Month: November 2016

Lyceum Variety Night

final-lyceum-collage

06/11/16

Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

David Greig is not all talk. This is a man who walks the walk: he says he believes in the democratisation of theatre, then translates this belief into a diverse programme that truly opens those ‘elitist’ doors. First we had The Suppliant Women, with its chorus of fifty community volunteers. And now we have the Lyceum’s first ever variety night, bringing in a range of performers who wouldn’t normally appear in a venue such as this.

Organised and compèred by Jenny Lindsay of Flint & Pitch (ably assisted by Siân Bevan), this is an eclectic mix – but it’s all high quality, and well-worth the effort of venturing out on this cold Sunday evening.

First up is A New International, a seven-piece band with a lively folkish feel. The violin is glorious, and the singer has a real presence. They’re truly energising, and set the evening’s tone.

Christopher Brookmyre is up next, and he’s really very good indeed, reading a short story set in a Glasgow park about an open air production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s spellbinding and hilarious; I’d have come here just for this.

He’s followed by Emma Pollock, with three beautifully plaintive tunes. She clearly has a real fan base in the audience, and this is an assured set.

Jenna Watt performs an excerpt from her award-winning spoken word show, Faslane, about her complex relationship with nuclear weapons. Her delivery is soft and understated, but she’s telling us hard truths. It’s a fascinating piece and makes me want to see the full version.

Andrew Greig and Leo Glaister are a stepfather and son, and their act is hard to define, producing something that’s somewhere between music and spoken word. But it’s never less than engaging, and it’s witty, nuanced stuff.

Luke Wright is probably my favourite act of the night; he’s a charismatic performance poet, and his poems are both funny and challenging. The one about Iain Duncan Smith (using no vowels apart from ‘i’) is very clever indeed, and earns rapturous applause for its audacity.

Rachel Amey is another poet, and also a highlight of the evening. She exudes a quiet dignity, a serious sense of purpose that makes her verse compelling. There’s an honesty and integrity to her work, that leaves us pondering her ideas long after she has left the stage.

Proceedings are wound up with  A New International, performing three more songs, confirming our initial impression that they’re a band to watch out for.

Bravo, Lyceum! Bravo, Flint & Pitch and David Greig! This evening was a real triumph, and we’ll definitely be back for the next one.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Indigo Yard

06/11/16

Charlotte Street, Edinburgh

Indigo Yard is a a lovely pub/restaurant, owned by the Montpelier group, and just as delightful as the rest of their venues. Tucked away in a little lane at the end of Princes Street, it’s all wooden panels and candlelight. On this particular Sunday afternoon, it’s relatively quiet, but there are still enough punters to generate a buzz.

We’re here for a pre-theatre dinner, so we don’t experience the evening vibe. I imagine this place has a very different rhythm as the night draws in, and we’ll certainly be back some time soon to check this out.

Make no mistake: this is a long way from fine dining. This is ‘gromphy’ comfort food, and it’s very keenly priced. As well as the à la carte, there’s a set menu, where two courses cost just £10, and we decide to sample this.

To start, Philip opts for the smoked haddock fishcakes with hollandaise sauce, which are tasty and satisfying and nicely cooked. I go for the grilled halloumi and roasted red pepper salad with basil oil, which arrives on a bed of rocket with a sticky balsamic dressing. Yum! It’s simple, but it works, and the roasted peppers are deliciously sweet.

For the main, I choose an Indigo Orkney steak burger with fries. It’s not exciting – it’s a burger – but it’s exactly what I fancy and a decent plate of food. The burger is sturdy and well-flavoured, and the tomato relish adds a welcome piquancy; the fries are frozen, but they’re serviceable. There are sides of Mac N Cheese  on the menu, and the bacon with smoked Applewood cheddar version sounds so good, we decide to share a portion, just because we can. And we’re glad we do, because it’s pretty damned amazing. A bowl of this alone would constitute a perfect lunch, especially for diners nursing last night’s hangovers.

Philip’s main is more interesting than mine: it’s chicken and noodles with ginger and cashew nuts, and it’s lovely – all warmth and crunch and succulence.

We’re feeling greedy so, although we’re full, we decide to have dessert. We share a trio of sweet treats, which comprises small portions of banoffee pie, salted caramel & dark chocolate cheesecake and a lemon tart. The standout is the lemon tart, which is sharp and sweet as anything.

Even with a pint of beer and a bottle of Chilean sauvignon blanc, the bill comes in at just £63 – which is quite impressive for what we’ve had. Even more impressive is the fact that Indigo Yard is working with Scottish homeless charity, Social Bite, so we’re offered the chance to ‘pay it forward’ and buy a Christmas dinner for a homeless person. Who could refuse? £5 is a small addition to our bill, but it’s one that makes a difference.

All in all, our experience at Indigo Yard was an extremely positive one – and we’re happy to recommend it to anyone who wants to eat and enjoy themselves in Edinburgh.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

Nocturnal Animals

nocturnal-animals-trailer

05/11/16

Nocturnal Animals is a spiteful little film, full of bile and petty score-settling. Beautifully styled and well-acted throughout – with a stellar cast of cameos supporting the leads – this film feels like a tragic waste of talent, a plethora of artistic skill funnelled into a project with a vacuum for a heart. The worldview here is warped. The whole thing – not just the inner story of Sheffield’s novel – feels like a sterile revenge plot, the work of an embittered soul with sadistic tendencies.

Amy Adams plays Susan Morrow, a successful but miserable art dealer, trapped in an unhappy marriage where her riches mean nothing; her life is a hollow shell. When she was young, in grad school, she was briefly married to a different man, Edward Sheffield (Jake Gyllenhaal), and he was the true love of her life. But Susan was too greedy, too bourgeois, too much like her mother, to appreciate the creative sensitivity of a man like Edward: she wanted the trappings of a middle-class life, and didn’t support him in his artistic endeavours.

Nineteen years later, a manuscript arrives on her desk. It’s a proof copy of Edward’s novel, soon to be published. It’s dedicated to her, and it tells the tale of a couple just like them, brought to life for us on screen as Susan reads compulsively. The protagonist, Laura (Isla Fisher, styled to look exactly like Adams), is raped and murdered, along with her daughter. Clearly, Edward is still a long way from getting over Susan’s rejection of him.

It’s an ugly, mean-spirited story from start to finish, with a deep misogyny at its core. From the freak-show fat women of the opening credits to the gratuitous nastiness of Laura’s death, it’s lacking any sense of proportion – or of charm. Nor does it work as a study of the dark side of humanity; it’s all too petty and too personal for that. And it’s boring a lot of the time too, all ponderous shots of people in baths, and endless scenes where Adams gasps, startled by what she’s read, adjusts her glasses, then picks up the book again. The novel’s plot is pretty turgid too: after the initial excitement of the murders, it’s a rather dull procedural, where we know exactly whodunnit, and so do the police.

Seriously, this is a disappointing film. It looks fantastic and the cast is a dream-team by anyone’s standards (Adams and Gyllenhaal are joined by Michael Shannon, Laura Linney, Michael Sheen and Andrea Riseborough, among others) but, ultimately, this just leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

2.5 stars

Susan Singfield

Grain in the Blood

03/11/16

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Grain in the Blood is the second play by Rob Drummond we’ve seen this week, but it’s so different from the rambunctious, slapstick humour of The Broons that it’s hard to believe it’s from the same pen. This is a clearly a playwright who doesn’t want to be pigeonholed, who likes to experiment with a wide range of forms and genres. And this is all to the good, because Grain in the Blood feels like a real one-off, a spare, stark, unnerving chiller that is at once contemporary and classical. Its remote farmland setting is precise and detailed – and yet it could be anywhere. The dialogue is taut and ultra-modern in style, all fragments and silences and unfinished thoughts – but it could be any time. This is a complex, angular, unwieldy play – and it’s fascinating to see the plot unfurl.

Sophia (Blythe Duff) is a retired vet. Her son, Isaac (Andrew Rothney), has been in prison for years, ever since he murdered his wife, Summer. Sophia lives on the family farm, with her sickly granddaughter, Autumn (Sarah Miele), and Summer’s sister, Violet (Frances Thorburn). Autumn is dying; she needs a kidney transplant to survive. Under the careful watch of his minder, Bert (a wonderfully monosyllabic John Michie), Isaac is released from gaol for a long weekend, to meet his daughter and make a decision: will he donate a kidney to help her live?

There’s a sinister atmosphere on stage throughout, an uneasy sense of what might come to pass, accentuated by the presence of the shotgun we know is in the chest, by the slaughtered lambs and the kitchen knives. And the verses, recited by Autumn, conjure up an ancient world of witchcraft and folklore and bloody rituals.

The tension is palpable. There’s a school group sitting in front of us in the auditorium, and they’re so invested in the action that they gasp out loud as one, breathe out a collective “no” as the final plot point is revealed.

Orla O’Loughlin’s direction is subtle: these are actors who have been told to play the silence, explore the stillness, consider proxemics and use the edges of the stage – and this all helps authenticate that all-pervading sense of dread. Autumn’s bedroom, revealed by sliding walls at the back of the living room where everything else takes place, looks like the final picture on an advent calendar: the double doors opening to show an ethereal figure poised between life and death, bathed in yellow light and speaking truths. This potty-mouthed youngster is the moral heart of the play.

Grain in the Blood does what the best theatre should: it entertains, of course, but it also makes you think. It raises questions, demands answers. This is one I highly recommend.

4.7 stars

Susan Singfield

Jack Reacher: Never Go Back

unknown

02/11/16

Fans of the Jack Reacher novels are an unforgiving bunch. Tom Cruise is NOT Jack Reacher, they insist. The ex-army hard man hero as described by author Lee Childs is a big shambling bear, while Cruise is… a bit more compact. No matter that Child has repeatedly endorsed Cruise’s version of Reacher. No matter that he even makes a cameo in the latest film. Crime fans are not to be trifled with.

Whatever, Never Go Back is an assured chase movie that never puts a foot wrong. At the film’s opening, Reacher has just solved another case and having had a brief telephone chat with Major Turner (the exotically named Cobie Smulders) he resolves to call around and take her out to dinner at his earliest opportunity. But by the time he gets there, things have changed somewhat. Turner is in prison, accused of espionage, and Reacher discovers that he is being sued by a woman he’s never heard of who claims that he’s the father of her teenage daughter. Reacher is promptly arrested by the military police but it’s hardly a plot spoiler to say that he isn’t incarcerated for long and before you can say ‘with one bound,’ he and Turner are on the run and have hooked up with Reacher’s ‘maybe’ daughter, Samantha (Darika Yarosh). Meanwhile, a trained killer is on their trail…

Okay, this isn’t going to win any prizes for originality, but it’s nonetheless a gripping action yarn, ably directed by Edward Zwick, that races breathlessly from one set piece to the next, before culminating in a bruising punch-up on the roof tops of New Orleans at the height of Mardi Gras. Cruise does his action shizzle with his usual aplomb, Smuthers gets to kick a lot of ass too and Yarosh is suitably appealing as the precocious Samantha, who might just turn out to be a chip off the old block. As somebody who has never read one of the source novels, I found this thoroughly entertaining and the height of the titular character really didn’t matter one jot. And when it comes to onscreen running, few people do it as well as Tom Cruise…

If you like an undemanding chase thriller, this should be right up your street. On the other hand, if you’re a devotee of the novels, you might not be so enamoured.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Broons: Maggie’s Wedding

01/11/16

The King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

The Broons are a much-loved Scottish institution. It’s hard to believe that, as a popular comic strip,  they have featured in The Sunday Post since 1936 – which makes this theatrical celebration an 80th anniversary event. Written by Rob Drummond and directed by Andrew Panton, it was originally commissioned and developed by Sell A Door Theatre Company and as you might expect, given the subject, there’s a robust cartoonish feel to the show. Maw and Paw Broon (Joyce Falconer and Paul Riley) preside over their working class family in the fictional town of Auchentogle, with real pride and plenty of love. As the title might suggest, the events of the play lead up to the marriage of Maggie (Kim Allan) to the (unseen) Cameron. But Maw doesn’t much like the idea of her little princess leaving the family home – and when she finds out that other members of the family are also planning to move away, she quickly takes steps to ensure that such a thing will never happen…

I’ll be the first to admit that having only recently moved to Scotland, I really don’t have much of a backstory with these characters and consequently, many of the ‘in’ jokes (which elicited roars of appreciative laughter from tonight’s audience) went completely over my head; but there was still much to enjoy here, particularly Laura Szalecki’s portrayal of the man-hungry Daphne and Duncan Brown as the monumentally thick Englishman, Jock Badge, who thinks the term ‘4 to 6 years’ on a jigsaw puzzle is an indication of how long it might take him to put it together.

As events scamper joyfully along,  the actors slip effortlessly from character to character and, since this is a play with music, just about everyone bashes out a tune on some kind of musical instrument at various points in the proceedings. The overall effect is charming and though I don’t really agree with the play’s ultimate message – that it’s better to stay with what you know than to seek out new experiences – it certainly chimes with a story that has remained totally unchanged for so very long. And who could fail to enjoy the rousing singalong at the conclusion that pays tribute to a whole host of Scottish talent from The Waterboys to The Bay City Rollers?

If you’re a fan of these fictional folk, you certainly won’t want to miss this; and, if you’re merely curious as to what the fuss is all about, you’ll still be in for an entertaining night.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Train to Busan

31/10/16

Zombie movies are a bit like buses: you wait for what seems like ages for a decent one and then two crackers come along at pretty much the same time. No sooner are we over extolling the genre-busting virtues of The Girl With All The Gifts, than Train to Busan comes thundering down the track. We’ve all heard of Snakes on a Plane, but Zombies on a train? One look at the trailer was enough to convince us that this should be our Halloween movie of choice.

South Korean writer/director Sang-ho Yeon is in the driver’s seat of this adrenalin-fuelled delight, which eschews the slow-witted lumbering zombies of George Romero and substitutes them for some hot-footed, rabid berserkers that would leave the crowd from 28 Days Later standing on the platform. They are everywhere in this film – tumbling through glass doors, raining down out of the sky and, at one point, forming an inhuman chain clinging tenaciously onto the back of a locomotive. It’s fast, it’s frantic and, above all, it’s fun to watch.

Our hero is Seok Woo (Yoo Gong) a wealthy fund manager who, from the very outset, presents as a man who looks after his own best interests. When he is obliged to (very reluctantly) escort his young daughter, Soo-an (the adorable Soo-an Kim) to Busan to rendezvous with her mother – from whom Seok Woo is separated – he expects nothing more than an uneventful journey. But there’s a barely glimpsed ‘incident’ at the station where the train starts from and an injured woman stumbles aboard and locks herself in the toilet. When she emerges, she is one of the undead and she quickly sets about biting everyone she encounters. This is a disease that travels like wildfire and, within minutes, the train is full of unwelcome travellers.  Seok Woo and a band of fellow passengers will have to use every trick they can think of if they hope to survive to the end of the line…

Like most zombie movies, this is more than it might at first appear. The train is a great big metaphor for humanity and it quickly becomes apparent that the most dastardly travellers on board are the ones who care only about themselves. Chief among them is Yong-Suk (Eui-sung Kim) a man who thinks nothing of flinging a helpless teenage girl to the ravening hordes in order to cause a diversion to escape their clutches. Time and again, the nice people (the socialists) are seen sacrificing themselves in order to help others. The question is, which side will Seok Woo end up on?

Don’t worry – this doesn’t feel anything like a lecture. While you could argue that Train to Busan isn’t particularly scary, it makes up for that shortfall by ramping events up to almost unbearable levels of suspense, utilising some incredible set pieces along the way. This is quite simply a cinematic thrill ride, one that grips like a vice all the way to its (heartbreaking) conclusion.

Don’t miss out. Book your ticket to ride before this one pulls out of the platform and disappears over the horizon.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney