Man's Best Friend (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 Ronnie is a dog walker.  Not a 'proper' one though.  He's an amateur, taken it on in lockdown as a favour to the neighbours.  Ronnie is looked down on by the real pros.  So he avoids them as best he can and gets on with enjoying the park, and the dogs, and that old feeing of being useful.  But then the day comes when the dogs get the better of him, rush off into the distance, and Ronnie has to set off in pursuit in a panic.  Which takes him out of the moment, where he so much wants to be, and into contemplation of past and future, and the fears that they hold.

A mesmerising solo performance from Jonathan Watson, which switches to and fro from comedy and pathos, immediacy of people and places, and deep emotions.  The humanities and inhumanities (and strong echoes of 'Partygate') of our recent pandemic times are there on display, with both expected and unexpected tragedies, and a strong sense of empathy for the fragility of our mental health.

Watson makes it all feel like a cosy, intimate chat, as if you've met him down the pub and asked him to tell you his story.  It's  all so natural, with a script from Douglas Maxwell which leaves the actor plenty room for a wide variety of emotional deliveries, and a clever set that takes into the outdoors and along wandering pathways.   

The experiences and difficulties of the past couple of years are going to be rich artistic territory for some time to come, and Man's Best Friend is a shining example of the genre.  Highly recommended.

Kris Drever, Brunton Theatre

 At last!  Originally booked for October 2020, this was the sixth time of asking for this pariticualr gig.  

Kris was joined on stage by Euan Burton on double bass, Louis Abbott plying electric guitar, and Rachel Lightbody providing backing vocals.  And how happy they all looked to finally be before an audience in the Brunton.  One thing the pandemic has done for live music has given us all, performers and audiences, a greater appreciation of what we had before it was all taken away, and this was joyfully reflected in the sense of warmth the performance brought to everyone in the auditorium.

Drever has retained his wry sense of humour, but for the most part he lets the music do the talking.  A great selection of songs, old and new, and a chance to show of his finger picking prowess in a guitar version of a Shetland wedding march written for fiddle.  The band brought a freshness to old favourites, with Abbott's guitar work standing out, often adding a jazzy feel and a sense of improvisation, and it was largely his doing that this was the best version of the wonderful Capernum that I've heard to date. Scapa Flow 1919 felt very special, and ending with the haunting relevance of Ghosts was a perfect ending.  

Well worth the wait.

Milkshake (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 Owen (Ewan Miller) is a left wing activist.  Arthur (Richard Conlon) is a Tory MP, the new Minster for Justice.  Taking part in the latter's own system, they have been brought together for a restorative justice session, following Owen's arrest for throwing a strawberry milkshake over Arthur in the street.  The facilitator and witness haven't turned up, but the agenda is there, so they agree to work through it by themselves.  It can't be that difficult, can it?

Two very different personalities, with very different outlooks on the world.  But they find out both love Billy Connolly, so that's a start.  What follows is an impressively deep dissection of political disagreement, considering the limitations of a 50 minute play.  Presumably inspired by the famous Five Guys Milkshake Attack, Arthur is a much more human character than the vile fascist of the real life incident.  He begins as pompous and controlling, but Conlon ensures he gets our sympathies at times, and that there is an underlying complexity to his actions.  Owen is passionate about social justice, but his failings soon appear.  The personal informs the political, guilt is often a powerful motivator, and both characters show their good and bad sides.

Rob Drummond's clever script explores the nature of political disagreement, with a reminder that there are always far more to people's stories than shows on the surface.  With some laughs thrown in to lighten the load (one of Arthur's parting shots is a beauty) and the odd twist in the tale.  Yet another excellent Traverse short, and one of the most thought provoking.

The Duke

 Based on real life events in 1961, this is the story of the eccentric Kempton Bunton (Jim Broadbent) and his trial for the theft of a valuable Goya portrait, of the Duke of Wellington, from the National Gallery in London.   The perpetually unemployable Bunton is a prolific and eternally unpublished playwright, and incorrigible activist, on a very minor scale, for civic justice.  In his battle for free TV licence's for OAPs he is an imaginative and persistent thorn in the side of the authorities, happily risking imprisonment for his cause.  Always left to pick up the pieces is long suffering wife Dorothy (Helen Mirren in repressed and frumpy mode), who despairs of her husband's publicity seeking activities, and yearns to blend into the background of society.  Underlying their relationship is a family tragedy that affects each in different ways.

The efforts of Kempton and son Jackie (Fionn Whitehead) to hide the presence of the painting from Dorothy's eyes, and realise a ransom fee to be used for good causes, move the storyline along, until discovery leads to the return of the masterpiece, the subsequent trial and eventual conclusion.  

A twenty first century Ealing comedy, with script and filming paying homage to the cinematic norms of the sixties.  The characters and relationships are well delineated from the outset, but the middle section lacks any real dramatic tension.  This flaw is amply mitigated by one of the most hilarious court scenes you'll ever see, with Matthew Goode having huge fun as Bunton's suave barrister, and Broadbent showing off his virtuosity in understated comic delivery and timing.  

A genial feelgood movie with a heart warming core of humanity throughout, The Duke is by no means perfect, but that can't detract from a Jim Broadbent masterclass that will leave you smiling.

I'm Dissolving My Love in a Bath of Acid (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 April (Alison O'Donnell) excited, her sister May (Irene Allan) is trepidatious.  David John (Grant O'Rourke) is coming home.  David John has been released on a technicality.  April married David John in prison, despite his being sentenced to life for murdering, and dissolving in acid, several men.  What on earth could a manipulative, vindictive woman be wanting from an easily led serial killer?

Played entirely for laughs, with a script (by O'Donnell's partner, DC Jackson) that begs to be hammed up, IDMLIABOA is a 50 minute feast of fast moving silliness and hilarity.  Running gags, visual gags, one liners, slow burners, the laughs rarely let up.  The scenario is swiftly established, the characters soon delineated, and we're off.  No serious underlying themes, no 'meaning', just a daft romp and all the better for it.  Solid performances from all 3 cast members, but O'Rourke did stand out for his wonderful timing.  Great fun.  

Dean Owens and the Sinners, Voodoo Rooms

It's been a long time delayed, for you-know-what reasons, but finally Owens was able to hold the launch event for his new album, Sinner's Shrine.  In his home town of course, in front of a packed out audience.

Support came from singer/songwriter, and Owens collaborator, Kirsten Adamson, who delivered a good warm up set.  An engaging performer with an excellent voice.

Adamson returned after the interval as backing singer with The Sinners, along with Kevin McGuire on upright bass, Craig Ross on guitar and Neil Weir adding trumpet.  That backing line up varied across the set, but the constant, whether solo or with band, was Dean.  His joy at performing live again was obvious, although he was also less garrulous than usual, letting the music do the talking.  They began with Arizona, first track on the new album, and continued with several other new tracks, Weir adding the necessary Tex-Mex feel that's such a strong feature of the recording.  But also included plenty more familiar material, with Raining in Glasgow the usual crowd-involving highlight.

Owens ability to produce memorable melodies and lyrics is undimmed, and the voice is distinctive and always pleasant.  It was a shame that the sound system didn't always match the band's abilities, with the tone muddied when things got louder, and the mixing seeming uncertain - it was often hard to distinguish between Weir's brass and Ross' strings.  But that did nothing to dampen the atmosphere, which is what live entertainment is all about.  A great night.

Ten Things to do Before Your Die (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 Claire (Dani Heron) is introducing herself to us.  She's a very conventional 29 year old from Paisley.  With one extraordinary element to her life.  She's dying, of an aggressive brain tumour, and now she has to figure out what to do with what's left of her life.  So she does the conventional thing and writes a bucket list.  Going about achieving all the items on her list gives her a set of problems to overcome, to occupy her mind with.  But there are two problems she doesn't know what to do about.  Who's going to look after Milo, her cat, when she's gone?  And how does she break the news to the people closest to her?  How does anyone do that?

With Claire as narrator to her own life, we watch her chase down her ten things, all the while avoiding the big questions.  It's a whirlwind trip through life, with death a constant companion.  But this is also a very funny fifty minutes, with pathos always lurking underneath.  A smart script jaunts through a host of common taboos, bizarre situations and awkward personal encounters.  But the central theme is always there, courtesy of the coffin centre stage, which does time as doctor's desk, bar, security desk and kitchen table.  And a silent funeral director who haunts his way through scenes.

A strong performance from Heron, with good support from the other three who all turned up in multiple roles.  Julie Wilson Nimmo makes good use of her various parts to get a lot of the laughs.  Very enjoyable, and a reminder of the unfairness of life.

Oscar (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

Oscar (Brian James O'Sullivan) has come to the island looking for... Solitude?  Inspiration?  Does he even know?  He's had his piano moved up here from London, so he's taking it all seriously.  But what is 'it'?  He's a successful composer, but all that success came from working with his brother Freddy.  And Freddy is dead now, suddenly.  Can he write Freddy's memorial piece by himself?

Except he's not completely alone, because Miriam (Kirsty Findlay), his landlady for the next fortnight, isn't going to let him be.  She knows a bit about grieving, having lost her father and being left alone to look after her mother with ever-advancing dementia.  Whether Oscar wants her to or not...

A sparky relationship develops that brings forth pathos, romance and some kind of understanding.  If it verges towards sentimentality on a couple of occasions, that's well counterbalanced by the humour that runs all the way through.  There are a lot of good one liners.  And songs too.  Regular readers will be aware of my antipathy for the stop/start musical format, but the songs in Oscar are well thought through and the lyrics always help move on the plot, feeling like an integral part of the whole.  Good performances, and piano playing, from both cast members, and Findlay has a gorgeous singing voice.  

Written by O'Sullivan, the script, and songs, and performances, deliver a lot of laughs, moments of drama, reflections on the nature of dealing with grief, and a bit of a twist in the tail.  What more could you ask for from a 50 minute drama? Well worth seeing.

PS  Vegan haggis sausage roll was today's comestible of choice - pastry was a bit stale!