March 7, 2006
Wow. This play is absolutely spellbinding. I had only seen the film, not read the book, so I was expecting a grittier, real, de-commercialised version of the film – and I was not disappointed.
With only four main characters propelling us through this story of despondency and drug addiction in Edinburgh, and minimal props, it was imperative that the acting and dialogue was dynamic enough to keep us interested throughout – and it did it with bells on. Throughout the performance, there was not one whisper or fidget from the audience – the silence was only broken by the many laughs raised by a fantastically gross, real, desolate, funny and disturbing play.
This is Trainspotting’s 10-year anniversary revival, and it is an absolute cracker, a modern classic mastermind. Directed by Harry Gibson, and written by Irvine Welsh, the dialogue is not for the fainthearted, or for those who don’t comprehend a strong Scottish accent – but it may help those of you of a sensitive disposition to know that the language is not perhaps as offensive as it seems – yes the play has 147 ‘c-words’, but as Gibson says, in Edinburgh the word is a ‘laddish term of endearment’. So we’ll overlook the overuse of it then. However, I won’t be able to look at a jar of Vicks vapour rub again without having a good chuckle, and definitely won’t be ordering tomato soup in a restaurant again, particularly not when I’ve been rude to the waitress...
Much grittier and darker than the film, but so much more emotional and real, it really does keep you hooked from start to end – I didn’t want it to end, and when it did there were many loose ends which kept our discussions going over post-theatre drinks – always the sign of a job well done. Mark was compelling and sexy, Alison was full of damage and sparks and energy, Tommy was heartbreaking, Begbie was just an absolute git. The drug references and acts are as real as it gets, so do go if you understand, and do go if you want to understand, but be prepared that it ain’t pretty – the play doesn’t glamorise the life, but tells it as it is, and don’t expect the liberation of a happy ending – after all, that only happens in the movies...
With only four main characters propelling us through this story of despondency and drug addiction in Edinburgh, and minimal props, it was imperative that the acting and dialogue was dynamic enough to keep us interested throughout – and it did it with bells on. Throughout the performance, there was not one whisper or fidget from the audience – the silence was only broken by the many laughs raised by a fantastically gross, real, desolate, funny and disturbing play.
This is Trainspotting’s 10-year anniversary revival, and it is an absolute cracker, a modern classic mastermind. Directed by Harry Gibson, and written by Irvine Welsh, the dialogue is not for the fainthearted, or for those who don’t comprehend a strong Scottish accent – but it may help those of you of a sensitive disposition to know that the language is not perhaps as offensive as it seems – yes the play has 147 ‘c-words’, but as Gibson says, in Edinburgh the word is a ‘laddish term of endearment’. So we’ll overlook the overuse of it then. However, I won’t be able to look at a jar of Vicks vapour rub again without having a good chuckle, and definitely won’t be ordering tomato soup in a restaurant again, particularly not when I’ve been rude to the waitress...
Much grittier and darker than the film, but so much more emotional and real, it really does keep you hooked from start to end – I didn’t want it to end, and when it did there were many loose ends which kept our discussions going over post-theatre drinks – always the sign of a job well done. Mark was compelling and sexy, Alison was full of damage and sparks and energy, Tommy was heartbreaking, Begbie was just an absolute git. The drug references and acts are as real as it gets, so do go if you understand, and do go if you want to understand, but be prepared that it ain’t pretty – the play doesn’t glamorise the life, but tells it as it is, and don’t expect the liberation of a happy ending – after all, that only happens in the movies...