Braw Clan has a well-deserved reputation as a company which champions Scots language while celebrating the people, places, and stories of Clydeside. The latest production is So Long, Wee Moon which is set wholly in a room and kitchen in Crawfordjohn in the 1920s, but which takes us around the world and back through the travels and travails of Nancy Gibbs. We first meet Nancy holding her own recently cut ponytail defiantly in front of her as she dances and sings around the room. Nancy is played by Chiara Sparkes, and her incredible performance is key to the play's success.
Surrounded by lines of the washing which make up the family income (and with a consumptive granny off-stage), she strikes a glamorous pose at odds with such a lowly setting. Nancy is young and vital, someone who clearly dreams of other places and other people. When she takes the impulsive step of lifting the money for a year's rent, she clearly sees it as her only way out. If she has thoughts as to the consequences, they are secondary.
When her mother Annie (a powerhouse performance from Helen McAlpine) returns she immediately reacts to her daughter's lack of productivity, and the lipstick and lace, and accuses her of dereliction of duty. She also reminds Nancy of her impending nuptials, instructing her to put aside any notions of a life elsewhere, dreams which the younger woman has formulated in that sinful cesspit of Hamilton with its immoral picture houses. The row which develops tells you everything you need to know about the struggle Annie has to keep a roof over her family's head, but also Nancy's need to escape. She takes her daughter's rebellion as a personal attack, but the significance of the single curling stone (on stage throughout) references a historic tragedy for which Annie blames Nancy, and which is arguably at the heart of the family dynamic. Something has to give, and Nancy flees, leaving a goodbye note which is as symbolic as it appears final.
The titular 'Wee Moon' is referred to in the first part of the play - she is out with her beloved dogs. Annie thinks at the age of 12 she is already too old to be at play, no longer allowed to be young. When she does appear (a charming Morven Blackadder who captures the guileless nature of the character) it is five years later and, like her sister, she also manages to whistle while she works (counting out the steps as to the perfect approach to a spotless floor). The vitality we saw in the young Nancy is also evident in her wee sister, if not the same desperation. At least not yet.
When Nancy returns she arrives with presents, hooch, and a transatlantic accent (reminiscent of Lina Lamont in Singing In The Rain - both having careers scuppered by the advent of talking pictures). Wee Moon is beside herself, even if Nancy is now known by the stage name of Elsie Mae, aka 'The Little Linnet'. Nancy's dreams have not come true, and the cruelty of the world has taken its toll. When mother Annie and daughter Nancy are reunited, and as the action builds to a genuinely tense conclusion, the family's secrets and lies come to fore and there is a race against time which is breathtaking.
So Long, Wee Moon fits into a Scottish tradition of working class community theatre, with references to Joe Corrie only confirming that. Playwright and producer Martin Travers' use of Scots, central to the Braw Clan ethos, is poetic and poignant setting not only place and time, but adding a lyrical quality and legitimacy which it may not otherwise have had. There are lots of lovely local references as well, such as catching the last train from Abington to Glasgow, and to the 'pure Tinto snow'. Director Rosalind Sydney gets the balance right between tragedy and comedy, and there are moments of laughter and real joy among the often harrowing confrontations. And the strength of the performances across the board give the three women complexity and a humanity which could have been lost in lesser hands.
Composer Pippa Murphy's music guides the mood, and the use of song (and voiceover) takes us out of Crawfordjohn to the bright lights of New York and back again. It's a soundtrack which stays with you. I've had 'I Love A Lassie' running around my head ever since! This is a piece of theatre where everyone involved is at the top of their game. It involves the audience in a manner which is rare, and you'll come away genuinely caring for these characters you have only known for an hour.
Photo credits - Alex Brady
Comments