boo Hewerdine on guitar and vocals, Alan Kelly on piano accordion and Eddi's spouse John Douglas on guitar, ukulele and vocals form the backbone of the line up.  They were joined by John's brother Stephen on drums, the ever reliable Kevin McGuire on electric double bass, Steve Hamilton on keyboards and the impressive Steph Geremia on flute, whistles, sax, vocals and red wine.  All had a chance to show off their skills at some point in the evening, notably Kelly leading a wild and rousing instrumental, Hewerdine's vocals on his own song Patience of Angels, and John Douglas' atmospheric ukulele on Fairground Attraction.

But, for all Reader's generosity towards her colleagues, it's herself that can't help but dominate proceedings.  The voice continues to be majestic, soaring across the octaves with ease and capable of the most extraordinary high notes.  Technical abilities aside, its her inventiveness that marks out the Reader live act, so that even a weel kent standard like Perfect is still able to surprise and delight - even some band members judging from their expressions.  In between songs she's raconteur, comedian, friend to all, your favourite eccentric auntie.  Each number has a personal connection, lovingly explained.

The set is a mix of half a dozen or so songs from her new album Cavalier, established favourites from her Fairground Attraction days and extensive back catalogue of solo albums, and her act as Auntie Jeannie, fag in hand, entertaining a tenement party with her hilarious rendition of Moon River.  Styles range across folk, jazz, pop, rock and blues, Reader and band equally adept at all.  It's a joyous, uplifting, emotional and foot tapping experience, and if there's any criticism it's that the 10pm deadline rushed up all too quickly.  Both audience and band looked as if they could have gone for so much longer.

If you've not yet experienced an Eddi Reader gig - why not?

The Last Picture Show (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

The Great War is finally over and Bob (Matthew Tomlinson) is back in Dunoon, staying with his granny.  Before he was sent to the trenches he had played piano in the Glasgow picture houses, often accompanying his great hero, Charlie Chaplin.  He'd love to go back to that old life, and the Dunoon picture house has a pianist vacancy, but Bob's come blinded by gas, and how can you play accompanying music to a film you can't see?

Switching scenes between trench life, military hospital, a French billet and the postwar Clyde town, this is an affecting portrait of the fate of a generation decimated by needless conflict, of lifes destroyed and distorted by war.  There's songs, Chaplin film footage and soldiers dealing with death, injury, French locals and nurses, plus a very enthusiastic cinema manager.  It's cleverly structured, switching easily between time and place, with a smart use of props and audiovisuals, and swift costume changes.  Tomlinson is supported by Matthew Campbell, who plays wartime comrade Billy and Dunoon teenager Willie, the latter proving to be the lifeline he needs when he comes home, and by Helen McAlpine as the cinema manager, nurse, Frenchwoman and youngster who takes fright at the sight of Bob's masked appearance. 

Tomlinson shows himself to be a competent musician and singer, and looks at ease in the role of Bob.  I did feel both Matthews were guilty of under acting at times, failing to deliver the full pathos the writing deserved, but work well together inthe closing scene.  McAlpine is superb, bringing life to all her roles, and she does a mean Charlie Chaplin impersonation.  There are plenty of funny moments and she makes the best of them.

Overall this is a tremendous 50 minute drama, a fitting centenary piece, and a strong finale to this season of A Play, a Pie and a Pint.

The Wife

Joe Castlemain (Jonathan Pryce) receives a phone call telling him he's being awarded the 1992 Noble Prize for Literature.  Cue joyous dancing with wife Joan (Glenn Close) as they look forward to their trip to Stockholm in December.  But at a party to celebrate his achievement, and in their private life, it's clear there are strong undercurrents in this relationship of thirty odd years to suggest all is not what it appears on the surface.

Most of the action takes place in Sweden, where the author is feted and photographed and fawned over, his spouse content to stay out of the spotlight.  She even tells him, firmly, not to thank her in his acceptance speech.  While son David (Max Irons), also a writer, looks uncomfortable just to be there.  Joe is a narcissistic bully, a womaniser, frequently cocky about his success, and you begin to wonder what keeps this marriage together.  The reasons emerge as the plot twist becomes clear, sped along by Joe's wannabe biographer, the intrusive Nathaniel Bone (Christian Slater).  Bone probes Joan for the secrets in her marriage, but, despite a few indiscretions, her loyalty to Joe remains intact.

There's a strong and timely feminist message to this movie that largely redeems the few flaws.  A few plot inconsistencies lurk, and visually it's a disappointment.  While the emphasis is on the Joe/Joan relationship, and necessarily claustrophobic at times, little effort has gone into creating something of beauty, despite having the backdrop of a snow covered Stockholm to play with.  The director has decided that, if in doubt, go for the Close up, and that can get a bit repetitive.

Pryce gives a solid performance, maybe not his best but he does a good job of combining charm with egotistical  insecurity.  Irons and Slater put a lot into what little they've been given.  But this, as the title suggests, is all about Close, and she is magnificent.  She must already be an Oscar frontrunner.  It's a beautifully modulated performance of slow burning anger, repression and sharp intelligence.  I mentioned the frequency of the long studies of Close's face as a minor criticism in visual terms, but certainly not in the acting stakes.  Her expressions are a masterclass in minimalist communication of emotion and never fail to move the plot along, sometimes in unexpected directions.

Well worth seeing for the lessons in the awfulness of patriarchy and a wonderful Close encounter.

It Wisnae Me (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

A forensic examination of Scotland's complicity in the history of African slavery doesn't sound the most promising subject for an entertaining hour at lunchtime, but Alan Bissett's script pulls it off brilliantly.  From a Space Odyssey pastiche, through suspect interrogation to a powerful closing statement and plea to remember our real past, it's funny, informative, thought provoking and conscience-tugging.  Three excellent performances too.

Scotland (Ali Watt) is on trial, with England (Andrew John Tait) - as ever - acting as prosecution.  Between them they sketch out, through stereotypes, historical fact, expert witness statements (both contemporary and historical) the creation of the country, the rivalry with our southern neighbour, and the shenanigans and bullying that led to the union.  And how our involvement in slavery went hand in hand with the rest of the European colonialist nations.

This is achieved through a fast paced series of scenes that mix monologue, dialogue, mime and slapstick, but, as so often with our histories, all told through the voices of white men.  Cue "Black Girl" (Danielle Jam) to provide a more meaningful and legitimate view of that past, and for any claim Scotland makes to suffering to be far outweighed by the suffering it inflicted on others.

For a fifty minute play there are an impressive array of issues raised, not least the need for Scotland to take a good look at itself and decide where it needs to go in the future.  But,fittingly, the closing words are given to Jam, the representation for the society we need to be.

Highly recommended.

Tipping the Hat (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

Flanders and Swann were a musical comedy duo who achieved considerable fame in the fifties and sixties, writing and performing comic songs of silliness and satire.
 Written by John Bett, this homage to the pair features a few of their songs, anecdotes that illustrate the nature of their partnership, and tries to convey a sense of the humour they specialised in.  John Jack and Gordon Cree play themselves.  They might be dressed the same as F&S, sing the songs and crack the jokes, but they do so as admirers and not impersonators.  So their Scottish accents feel entirely appropriate in a production that makes the odd nod to the location of the performance.

Kudos to the set designers.  In the bare space that is Traverse 2, and despite keeping things minimalist, they've done a great job of recreating the sumptuousness of the kind of Victorian regional theatres the pair frequently played.  Jack and Cree fit naturally into the roles, both good singers, Cree clearly an excellent pianist, and they bring just the right amounts of daftness, audience interaction and comic timing to give some feel for what a live F&S show might have been like.  Both make the most of the available laughs, and revel in the smart wordplay that was a hallmark of Flanders' lyrics.

I can remember Flanders and Swann on the radio when I was a child, and that they often made me laugh.  But even then they felt like something from the past, out of step with the direction of travel, and that remains a problem for this production.  The humour might be clever, but it's so dated in style, so gentile, that it's hard to find it as funny now as people did back then.  I'd liked to have seen a more adventurous form to the storytelling, giving us more sense of their place in the history of English satire and greater range of the sociopolitical issues they raised in their work.  There was an excellent section of the Beeching rail cuts of the early sixties, and the F&S response, and the show needed more of that, and earlier on, for the first twenty minutes or so dragged a bit.

It is still enjoyable, the performances are first class, and there are things to be learned about the duo and their times.  But not enough for me to make a wholehearted recommendation, and I have to wonder what anyone who'd never heard of F&S before made of the show.  If the script was tilted more towards fact than whimsy this could have been an excellent show.