Molly Geddes

Water Colour

07/08/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Winner of the St Andrews Playwriting Award 2025, Milly Sweeney’s Water Colour focuses on the lives of two very different young people, who both go through bouts of depression. If that sounds off-putting, please don’t be misled, because this is an invigorating slice of theatre that moves kinetically through its rapidly-evolving story, cutting back and forth between the two characters, who move restlessly around Natalie Fern’s ingenious set design, which will eventually reveal some secrets.

Esme (Molly Geddes) is in her final year at the Glasgow College of Art and it only remains for her to submit one more painting in order to graduate. But she somehow feels unable to stir herself to undertake that final picture. Locked up alone in her student flat, friendless and far away from the nurturing powers of her mother, she is beginning to fall into a dark, enveloping world where she can no longer function. 

Harris (Ryan J Mackay) would seem her polar opposite, a cheeky lad from the schemes, who has just moved into a flat with his best pal. He’s recently secured regular work as a dishwasher at a posh city restaurant, ruled over by a glowering Head Chef of the Gordon Ramsey persuasion. Harris is happy-go-lucky and ready to adapt to just about any situation.

But Harris and Esme are destined to cross paths one dark night, when Harris is simply wandering home from work and Esme has come to the end of her tether. Their interaction ignites a series of dramatic changes…

Director Sally Reid keeps the pace up to full throttle as the pair interact, while movement director Steve Laude-Russell ensures that the unfolding story is kept in restless motion throughout. Ross Brown’s sound design lends the piece an eerie, dreamlike quality and both performers are at the top of their game in their respective guises, handling their lead roles and a string of supporting characters with aplomb. I am genuinely thrown by a late-stage revelation as middle-class Esme finds therapy and heads towards redemption, while working-class Harris, unable to afford private health care, seems destined to plunge in the opposite direction. In the final section I find myself holding my breath as everything goes haywire.

It’s easy to see what caught the St Andrews’ judges’ eyes, and the heartfelt ovation from this audience is proof enough that Water Colour exerts a powerful hold. It’s an utterly compelling script and this fabulous production plays to its strengths. I for one can’t wait to see what Milly Sweeney comes up with next.

4.5 Stars

Philip Caveney

Alright Sunshine

03/08/25

Pleasance Dome (Jack Dome), Edinburgh

Edinburgh playwright Isla Cowan is making quite a name for herself in Scottlish theatre – and it’s easy to see why. We’ve watched two of her previous pieces (2023’s And… And… And… and 2024’s To Save the Sea) and been mightily impressed; today’s production of Alright Sunshine is even better: an intense monologue about being a woman, being a police officer, and the darkness lurking behind sunny days on the Meadows. 

PC Nicky McCreadie (Molly Geddes) is dedicated to her job. It comes first: before her family, before her relationships, before her health (who has time for eggs for breakfast when there’s a Greggs on the way to work?). Her dad was polis too, and she’s determined to be the kind of officer he’d be proud of… if he were alive. She’ll be as strong, as focused, as brave as he always urged her to be. She won’t give in to her feelings. She won’t cry. She won’t be weak like her mum. She won’t be a girl.

Directed by Debbie Hannan, Cowan’s taut, almost poetic script is brought powerfully to life by Geddes’ mesmerising performance: a tour de force with real emotional heft. The playful, observational tone of the opening sections – where the park’s ‘timetable’ is humorously detailed – is skilfully undercut by the gradual disclosure that all is not okay in PC Nicky’s world. She’s seen too much, given up too much, suppressed too many emotions in her bid to be the perfect policewoman. Now that carefully-constructed carapace is breaking apart and she has no idea what she’s supposed to do.

It would be a crime to reveal any more than this; suffice to say that this is a compelling play with an important message at its heart. If you can watch it without giving in to your feelings, without crying, without being a girl, then you probably need to talk to someone. Soon.

5 stars

Susan Singfield