THE best thing about this dark, urban tragedy by Davey Anderson comes a long way into the 80-minute running time, when, all of a sudden, the perspective changes. We have got used to designer Will Holt's line of three dreary office spaces, with their uniform filing cabinets and flickering surveillance monitors, the backdrop for six interweaving stories. There's no hint that writer-director Anderson is gearing up to step outside his naturalistic framework.
By David Greig. Traverse Theatre review.
LAST year the Traverse, Scotland's home of new writing, kicked off its Edinburgh Festival Fringe program with "Petrol Jesus Nightmare #5," a violent broadside by Henry Adam that raged against American involvement in the Middle East. This year, helmer Philip Howard returns to the Middle East, but with a more peaceable vision of 21st century cultural conflict. Set in the Syrian capital, David Greig's "Damascus" is an ironic comedy of middle-class manners that delights in up-turning prejudice and preconceptions. Although by the end the play loses much of its initial clarity of purpose, it remains a witty, thought-provoking challenge to cultural stereotypes.
YOU FEAR it's going to be one of those modishly anaemic plays in which no one says more than a few words at a time and the conversation never gets to the point. Certainly Selma Dimitrijevic's mainstage debut, Night Time, is a delicate spider-web of a play, so fragile it could snap apart at any moment. For a while, it seems it's only the careful choreography of Lorne Campbell's direction and the humane performance of Kananu Kirimi that are holding the gossamer threads together. The enigmatic conversation, the bare white set, the self-conscious shadows of Jon Clark's odd lighting design in the Traverse's temporary tent inside the University of Edinburgh Drill Hall, all conspire to push the play beyond mere intrigue and into the inconsequential.
By Alan Wilkins. Traverse Theatre review.
THERE is a country we have made up our minds to attack. But first we have to persuade our people that it poses a threat, so we will spread a rumour that it is stockpiling weapons. Between our friends we can make the economic case for the lucrative rebuilding contracts that will be available after the invasion. We will invade, and the local people will welcome us without resistance. The whole thing will be over in a trice.
By Linda McLean. Traverse Theatre review.
IMAGINE as a child you had been party to a Jamie Bulger-style killing. Imagine you had been put through the rehabilitation system, and then left to get on with your life. Outwardly, you might seem well-adjusted, able to sustain normal relationships and show compassion. But inwardly, your past would haunt you, always chipping at your self-image and colouring the way others would see you.
This is a sample caption