Tag Archives: Enda Walsh

ARLINGTON

★★★

Tron Theatre

ARLINGTON

Tron Theatre

★★★

“well worth seeing for its well executed design and engaging performances”

In the latest addition to the dystopian, Big Brother-esque theatre scene, Arlington – a new production from Glasgow-based dance-theatre company, Shotput – is a visual spectacle of a show with incredible performances and a stellar design team. Written by Enda Walsh, the show sets up an intriguing premise which it disappointingly fails to follow through on.

Lights up on a stark raised stage, outfitted only with a waiting room bench, a lone ticket dispensing machine and a pile of clothes. Around the perimeter of the stage we see multiple monitors and pieces of run down looking tech – someone is definitely watching. Above the stage a large sign with the number ‘3097’ is hanging ominously. The story begins by following Isla (Aisha Goodman) as she waits endlessly for her number to be called so she may escape her room in this mystery tower. We are given very little in the way of information as to how she came to be here and what is going on with the rest of the world outside these towers. A new, unnamed man (Alex Austin) enters Isla’s sphere to monitor her from the screens outside. Eventually, the scene shifts away from Isla and her comical body-pillow dance duet and we meet another unnamed character. Played by Jack Anderson, we are entranced by a twenty minute solo dance piece, presumably depicting this character’s journey inside their own room. Finally, our third and final captive brings the story full circle as we discover he is the guard from Isla’s tale, now trapped himself.

The story that we attempt to follow throughout this show is convoluted and unsatisfying in the few answers we are given to the many questions that arise. While this is likely a conscious choice in the storytelling, it weakens the show considerably as the scrappy structure offers little in the way of closure. That said, what this show lacks in plot it makes up for in volumes with its direction, Lucy Ireland and Jim Manganello, and design elements. The set design, Anna Yates, offers a beautiful contrast between the harsh clinical environment of the room and the soft, deeply damaged nature of the control centre outside in the real world. The lighting design, Emma Jones, and sound, Garry Boyle, work together in perfect harmony to create a chilling all-encompassing atmosphere that creates a sense of perfect unease, never allowing us to relax or know what is coming next. Rob Willoughby’s video design transports us to a disturbing reality of constant observation as we are invited at all times to see at least four versions of the live actor via the aforementioned monitors, while the mysterious man behind the control desk remains with his back turned and swathed in shadow.

The performances across the board are superb. Each performer incorporates elements of dance into their character, with Jack Anderson providing a solo routine so vivid it’s hard to look away. Aisha Goodman brings humour and grit to her performance as Isla, allowing us to perfectly appreciate the frustrations and quirks of living in this strange world. Alex Austin skillfully allows us to connect with his character’s vulnerabilities and awkwardness even while sitting in the dark and turned away from view.

Overall this is a production well worth seeing for its well executed design and engaging performances. If you’re looking for a satisfying story that will leave you either sated with knowledge or content with the well managed unknown: look somewhere else.



ARLINGTON

Tron Theatre then Scottish Tour continues

Reviewed on 23rd October 2025

by Kathryn McQueen

Photography by Brian Hartley


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

BLACK HOLE SIGN | ★★★★ | September 2025

 

 

ARLINGTON

ARLINGTON

ARLINGTON

SPECKY CLARK

★★★

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

SPECKY CLARK

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

★★★

“Oona Doherty’s script is amusing and poignant”

At the centre point of the performance, ten-year-old Specky Clark, played by Faith Prendergast, walks across the stage to a radio in the rear corner and turns it on to a dance tune by David Holmes. The music begins quietly, appearing to come from the on-stage radio, and the child starts tentatively to move, before casting off his inhibitions and dancing freely and joyfully, the music booming from the theatre’s speakers. The movements recall the freestyle dance of someone alone in their bedroom: balletic kicks interwoven with techno-club fist pumping and are exhilarating and childlike.

In the rear of the stage, which is dressed as the abattoir where Clark has been sent to work by his overbearing aunts, a series of fabric sheets hang to imitate pigs’ carcasses. One of these opens and a head emerges. It is the pig killed by Clark on his first day at the abattoir that has been resurrected by the child’s dancing for Samhain, the Gaelic festival when the departed return to life, marking the beginning of the ‘Darker Half’ of the year. This moment of rupture also marks the point at which the performance shifts from the everyday into the supernatural and the performers’ dancing becomes freer and less bound by the expectations of the quotidian.

Oona Doherty’s Specky Clark is a fictionalised dramatization of the life of her great great grandfather, sent to live with relatives in Belfast after the death of his parents in Glasgow. It intermixes biography with Gaelic traditions and is permeated by the Irish language. The piece has a strong ensemble of nine dancers in gender-swapped multiroles including Erin O’Reilly, Maëva Berthelot and Malick Cissé. True to life, it is both funny and sad, and Specky’s domineering aunts’ manhandling of the child into and out of clothes and into work at the slaughterhouse to a refrain of ‘awk poor child’, ‘God love him’ is both tragic and comical. The physical performance of these aunts is a high point of the show as they peck birdlike around their new charge, a formidable double act that will shape the orphan’s life. The resurrected pig’s crawling and contorting is also excellent.

Oona Doherty’s script is amusing and poignant, characterised by spiralling repetitions, and the sound design by Maxime Jerry Fraisse, powerful. The use of Sardinian throat singing when Specky is made to shoot the pig approaches the transcendent and original music by Lankum is good. The staging by scenographer Sabine Dargent conjures an achronological Belfast ranging from the mid-twentieth century to today, echoing the slippage between worlds of the performance’s climax. The opening is particularly striking, as Specky screams over the body of a dead parent, a life-sized puppet of death jerkily enters behind him, reaching to touch the lifeless body and raise it up – this shocking beginning sets the eerie tone for the piece.

However, some elements of the performance are less effective. A scene in which Specky is assaulted in the street after a day at work feels a little disconnected and inconsequential and the integration of Fortnite dances, while perhaps age appropriate for Specky, took me out of the moment. I also felt that the two sections of the performance, the ‘real’ and the ‘supernatural’, could have been better integrated and perhaps a longer runtime could have allowed for a fuller development of these ideas.

Nevertheless, in its scope and the powerful performances of Prendergast and the rest of the company there is much to commend Specky Clark, and the rapturous applause which greeted the end of the production suggests that maybe it just wasn’t for me.



SPECKY CLARK

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

Reviewed on 9th May 2025

by Rob Tomlinson

Photography by Luca Truffarelli

 

 

 

 

 

Recently reviewed at Sadler’s Wells venues:

SNOW WHITE: THE SACRIFICE | ★★★★★ | April 2025
SKATEPARK | ★★★★ | April 2025
MIDNIGHT DANCER | ★★★★ | March 2025
THE DREAM | ★★★★★ | March 2025
DEEPSTARIA | ★★★★ | February 2025
VOLLMOND | ★★★★★ | February 2025
DIMANCHE | ★★★★ | January 2025
SONGS OF THE WAYFARER | ★★★★ | December 2024
NOBODADDY (TRÍD AN BPOLL GAN BUN) | ★★★★ | November 2024
THE SNOWMAN | ★★★★ | November 2024

SPECKY CLARK

SPECKY CLARK

SPECKY CLARK