Scenes For Survival Launch – National Theatre Scotland

At this moment, Theatre is fighting tooth & nail for our right to express a freedom of creativity, and engage an appreciation of what we, as a community, can produce. What finer way to demonstrate the capabilities of exceptionally talented individuals coming together, than with a composite of forty-plus digital artworks produced in isolation. Isolated adaptations of previous works, new creations from aspiring creators and national treasures, speaking to all generations, cultures and yet harkening back to that individualistic ability to take you, however briefly, out of this world and into another.

Following the release of this short film collection, The National Theatre Scotland will begin broadcasting another segment of Scenes for Survival every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 9 pm, starting with a brief extract from Frances Poet’s Fibres, titled A Mug’s Game.

If you had been lucky enough to catch Poet’s production during its recent tour, you’ll be familiar with the blood-roaring fury etched into its script, a revulsion communicated in a way only morose Scottish humour can capture. Returning to perform an extract is one of the country’s most beloved performers, Jonathan Watson, who stars as a Clyde shipbuilder, who like many lives with the effects of Asbestos exposure, and the absence of acknowledgement or care from those who created these dangerous environments.

Watson is the voice of a generation of men. A humble man, his rage isn’t blazing, but subdued in a quiet reserve of warped gratitude for work, tying into the dying relevance of Glasgow’s dockyards, and value of the Scottish working class. Dauntingly accurate, stepping beyond the ideas of masks and safety, the drive for bosses, gaffers, and board members to march their ‘human capital’ into dangerous environments is, frankly, disturbingly relevant. Seth Hardwick’s editing, including the splicing of stock dockworkers shift-work, offers a weight to tie back into the rusted veins of Scotland’s labour intense history.

The harsh reality is that with every choice, every breath we take right now, we have no idea of the potential consequences. Fagan’s writing is the catalyst for Kate Dickie’s intense performance, honing itself not solely around the biological impacts of COVID-19, but the debilitating aura is exudes – the crippling solitude, reinforcing a growing concern of the fragility of mental health, on top of our obvious concerns of physical well-being. Wonderfully imaginative, Fagan’s writing enables Dickie to convey an ethereal, almost detached view of the world and its recovery in our absence. Dickie transcends her prison and establishes an understanding with the audience’s frustrations, concerns and questions to the future.

Isolation’s sound design neatly ties deeper into Fagan’s descriptive troubles of mental deterioration, the almost hallucinogenic properties where isolation forces us to confront ourselves, in the absence of being able to see this alien entity, this virus, our minds tie even the clatters of Thursday night Claps for Carers into a malevolence. Within the intermediary transitions, the sound score leans heavily on the dramatic foreboding, attempting to add more to an already clear intent.

For some, the time in lockdown has enabled us to have a clearing of sorts, enabling them to remove the gunk from their minds, freeing space for other thoughts to fester. Morna Pearson’s Clearing toes as a comedy, tearing itself between the uncomfortable reality of death/disease and discomfort children face going between two homes.

Ashleigh More provides a wide range of facial emotions, remarkably animated and energetic, something missing from the other performances which focus on the wearying effect of lockdown. The brilliance of Clearing is Pearson’s toying with layers of narrative, and a revelation which subverts the built-up sentiment remarkably so. Short, effective, and worth it for the levels of Pearson’s writing.

You might be expecting some humour from Godley, and you’d be correct. Alone is so much more though, it’s an authentic experience of a woman’s life. You see Jim, Jim likes his rules. Fastidious, controlling, but carried with an air of buffoonery, Godley illustrates a familiar situation, perhaps one we recognise in our parents. The underlying commentary, however, the subversion of the obvious, while jabbing at the ignorant attitudes some share regarding which rules they will and will not follow, leads to a short which feels undoubtedly the most ‘Scottish’.

Grim, earthy, with a twang and wink of charm, Godley lets down her hair in this lockdown short which will speak to many women sitting at home, experiencing the same routines and Jim’s of their own. With some exceptionally tight writing, with an unashamedly gorgeous appearance from Honey, this is a must-see for those newfound Twitter fans of Godley’s to experience the brilliance of her creative capabilities.

It’s a tough year so far, right? You’d be forgiven if you lapsed into the nostalgic times – hell, you’d be forgiven if you just wanted to relive last Christmas. Stef Smith’s The Present has a definite flow and the plainest story evolution of this evenings shorts.

Moyo Akande brings everything to Smith’s lyrical structure, which in the hands of another could have robbed The Present of its gradual evolution into sentimentality. The pacing of this short is paramount, too soon and the character feels hollow, too late and there’s no connection. Akande’s performance has a progressive build, Katherine Nesbitt’s direction knowing how to utilise the production’s strengths, allowing for Smith’s words to feel entirely natural, unrehearsed and shifts into an accessible language which retains its intention.

Well Scotland, we’ve been waiting for this one. He’s back, not for a case, not even for the pub(s). No, this time Rebus is finally leaving his stubbornness at the door, to an extent, and isolating. Refusing to modernise, choosing to seek comfort in his vinyl’s, a paper and a few cans, Rebus returns to the realisation of how important the one point of contact he has with longsuffering, friend, and colleague Siobhan. Like welcoming an old friend into the home, Rebus reflects on his life as he faces his own ‘sentence’.

An unstoppable trio of engaging writing, performance and led with Cora Bissett’s exceptional direction sees the nation’s curmudgeon return for a special which retains all of the Rebus humour, call-backs and characters, but Rankin’s original story also proffers a connection with a generation who connects with these stories like no other. This is a role which fans have been casting Brian Cox in for decades, and this feels right. From the first line, this just feels right.

Despite its roots in storytelling, Scotland looks forward, these weavers of narrative use their craft to utilise our reflection not to think of the ‘normality’ we will return to, but what the next step is. Not how quickly people will fall back into their routines post-lockdown, but how we come together to learn, to celebrate the magnificence of Scottish artists, and seek solace in hope. A prevalent concept in the peripherals of many creators is to the world we shall emerge into. A theme throughout Scenes for Survival, for good reason. That in this grand scheme, this infinitesimal amount of time demonstrates how the incompetence, arrogance and crimson soaked talons of the elite have pried open the eyes of the future, revealing that in truth – we can never go back to the way things were.

Theatre will return. Tyrants fall, but stories rule forever. And art will outlive commerce, but the way forward is unclear, and these Scenes of Survival will charter a dawning era for Scotland, for expression and community.

The entire launch collection can be found on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hybVBdI2SXI

Further information, donations and other projects can be sourced from The National Theatre Scotland’s website: https://www.nationaltheatrescotland.com/

Raise The Curtain – Capital Theatre’s Digital Engagement

The curtain will rise again. But until then, we invite you to Discover it. Create it. Perform it

From the heart of one of the nation’s Theatrical epicentres, Capital Theatre, managing charity for Edinburgh’s Festival Theatre, King’s Theatre and The Studio announces Raise the Curtain, a wide-range of events and digital activities to engage with the audiences while theatres are closed. So, whether you’re a young connoisseur of the arts finishing a nap, or keen to engage in some intergenerational ballroom dancing before a nap, Raise the Curtain will allow a range of live virtual performances, and interactive engagement sessions straight to your home.

Below you will find details regarding the outlines for many of the activities which are open to the public, as well as private projects developed for specific community groups.

Finding it tough to keep the Wee Creatives entertained? Or perhaps you’re looking for an excuse to crack out the art supplies and play-dress up? Well, no excuse is required for Wee Creatives which will offer free creative sessions for young children and their adults to enjoy. These weekly sessions shift from The Studio Theatre and directly into your home, with each week being led by a different performance artist who will lead a child friendly session. Presented live from Zoom and located on YouTube, these sessions begin as of today (May 28th)

And starting in July, over the period of eight weeks you’ll have the ability to learn to dance from the comfort of your own home, through a series of live and pre-recorded sessions courtesy of Shall We Dance? Hosted by former Scottish, International and World Champion dancer, Dawn Irvine. Dawn will bravely lead these bimonthly sessions in a for you to learn how to perform your own ballroom classics such as the Foxtrot, Jive, Waltz or the infamous Cha Cha Cha. Between sessions you’ll also gain access to these pre-recoded videos to ensure those two left feet don’t act up between lessons. All leading up to a grand spectacle, as Capital Theatres will host an afternoon, live on Zoom, for everyone to join in and strut their stuff, including a show dance from Andrei Toader and Mia Linnik-Holden.

We’ve spoken on Corr Blimey before about the marvellously popular Tea and Jam sessions held by Capital. A part of their dementia inclusive programme, this family friendly event is a monthly Zoom must, whether you’re cracking out the old guitars or warming up those vocals, all ages are welcome. This 45-minute session of uplifting melody is led by professional musician Gus Harrower and will held the last Friday of each month from 11am until noon.

QOTA was the highlight of the two-year partnership with LGBT Youth Scotland, a co-created original piece made with a group of young trans-activists across Scotland. Performing in front of 300 MSPs and invited guests at the Scottish Parliament in February, Capital have moved their activities with the group to a digital creative platform, where there is a continued supported to engage with the performing arts during lockdown.

Ever thought about what it’s like high up the lighting rig, or behind the box office? Well, with Behind the Scenes the public are invited to join an interactive call with staff at Capital Theatres to share the secrets of the theatre and how the tricks and magic come together. Having started last night (May 27th) this is sure to be of tremendous interest to those theatrical fans and budding performers.

Still not learned enough about the way Capital works? Well, with their Virtual Backstage Tours you can get your fix of all the secrets and mysteries lurking beneath The King’s Theatre, or some of the historical accomplishments the Festival Theatre (once Empire) has achieved. Starting June 2020, if you’ve been lucky enough to attend these tours in person, you’ll know how fascinating these sessions can be.

As part of their long-standing partnership with Harmeny Education Trust (a residential care home for care experienced children, in South West Edinburgh) Harmeny has been adapted to become a co-created storytelling project during lockdown. Gradually building the world and narrative around them, children create the story, choose the characters and environment and steadily, each week share, through various creative means, how they would like the story to advance. This in turn is then transformed into an artistic response through video the following week. By the conclusion of the six-week programme three short films of the children’s stories will be made available to enjoy and share.

FUSE is a project for anyone who is care experienced. For the last two months, participants over the age of sixteen have been digitally meeting weekly to discuss challenges presented, or heightened, by lockdown such as isolation, anxiety, and loneliness. Broadening their experiences, their weekly theatre club Zoom involves participants watching theatre online, bringing the group together to discover new performing arts and sharing the experiences.

Finally, Joy to the Moment looks to provide entertainment for residents isolating in care homes, or those shielding in their own. A series of small performances, wonderfully inspired from Gracie Irvine, a young pupil at The Edinburgh Steiner School, whose concerns for people isolating and in care surroundings, wanting to find a way to provide comfort and entertainment, starting June 1st.

We may, presently, be unable to soak in the rich atmosphere of the theatre, but it will return. And until that day, we can maintain a cultural adoration and encourage a continued and right to engage with and develop art.

Full information regarding specific events can be sourced directly from Capital Theatres, either from their social media channels or website: http://www.capitaltheatres.com

Photo Credit – Phil Wilkinson info@philwilkinson.net http://www.philwilkinson.net 01316186373

The Boy Who Sold the World

Directed by Adam Barton

Rating: 2 out of 5.

It doesn’t matter what idea you come up with, just so long as you can sell it. The thirsty fangs of capitalism seek to draw talent from any source, but if you want to plant your feet in its home territory, then America is the place to be. Ben Pasternak, “The Boy Who Sold The World” (2020), an undeniable person of brilliance, with a knack for technology, digital applications, but at the heart of it – marketing, seeks the opportunity of a lifetime. Moving to the states, with investors & financiers snapping at his heels for a chance to support him can Pasternak follow in the footsteps of high-school dropouts, who rise the ladder quickly, or are the stresses of money, success and being away from home too heavy a burden? Oh, did we mention he was fifteen during this?

By and large, the principal issue with Adam Barton‘s documentary is its framing, specifically Barton’s manoeuvres to humanise Pasternak, raising concerns to the film’s agenda. It attempts to find balance but offers much leeway for Pasternak to flaunt or to showboat, rather than posing questions or seeking answers. Barton structures the documentary with a fly-on-the-wall technique, relegating the camera to the side-lines and refraining from having an active presence. The predominant issue? A lot of this is smoke, mirrors and staging on the part of Pasternak, and given his age (between fifteen – nineteen throughout the filming) doesn’t feel authentic. Perhaps not premediated, but instead someone ‘hyped’ at the attention of filmmaking, Barton’s film doesn’t feel credible, its cinematic style is hands-off, but its storytelling is manipulative.

No doubt a marketing marvel of our times, Pasternak behaves less like a Zuckerberg, and far more like a kid out of his depth. There’s an eerie reflection of our societies gluttonous need for ‘likes’, ‘retweets’ and shares, rather than substance. Pasternak’s drive to push his creations to the peak of the app stores comes not out of pride or business ambition, but a disturbing ‘collection’ of sorts, for the thrill over success. Sam Mink’s editing results in an inability to inject much momentum into the dynamic, difficult given how much of the film is simplistic shots of Pasternak or his team on their phones, but there’s next to nothing in the way of visuals stimulation.

Quite shallowly, the film focuses its attention on the achievements of Pasternak, and when questions arise to the help he may have received, does little to counter his protestations that he managed this alone. Questions relating to teammates, previous employees and designers focus on their opinions of Pasternak, neglecting the work they have put into these ventures. Even after we hear audio-conversations with his mother, who argues that without their financial aid he would never have been able to start these ventures, the audience may be left to form their opinion, but the film still offers nothing as a rebuttal to Pasternak’s assertions.

Barton’s film, therefore, pedestals Pasternak, suggesting a large body of the work was his own, when in reality it’s quite evident there was help. In the film’s blind attempt at neutrality, it allows Pasternak to weave his own narrative, a self-made genius, who really, has had opportunities many would dream of. The lacking depth of the film struggles to engage, and while, correctly, encouraging the audience to form their own opinions on Pasternak as a person, much of the documentary feels empty. At under an hour and a half, much is glossed over, swept aside, and Barton places heavy emphasis on aspects which, to be blunt, are utterly meaningless and feel like a preamble.

The Boy Who Stole the World” won’t be stealing any hearts, nor minds, failing to capitalise on a tremendous opportunity to dive into a potential rising entrepreneur. Troublingly, perhaps the documentary reflects Pasternak’s early career, with a stratospheric rise, followed by a swift, plunge back into obscurity awaiting a future project.

A maestro of marketing, Pasternak can rest assured that despite an effort to balance opinion, “The Boy Who Stole the World” doesn’t do much to act in the way of negative PR, but then again, it doesn’t manage to do much of anything. This is a tremendous story, an authentic coming-of-age experience of a rising entrepreneur balancing the harsh world of business as it melds with an angsty, hormonal teenage mindset, the real shame is how mundane Barton’s film makes the experience: ineffective, but harmless.

Review originally published for In Their Own League: https://intheirownleague.com/2020/05/21/review-the-boy-who-sold-the-world/