Not a Spec of Incompetence in this Student Production of ‘Gagarin Way’

‘Gagarin Way’ presented by Incompetent Productions as part of the St Andrews Festival at the Barron Theatre, St Andrews from the 27th – 29th November. Affiliated with the Mermaids Society, the cast and direction was provided by students from the University of St Andrews. Directed by Jon Durie and Vicki Grace and produced by Phil Pass. Cast includes Gavin Jackson (Gary), Lewis Roy (Eddie), Jamie Wightman (Tom) and Jon Druie (Frank). Costumes sourced by Kate Stephenson. Attended opening night performance on Friday the 27th November 2009, 7.30pm at the Barron Theatre, South Street.




Gregory Burke’s play seems to have little to offer the St Andrews Festival in terms of promoting the Scottish image and encouraging the ‘Great Homecoming’ of 2009. On the surface, the play portrays Fife as a land of repressed and bitter people who are haunted by the unfairness of their working class past.

The play is riddled with aggression, dark humour and depression for which the dismal Scottish weather rightfully takes the brunt of the blame. The audience whole heartedly embraces the expletives of the play and collectively indulges in the gross cultural stereotyping against Scots, Americans and graduates alike. However, it would be unfair to define this play as a giant Scottish cliché. Durie and Grace have injected a pride and passion into this revival that appeals to the locals in the audience who are noticeably protective of their wee kingdom.

In an empty factory, two men attempt to channel their passion for violence into something semi-constructive and together they forge their own warped version of political activism. They kidnap a person of the wrong ethnicity, forget to buy bullets and quarrel endlessly about the motivations of their anti-capitalist project. Despite their garish outbursts and foul language, the pair seem pretty harmless. When Tom, a graduate in politics, stumbles onto the scene he becomes embroiled in their dishevelled attempt at revolution.

Separated from the action by a black gauze, the audience is comfortable to laugh and wince as the lads power through the unpredictable plot. Lewis Roy (Eddie) shines in his role as the Vincent Cassel of the ‘Scottish Banlieue’. His accent and comic timing are satisfyingly professional. He adds nuances of naivety and confusion to Eddie’s character that would ordinarily be overshadowed by his explosive actions. His biting articulation transforms the script’s experimentation with swearing into an art form and he puts Malcolm Tucker to shame as the crudest Scotsman of the decade.

Supporting Eddie in his plot to take out the big shots of this world is Gary, a wannabe suave gangster with women issues and an illiterate hand. Despite a few slips in accent Gavin Jackson manages to keep up with his co-stars and provides the production with some brute strength. Similarly, Jamie Wightman does not shy away from the demanding physicality of his role. Tom and Gary’s brawls are genuinely painful to watch but Durie and Grace ensure that Burke’s characters are not all driven by violence. Jamie Wightman engages the audience’s affections with his nervous energy and portrays Tom as a sensitive and quietly ambitious graduate.

Without the necessity of luxurious sets, costume, lighting or sound, Durie has focused all his attention on his leading men and rightly so. It is the professional ammunition of the cast that inspires the rapturous applause at the end of ‘Gagarin Way’ and distracts from the jumbled, out of date politics which saturate the dialogue. This play is a triumph and should be proud of its position in a festival that celebrates Scottish talent.

Drought on Stage in the St Andrews Play Club Production, ‘Memory of Water’.

Memory of Water
By Shelagh Stephenson; directed by Wendy Quinault; sets by Alan Tricker; costumes by Sheila Terris. Presented by ‘The St Andews Play Club’ at the Byre Theatre in St Andrews, Fife, 12th-21st of November 2009. Attended performance on Thursday the 19th of November, 7.30pm in the A.B. Paterson Auditorium.
WITH: Moira Caton (Vi), Margaret Thomas (Mary), Janet Richardson (Teresa), Nathalia Smith (Cahterine), Kenny Lindsay (Frank) and Gary Thompson (Mike).



Three sisters, two passive husbands and one dead mother form the core of Shelagh Stephenson’s premier stage play, ‘Memory of Water’. The funeral setting is the perfect excuse for outrageous behaviour, abusive comments and heavy nostalgia. The fractious relationships are conducted in Mother Vi’s old bedroom which is literally cracking under the weight of the secrets shelved within. The women wade into the past and desperately battle to become anything but their mother.

Mary is joined at the family home by the bitter Teresa and wild child Catherine. The three women tussle over petty childhood issues and incessantly blame each other for their own misfortunes. As they drown out their grief by consuming more wine, they unlock painful home truths of teenage pregnancy and abandonment. Not even the presence of the male other halves can lift the girls from their stupor. Instead they seek solace by exploring their mother’s wardrobe and making hilariously inappropriate casket jokes.

With such juicy subject matter at their disposal it is a shame that the play begins slowly, trickling into existence as the St Andrews Play Club fail to engage with Stephenson’s buoyant and witty script. Despite having little acting competition, Nathalia Smith fails to impress as the hypochondriac sister. She maintains a strangely high pitch of voice throughout which makes the delivery of every line sound defensive and surprised. She grated on my patience and although the St Andrian OAPs in the audience found her quips about cannabis chuckle worthy, I remained embarrassed and disturbed by her representation of the twenty something generation.
As well as Quinault’s direction, the costumes were decidedly miss-matched and incoherent with the target era. The skull and cross bones wife beater, worn by Catherine, sparks of a costume designer that is out of touch with current fashions and Teresa’s gypsy costume was so outrageous that I hardly noticed the difference between her conservative funeral attire and her mother’s costume dress.

With no allusion to a father figure in the plot, the male counterparts struggle to inject any notion of masculinity into the performance. Kenny Lindsay plays Frank as a camp shadow of a man. He rolls his eyes, prances across the stage and reacts melodramatically to any disgraceful behaviour. The snide and unhelpful comments lose their comedic value when Lindsay begins to anticipate the audience’s laughs.
The exception to my criticism is awarded to Margaret Thomas (Mary). Her comic timing and natural fluid movements about the stage soak up the leaky discrepancies of her fellow actresses and save the play from being deemed frightfully amateur. The production succeeds when she alone reflects on her childlessness and her impossible relationship with a married man. She embodies the tragicomedy that makes this play hilarious and chilling.

I would rather this enactment was not etched into my long term memory reserves. Good enough for a cheeky matinee audience if accompanied by a refreshing cup of interval coffee but not enough to quench the thirst of a theatre aficionado.