MEAT. To 24 August.
Edinburgh - Fringe
MEAT
by Sarah Colvin
Nutshell theatre company at Smirnoff Underbelly To 24 August 2003
7.15pm
Runs 1hr 30min No interval
TICKETS: 0870 745 3083
Review: Timothy Ramsden 20 August
Rare drama well-done.Meat's taken over from dust and ashes as a common reduction for humanity; not the body disintegrated by death, but laid out, dead or alive, on a slab for exploiting or mutilation.
The murder of street prostitutes underpins Sarah Colvin's play, which with its early 1980s setting also plays against the Falklands conflict (never, officially, a war).
It starts with the showmanship of a conjuring double-act, between the performers whose characters will be Jack Black and Mrs Grotius, the butcher's wife. For all its showbiz lightness, this establishes a past relationship that could well have been closer to Black magic than fun with flowers.
'It's all about control,' says Jack as he offers a wad of money for some of Grotius' cold-storage space - unused as trade's bad. We suspect Jack's offer links to the disappearing bodies of street-walkers. 'The Toll Is Grim' as a newspaper headline says - though it's talking Falklands.
Grotius might well have voted Mrs Thatcher in back in 1979, but he's discovering the party seen as the businessman's friend is doing nothing for the small man encroached upon by costcutting supermarkets. An equal lie sends men to die or kill for England's glory - all that 'never again' weeping over war poetry swept aside in 1982's tabloid 'Gotcha!' headline.
What you do no longer matters in this material world. As whore Stacey says, 'I'm the breadwinner. I bring home the bacon.' Morals no longer have even a follow-on position.
Yet working-girls can be mothers too, looking after each others' kids. Even the pimp apologises for swearing in the presence of his girls' parents. And you still don't let on to dad, struggling to keep to his values, as well as stay in business, that you're on the streets because the factory's rationalised you there.
Sarah Colvin writes bleakly convincing dialogue. It's economic and well-paced, knowing what leaps and connections to leave an audience to make, how to keep events progressing and characters consistent yet interesting.
A good cast play with pace and understanding, while Kate Nelson's direction maintains and builds tension. Stewart Cairns is a picture of honest benevolence under strain, while Joanna Holden is precise with both aspects of the wife - teamaker and the one with a head for figures.
Mrs Grotius is at once more realistic (she knows what daughter Shona really does for a living, and has a past of her own hinted at) and apparently cosily domestic than her husband.
Colvin's hit on a well-timed generation point here: 'Thatcher's Girls' selling sex on the street for living while their parents puzzle over breaches in the socially secure post-war world they knew as children.
Alan McPherson copes well with Jack's somewhat over-enforced misogeny - which could be as much a matter of confidentiality as attitude. Grotius is easily lead, and McPherson finely shows how his character employs bonhomie and intimidation as ways of steering things his way.
Unfortunately, Colvin, having reached her crisis, stops. Matters could go grimly or farcically; to pull the plug just when issues are aboout to hit the fan leaves a feeling of deprivation, and the sense of a writer currently stronger on presenting a picture of society than analysing the implications.
Still, it's not bad when a writer and production leave you wanting more.
Shona: Gemma Burns
Mr Grotius: Stewart Cairns
Andy: Malcolm Hamilton
Mrs Grotius: Joanna Holden
Jack Black: Alan McPherson
Stacey: Lisa Rigby
Director: Kate Nelson
Designer: Andrew Burt
Lighting: Simon Wilkinson, Neil Hobbs
Costume: Lisa Cochrane
2003-08-22 10:46:11