James Robertson

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

The Winter’s Tale

14/02/17

Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

The Winter’s Tale is famously a play of two halves, and Max Webster’s production for the Lyceum exaggerates and develops this juxtaposition in every possible way – and the result is thrilling.

This is an modern-day version of the play: ‘Sicilia’ is now Edinburgh; ‘Bohemia’ is Fife. Although Leontes (John Michie) and Polixenes (Andy Clark) are still ostensibly ‘kings’, they are presented more as middle-class business men, rich and successful, with teams of staff assisting them. The set design helps to cement the contrasts between them: Leontes’ apartment, slightly raised and framed in black, looks exactly like the glass boxes lining Edinburgh’s Quartermile; a walled-off sound-booth reinforces this image. It’s an inspired idea: those apartments look like stage-sets anyway, their fourth walls removed to allow us to peep in. And they are sterile and hard, seemingly perfect but ultimately lacking – just like Leontes’ relationship with Hermione (Frances Grey). The pastoral scenes, on the other hand, are deliberately hokey. The fake grass is rolled out before us: there is no attempt at realism here. The props are more panto than serious Shakespeare, all bright-bunting and shopping trolleys and rickety wooden stuff. The costumes  all look hand-made, in a local am-dram kind of way. It’s hard to imagine we’re watching the same play. Polixenes  is a big fish here, but he’s in a very different kind of pond.

The contrasts are further underlined by both dialogue and acting style. While acts one, two, three and five retain Shakespeare’s original language, act four has been recast in Scots, an audacious undertaking performed with evident delight by writer James Robertson. The performances are mismatched too: whereas the Sicilian scenes are very serious and actorly, the Bohemian scenes are played for laughs, with comedic exaggeration and audience interaction; it’s beautifully done.

If I’ve a criticism of this play – and I haven’t much – it’s that the fayre goes on too long, without adding much to the plot. It is a lovely interlude, and the scene-setting is vital, but it starts to drag after a while: we want to know what happens next.

The performances here are universally strong, but Maureen Beattie’s Paulina is a definite stand-out; she imbues the character with warmth, vitality and strength. The musicians, led by composer Alasdair Macrae, deserve a mention too: their on-stage accompaniment is integral to the story-telling, and their presence adds a strange unearthliness that really elevates the play.

Do get yourself along to the Lyceum to see this: it’s really rather wonderful.

4.9 stars

Susan Singfield