Gillian Argo

The Legend of Davie McKenzie

11/03/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Another lunchtime spent at the Traverse Theatre in the splendid company of A Play, A Pie and A Pint. The Legend of Davie McKenzie is terrific, a reminder of just how rewarding it can be to lose yourself for an hour or so in an affecting piece of drama. Written by Stephen Christopher and Graeme Smith (who last season gave us Dancing Shoes) it’s the story of two hapless youths, stuck on a scheme somewhere in Scotland. They meet as kids in the 1980s and instantly bond – not over football or rugby, but their shared love of iconic action movies. But, even though they dream big, they’ve been born into the wrong lives. They’re destined to fail.

The story is narrated by Sean (Afton Moran), the less confident member of the duo. When we first meet him, he’s in a prison cell, serving out his time for drug offences. Davie (Sean Connor) has been released earlier than his pal and, returning to an empty flat and a cache of hidden drugs, has taken a one-way trip to tragedy. His death doesn’t stop him from returning to the prison, as confident and motor-mouthed as ever, ready to direct Sean through a movie he’s envisaged that will serve as Davie’s memorial. All he needs Sean to do is to find a way to get out of prison fast…

Both leads are superb and they are brilliantly backed by Ruaraidh Murray as an affable prison guard, a terrifying Cockney Geezer and a sympathetic funeral director, flitting between the roles with great skill – at one point he’s even called upon to play a helicopter! Gillian Argos’s set design is a perfect example of simple scenery that can be moved, swapped and manipulated to suggest a whole series of different locations. Director Jake Sleet keeps the momentum at full throttle as the canny script gleefully unleashes a barrage of witty exchanges and legendary film references. Can you spot them all? I think I got most of them…

Which all serves to further highlight the poignancy of the play’s final act, when Sean talks about the cost of losing Davie – what it means when your closest friend in the world steps out of the spotlight and into the darkness.

A word of warning. You may want to have a pack of tissues to hand when Sean raises a fist into the air and Simple Minds strike up a very familiar song…

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Cheapo

07/10/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Last time we saw this play – back in December – I was a little confused by the title. This version comes with a strapline that makes things a whole lot clearer – “Cheapo: chess slang for a primitive trap, often set in the hope of swindling a win from a lost position.”

Cheapo‘s previous appearance at the Traverse was part of the annual 4PLAY programme, where four new plays are showcased over four nights. It was our favourite of last year’s quartet, and I’m delighted to have the chance to watch this new iteration.

Katy Nixon’s script still resonates: her writing is spare and succinct, capturing the teenage characters’ raw emotions with devastating precision.

And their emotions are very raw. At a recent party, something dreadful happened to Kyla (Yolanda Mitchell) and she needs Jamie (Testimony Adegbite) to help her deal with the fallout. But Jamie isn’t prepared to renege on what he’s told the police – and he doesn’t understand why Kyla wants him to. In a not-especially-subtle-but-nonetheless-effective metaphor, they play a game of chess, arguing about their possible moves while fighting to avoid checkmate. The mounting tension is expertly undercut by some quirky flights of fancy, as the duo imagine how their lives might have played out in alternate universes – before coming back down to earth with a bump, still mired in the nightmare of their current reality.

The set, by Gillian Argo, is boldly emblematic: a crooked panel of black and white checkered flooring spreads up on to the wall, mirroring the chess board Jamie places on the table. A red carpet appears to signal the dangerous path the pair are on; again, the colour is repeated, this time in the takeaway food cartons that litter the table. It’s cunningly designed, with monochrome stools resembling giant pawns and strip lights that double as, um, light sabres.

Brian Logan is in the director’s chair this time, and the piece is perfectly paced, with long moments of stillness and contemplation punctuating the frenetic teenage energy. The movement is dynamic and I especially enjoy the dance sequences, as well as the way Kyla moves like a chess piece in the imaginary court scene.

Adegbite and Mitchell are perfectly cast: his earnest geek nicely contrasting with her streetwise façade. The exploration of misogyny and racism feels credibly rooted in their characters’ teenage experience, and their respective vulnerabilities and coping mechanisms are skilfully embodied.

Despite dealing with distressing themes, Cheapo is a witty and enjoyable piece of theatre, provocative but ultimately hopeful, that red carpet perhaps signifying something more positive than it first appears: an escape route for our young protagonists.

4.7 stars

Susan Singfield

Wasps

25/03/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Cameron Forbes’ Wasps, the latest offering from A Play, A Pie and A Pint, buzzes along busily, like its  hymenoptera lookalike. Anchored by a gutsy performance from Yolanda Mitchell, this tragic coming-of-age monologue has quite a sting in its tail (sorry, not sorry).

Teenager Rianne (Mitchell) just wants to fit in. At school, she’s perfected the art of invisibility: if she dresses right, wears her make-up exactly so, earns just enough detentions, she can move through the corridors without attracting any attention at all. But there are downsides to never being seen. For one thing, her crush, Oran, doesn’t seem to realise she exists. And for another, not even her best friend notices when her life implodes…

I’m not usually a fan of so-called inspirational quotations but “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” serves as a pretty decent précis of Wasps‘ central message. And I mean that in a good way. Rianne faces some really serious problems – including a confrontation with her spheksophobia -which she has to dig deep to face up to. And yes, she emerges battle-scarred, but at least she’s no longer desperate to disappear. She’s bolder, braver and ready to take up space. A bit more… wasp-like.

Director Lesley Hart ensures that the pace never flags, so that the play has a convincingly propulsive teenage energy, and Mitchell does a wonderful job of conveying both Rianne’s turbulent emotions and her evident disdain for many of the people in her life, evinced by her scathing impressions of them.

Gillian Argo’s set is visually arresting. I like the hexagonal construction, suggestive of a wasp’s nest, and the flickering projections of the worker wasps . However, I’m not always fully convinced by the wasp analogy; the comparison is perhaps stretched a little too thin. I’m also left with a couple of nagging questions about the plausibility of some of what occurs. (I can’t elucidate without spoilers but let’s just say that, though social care in the UK is undoubtedly in dire straits, Rianne is a vulnerable child and her situation would surely be flagged up; she wouldn’t be left to deal with it entirely alone.)

Nonetheless, this is a sprightly, engaging piece of drama, with some lively writing and a spirited delivery – a worthy addition to the PPP canon.

4 stars

Susan Singfield