Blythe Jandoo

The Testament of Gideon Mack

06/03/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Gideon Mack (Kevin Lennon) has a wee problem, one that has plagued him since his childhood. He an atheist, a belief instilled in him after growing up under the watchful eyes of his hard-bitten father, James (Matthew Zajac) , a God-fearing minister for the Church of Scotland. So why, you might ask has Gideon gone into the same profession?

Well, he’s a keen jogger and he loves nothing better than raising money for charity. Being in the church gives him the opportunity to ensure that the funds he raises go to worthwhile causes. For a long time, it seems to work, but then, out running one day, Gideon stumbles and falls into the water of a nearby gorge, a place that figures highly in the local myths and superstitions. During a mysterious absence of three days, he becomes acquainted with this fellow who is… well, to put it mildly, rather devilish.

Based on the novel by James Robertson (long-listed for the Booker prize in 2006 and itself inspired by James Hogg’s The Private Memoirs of a Justified Sinner), The Testament of Gideon Mack is an intriguing, picaresque tale that follows its protagonist from childhood to manhood, exploring the juxtaposition (and in many cases similarities) between God and Satan.

Mack is a fascinating character, never entirely evil but always open to the powers of persuasion. He’s perfectly willing to follow the advice of his wife, Jenny (Blythe Jandoo), who persuades him to go into religion in the first place – and, after her tragic death, he’s all-too willing to plunge headlong into a passionate affair with Elsie (Rebecca Wilkie) one of his parishioners, the wife of his best friend. But we know, don’t we, that such transgressions will inevitably come at a price…

Lennon is eminently watchable in the title role, nailing Gideon’s haplessness as he blunders helplessly from one complication to the next, while the true stroke of genius here is that Zajac (who also wrote this sprightly adaptation) gets to play both Gideon’s priggish father and that devilish acquaintance I mentioned earlier, thus reinforcing all their similarities. Aidan O’ Rourke contributes an immersive soundtrack, Sasha Harrington provides distinctive movement sequences for the eight-strong cast and Meghan de Chastelain directs all the various elements with considerable skill to create an effective and compelling night at the theatre.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Sunshine on Leith

08/06/22

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

In Edinburgh, you’re never more than six feet away from a Proclaimer. Or, at least, from someone proclaiming their love for the Proclaimers. The affection is well-deserved. Craig and Charlie Reid are responsible for a multitude of absolute bangers: deceptively simple tunes, combining heart and anger, warmth and sadness. It was inevitable someone would say, ‘Hey, we could make a musical from these.’ (Cue: Stephen Greenhorn.) And equally inevitable that the resulting project would be a hit, a regular on stage since its 2007 debut, with a successful film adaptation to boot.

So there are no surprises here. We’re familiar with the show; of course we are. Nonetheless, there’s a palpable thrill in the air, because we know we’re in for a treat. This two-venue production – co-directed by Elizabeth Newman and Ben Occhipinti – is laden with symbolism: the first show since Pitlochry Festival Theatre’s revamp, and the last before Edinburgh’s King’s Theatre closes for its own refurbishment. It’s the perfect choice for both, a celebration of Scottish talent and a love song to the people of Caledonia.

There’s a low-key, homespun ambience, which works well, creating a sense of familiarity between the performers and the audience. There are no flamboyant costumes here, no fancy pyrotechnics. Instead, like the Proclaimers’ songs, it’s quietly clever – no showing off. The band doubles as the ensemble, and they appear to be a happy team, grinning at one another and at us, and vibing unselfconsciously. There are no barriers, which cements that feeling of intimacy, enabling us to empathise with the characters. This is no mean feat in a large, traditional theatre like the King’s, with its proscenium arch and imposing loges, all designed to accentuate the separation of stage and auditorium. It’s really very impressive.

The story is a Willy Russell-esque account of working-class life, told with affection and a strong sense of place. Ally and Davy (Keith Jack and Connor Going) are back in Leith, having been honourably discharged from the army, just in time for Davy’s parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary party. Ally’s been going out with Davy’s sister for years, and he’s hoping now’s the time to settle down, but Liz (Blythe Jandoo) isn’t quite ready for that. She’s been stuck at home while he’s been away, and she’s restless, keen to stretch her wings. Her nursing pal, Yvonne (Rhiane Drummond), meanwhile, has fallen for Davy – and what is Davy’s dad, Rab (Keith Macpherson), hiding from his wife, Jean (Alyson Orr)? It’s a simple tale, but surprisingly affecting, and I find myself tearing up on more than one occasion. No spoilers, but the line “Because they wanted me” just hits me every time, and Orr’s rendition of the titular song is genuinely heartbreaking.

Adrian Rees’ set looks great. A miniaturised Edinburgh skyline is mounted on stilts, while the action occurs below – a neat representation of Leith and Edinburgh, the city looming over the town. There are ladders leading up to Blackford Hill; from here, we join the characters looking down on their home turf, trying to get a handle on their place in the world. The set comes apart, so that sections can be moved to create walls, but this is a distraction for me. It seems unnecessary and, although the transitions are thoughtfully choreographed, there’s too much clutter and stage traffic for very little gain.

In the end, this is all about the music (directed by Richard Reeday), and it’s a fabulous combination of the raucous and the refined. There are some issues with the sound – mics occasionally cutting out, and some imbalance between the vocals and the instrumentals – but none of it really detracts from the serious talent on display.

Sunshine on Leith has a relatively long run, so you’ve got until the 18th June to catch it here in Edinburgh – and to say “bye the nou” to the Old Lady of Leven Street.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield