NO MEAN CITY. To 3 June.
Glasgow
NO MEAN CITY
by A McArthur & H Kingsley Long adapted by Alex Norton
Citizens' Theatre To 3 June 2006
Tue-Sat 7.30pm Mat 3 June 2.30pm
Audio-described/BSL Signed 1 June
Runs 2hr 20min One interval
TICKETS: 0141 429 0022
www.citz.co.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 30 May
Colour and energy in this tough-knuckled Gorbals story.
No inner-city tenement district in Britain's ever acquired the Gorbals' reputation for hard-drinking, tough-fighting, razor-wielding violence. Till replaced by tower-blocks in the later 1960s, this part of the Glasgow's south Clydebank was a byword for the herded, exploited, semi-civilised inner-city. Alex Norton's 1988 adaptation of Gorbals-man McArthur's only novel (Kingsley Long was ghosted in by the publisher) was done for 7:84 theatre company, and its second act shows that company's political payback time for the visceral toughness of surrounding scenes.
Norton's work is crude though efficient carpentering. The openly political scenes are most rough-and-ready, but even back in 7:84's straight-talking socialism heyday, such companies' epic stagecraft always depended on a measure of indulgence, or unsophistication, among audiences.
If the joins stick out more obviously now, that's owing to the increased sophistication in staging (imagine what a Declan Donnellan might do to the story) and to the way we've been Thatcherised and post-Thatcherised into looking at individuality and surface style instead of looking primarily at the whole social picture.
So, Jeremy Raison's revival is a valuable reminder of 2 sets of time, and theatre, past. Set by Lucy Hall between 2 tenement blocks, a society where everyone's overlooked by someone, the centre has an upper level, the rose-tinted world of the ballroom where Razor King Johnnie Stark's friend Bobbie tries escaping Gorbals life through his fleet-footed skill with an opportunistic dancing-partner.
Beneath is the cold, corrugated decay of the streets where Johnnie fights and faces ambushes from rivals. It's not only the other gangs that don't fight fair. The knives are also out for Bobbie and Johnnie's brother Peter, whose socialism skewers him, when they upset the bosses.
An ever-reliable cast negotiate the various demands on credibility with vigour, while Andrew Clark's knifeman has everything except the instinctive feel of someone reared in a near-feral society (among which, as many characters make plain, most people, women especially, want to live their tough lives peacably).
Giuseppe Di Iorio's lighting marks out the dance-palais glow in a world otherwise harshly lit or darkly-shadowed, while Ricky Ross's score heightens key moments and provides an elegy for Johnnie's brief and troubled reign. By the time the curtain slowly descends as actors re-form the opening image of its palindromic bookends, Raison's production has gripped with its honesty and energy.
Bobbie Hurley/Joe Kendles/McLatchie: Gordon Brandie
Mrs Stark/Mrs McGilvery/Mrs Gorman: Maureen Carr
Johnnie Stark: Andrew Clark
Lily McKay/Ella McBride: Ruth Connell
Peter Stark/Walter/McGuire: Paul J Corrigan
Isobel McGilvery/Mary Hay: Suzanne Donaldson
Lizzie Ramsay/Maggie Stark: Mary Gapinski
Auld James Hurley/Big Mourn/Cameron/Briden: Lewis Howden
John Stark Jnr/Gus McLean/Mr McGilvery/O'Hara/Frank Smith: Barrie Hunter
George Brass/Mr Booth/Reilly: Billy Mack
Director: Jeremy Raison
Designer: Lucy Hall
Lighting: Giuseppe Di Iorio
Composer: Ricky Ross
Choreographer: Maxine Braham
Fight director: Carter Ferguson
2006-05-31 13:09:47