Phil McKee

Keli

15/05/25

Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

Not so much a musical as a play in which music is an intrinsic part of the production, Keli is set in the fictional Anston (based on the real-life Whitburn), where the titular character – a motor-mouthed seventeen-year-old played by Liberty Black – lives with her agoraphobic mum, Jane (Karen Fishwick). Keli is doing her business HND and works part time at the local Scotmid. She’s also a member of the Anston brass band; indeed she’s their star player, even if she does find it hard to get to rehearsals on time. Bandleader Brian (Phil McKee) needs her there because the band has been chosen to perform in a national competition at the Royal Albert Hall, and he’s depending on Keli to nail a particularly tricky solo.

When we first meet her it’s clear that something has gone horribly wrong. She’s in the act of stealing a tenor horn from a glass case in a nearby country home. The last thing she’s expecting is for the ground to give way and send her plunging into the labyrinths of the old coal mine that runs beneath the property – and she certainly doesn’t expect to find an old man lurking down there, waiting to ask her some very perplexing questions…

Keli, written by Martin Green, began life as an audio play. In this theatrical version the music (also composed by Green) still provides a constant counterpoint to the drama. In fact, occasionally the score obscures parts of the dialogue, but that’s probably something that will settle in as the run progresses.

The combination of brass band music and coal mine closures inevitably evokes comparisons with the 1996 film Brassed Off (indeed, it’s even mentioned at one point) but Keli is a different beast entirely, a strange blend of kitchen sink reality and contemporary fantasy. While I’m not sure all the elements work – a lengthy sequence set in a sexy London nightclub feels oddly misplaced – there’s still lots here to enjoy. Black is sassy and vivacious in the title role, while Billy Mack submits a charming performance as the mine’s mysterious inhabitant, William. Olivia Hemmati is terrific in the twin roles of Amy, Keli’s Scotmid supervisor, and Saskia, a free-spirited woman Keli meets in a pub in London, who shows her how to embrace her inner self.

Set designer Alisa Kalyanova and lighting supervisor Hana Allan make the production look sumptuous – the evocations of the coal mine are particularly effective. Director Bryony Shanahan keeps the momentum bubbling as the piece moves effortlessly through a series of different locations.

And there’s no denying that the play’s final scene offers a thrilling crescendo as – on alternating nights – the massed ranks of the Whitburn/ Kingdom brass bands file onto the stage and let rip. Worth catching? You’re darned tooting it is!

3.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Sunshine On Leith

23/05/18

A show set in Edinburgh, about Edinburgh people, with music by two of the city’s most celebrated sons… little wonder the King’s Theatre is rammed to the rafters this evening and even less wonder that the audience is lapping up every line of Stephen Greenhorn’s earthy script. Which is not to take anything away from Sunshine On Leith. This exuberant, warm-hearted musical has much to recommend it.

Davy (played tonight by John McLarnon) and Ally (Paul James Corrigan) are two young friends, recently returned from a punishing tour of duty with the British army in Afghanistan. Delighted to have emerged in one piece, they head back to their homes in Leith (not Edinburgh, mind you. The script takes great pains to point out that there’s a big difference). Ally is going out with Davy’s sister, Liz (Neshla Caplan), a nurse dreaming of a brighter future, and she arranges a blind date for Davy with a colleague, English girl Yvonne (Jocasta Almgill). The two soon strike up a relationship but how far is Davy prepared to go in order to secure their future? Meanwhile, Davy’s parents, Rab (Phil McKee) and Jean (Hilary Maclean), are approaching their 30th anniversary and preparing to celebrate – but something from Rab’s past appears like a bolt from the blue, threatening to jeopardise the couple’s long-standing relationship.

Sunshine On Leith is an absolute charmer, a celebration of working class experiences and aspirations. It’s beautifully and economically staged, the revolving sets giving a genuine feel for the various locations and there’s a band onstage throughout the show from which key members interact with the cast and, at times, even establish characters in their own right.  And of course, there’s the music of The Proclaimers, which is cleverly tied to the story and, unlike many pop-culture musicals I can think of, is never allowed to feel superfluous. Even if they’re not your cup of Irn Bru, you cannot deny the power of the Reid brothers’ music and, from the opening chords of the climactic I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), the entire audience is delightedly clapping hands and stamping feet with a force that seems to shake the beautiful old theatre to its very foundations. I’ve seen standing ovations here before, but they have rarely felt as well-earned or heartfelt as the one we witness tonight.

And if you don’t come out humming that poignant title song, well, there’s clearly something very wrong with you.

4.7 stars

Philip Caveney