Max Jones

Jekyll & Hyde

18/01/24

Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

I’ve always thought of Jekyll and Hyde as the quintessential Edinburgh story, so it never fails to come as a surprise when I’m reminded that the original novella was based in London. (And written in Bournemouth to boot!) Gary McNair’s astute adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s iconic story uses the same setting as its illustrious predecessor and strips the story back to its bare essentials. It’s a monologue, performed with gusto by Forbes Masson. Everything about the production feels taut and fleet, a straight seventy-five minute run with no interval.

Masson wanders onstage as the story’s narrator, lawyer Gabriel Utterson, who warns us that he’s not ‘the good guy’ in this tale. With this idea firmly planted, he begins to relate his story: how he learns from his cousin, Richard Enfield, of a brutal attack on an innocent eight-year-old girl by a man called Edward Hyde, whom he describes as “downright detestable.” 

Utterson’s suspicions are instantly aroused because one of his oldest friends and clients, the mild-mannered Dr Henry Jekyll, has recently changed his will in favour of a man with that same name. Utterson soon becomes obsessed with Hyde and spends much of his time hanging around the man’s doorway without ever managing to spot him… 

The problem with adapting such a familiar story is, of course, that there can be few real surprises. I admire Michael Fentiman’s direction, Max Jones’ spare set design and particularly Richard Howell’s startling lighting effects, which – combined with the Richard Hammarton’s eerie soundscapes – accentuate the disturbing psychological aspects of the story. I applaud the fact that McNair has dispensed with the mysterious ‘serum’ swigged by Jekyll in order to transform himself into Hyde, an element that has always seemed corny to me. I note too that the plot’s most unbelievable strand – that despite so many visits to Hyde’s doorway, Utterson fails to notice that it connects directly to Jekyll’s house – has been left intact.

Of course, none of this could fly without Masson’s confident performance and he rises to the occasion admirably, inhabiting every character with consummate skill, switching from one to the other, seemingly without effort. A sequence where he passes a bowler hat from hand-to-hand as he conducts a lengthy conversation with himself feels suspiciously like observing a masterclass in acting. It’s an absolute pleasure to behold.

It’s only in the production’s final moments – when Utterson’s introductory words are re-echoed – that this adaptation’s true strengths are actually revealed. There is, I think, a suggestion here that hasn’t been fully explored before. And that’s reason enough for its existence.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Trainspotting

14/11/17

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

It’s hard to believe that it’s twenty four years since Irvine Welsh’s collection of short stories first recounted the adventures of Leith junkies, Renton, Begbie, Spud and Sick Boy – and twenty years since the iconic film version took the world by storm.

Tackling such a classic brings inevitable problems. The first half of this Citizens Theatre production has an air of over-familiarity about it, perhaps amplified by the fact that the characters and sets are styled very much like the movie. At times, it feels almost like we’re watching Danny Boyle’s Greatest Hits. All the best-known scenes from the film are present and correct – the hopeless work interview, the dead baby, the suppositories in the toilet (this scene evens receives a round of applause, which is weird, when you think about it – what are we actually applauding?).

None of this is the fault of the cast who deliver uniformly excellent performances – Lorn MacDonald is a superb Renton, Martin McCormick a brilliantly foul-mouthed Begbie… it’s just that I found myself longing for a few surprises.

Lucky for me then, that the second half actually supplies them, hewing much closer to Welsh’s original vision, managing to offer some scenes I’ve never seen before and some interesting variations on the ones I know by heart. Angus Miller takes on the dual roles of Sick Boy and the doomed, Tommy, while Gavin John Wright actually seems to be channeling Ewan Bremner as the hapless Spud. But perhaps its Chloe-Ann Taylor who has the most difficult job here, switching effortlessly from Alison, to Dianne and even, during the infamous ‘going cold turkey’ scenes, Renton’s Ma.

It’s not usually done to give a special mention to the set design (take a bow Max Jones) but the final scenes play out in an ingeniously designed London hotel room, which somehow glides slowly onstage like a kind of hallucination, creating a ‘wow’ moment all by itself.

Overall, this is an assured production; and when I think about it, maybe those familiar scenes just need to be there – otherwise it’s like going to see your favourite band in concert and them neglecting to play any of their best-known songs. A game of two halves then, Boyle versus Welsh. Whichever half you prefer, this is well worth your time and money.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney