In the midst of preparing for the inevitable exclusion from the list of multi-year funded organisations, Dogstar have found themselves producing a text that similarly has suffered a cull, as The Testament of Gideon Mack from next year onwards will no longer be part of the National 5 English curriculum. Taking the opportunity to tour an adaptation around Scotland could in some instances be seen as deft programming, if not a form of exploiting the school curriculum to your own ends.
When it was published in 2006, The Testament of Gideon Mack was lauded by many as a Scottish classic in the making. Having had, when it was published, no less a literary giant than Irvine Welsh, in his Guardian review, recognise it in such terms, here as the adaptor, Dogstar’s Artistic Director Matthew Zajac has given a lot of respect to the original text. Given the very Scottish theme, of an overbearing religion which recruits its main protagonist to be a minister, with a healthy scepticism around the existence of God, it comes not to haunt but to underscore Gideon Mack’s own demise. In many ways, it has echoes of Silas Marner in terms of its protagonist finding doubts and therefore counts as a classic piece of writing in terms of any English literary study.
But it is its undoubtedly Scots.
And that is set out right from the opening, with storyteller Ephy Lumsden taking us into this otherworldly place of fairies and folklore that allows Gideon Mack to find himself dropping in on the De’il himself.
As a narrative structure, we get flashback and present day mixed together, with the thematic link between each of these episodic points of view, delving deeper into the mythology of the past, but very much being part of an episodic present means of theatrical communication.
To that end, Mack is seen growing up, rebelling against the Kirk and his faither before he finally succumbs to the ministry that he was destined to follow. Having found himself madly in love with one woman, he then discovers a love for another who shows him affection and leads Mack not only to follow the wrong career but marry the wrong woman.
Upon the death of his wife, Jenny, the rekindling of a relationship that never began but a love that was always present with Elsie leads him into conflict not only with his Kirk Session but also his best friend Elsie’s husband. In between, rescuing a dog after a possible romantic moment with yet another woman, Mack falls down into the earth in the midst of a flood to meet the De’il hissel.
The first act sets us on the trajectory well with a continuing motif of the wavering of the cast physically moving as one as if at sea and drifting with a form of theatrical Tai Chi. Mack’s fall down a precipice both emotionally and physically allows Mack to try and find himself but end with him face to face with a De’il who happens to look very much like his ain faither.
The first act is a little bloated, which is saved by a second act which is much more to the point. Some judicious cutting in the first act would sharpen things.
My surprise, having said that it is a school text, the audience were very much more of my age and stage in life: not many happened to be of a school disposition. It led me to marvel that this is a theatre company who, for the fifth time running, has been denied Creative Scotland funding when they clearly have a connection to putting something on a stage that pays off in popularity but also reflects our own society in terms of our ain issues and traditions. This does not so much attack the dominance of Presbyterianism but asks it questions.
The cast is very strong, with Kevin Lennon playing Gideon Mack as a young lad transcending into an older but not worldly wise one. His naivety suits very much the ministry that he has gone into. As always, Molly Innes gives us a fantastic delivery of both put-upon but dignified mother Agnes and wise woman Catherine in the second act. Innes brings so much to both roles that it is an anchoring and poised set of performances that are a joy to witness.
Blythe Jandoo gives doomed wife Jenny such grace but also dedication for the hopes of Gideon, which turn into despair at their eventual distancing. It was nice to note that, whilst Katya Searle as Effie and Nancy and Rebecca Wilkie as Elsie Moffat have perhaps the least noted stage experience on that stage, they give additional presence and gravitas when required. They truly make it feel a process of ensemble throughout.
Fraser Sivewright as John Moffat provides that matching awkward broodiness that many in the West Coast of Scotland will recognise amongst their men. Both Matthew Zajac as James Mack the father and the De’il and Anthony Strachan as Peter McMurray underscore everything with that austere horrendous Presbyterianism that Scotland has suffered so much from over the last many generations.
I was “fortunate” as someone who was brought up in the United Free Church of Scotland to witness much of the ill effects of religion. A religion where what they claim is evil is often where good is found and good wrapped up as a cloak, as we are increasingly finding that evil lurks unchecked and unchallenged.
Gideon Mack is not helped, however, by a curious costume choice that at times during the first act makes him look like an oversized toddler. I would have preferred some costume changes within that to allow us to see his development rather than him constantly being in shorts. Having said that, the episodic structure that is used by the director Megan de Chastelain would have struggled to cope with many costume changes for our protagonist. However, at times, I felt that the direction was a little clumsier than it ought to have been to allow a more fluid direction. Transitions between each of those episodic adventures mean that some scenes dip into rather than wallowing in the beauty of the leid and the language.
The set is very functional, and what I liked most was the pulpit being turned into the fire in which the De’il was able to warm his hands and heal Mack’s broken leg. The duality of that is incredibly purposeful.
Lighting provides tremendous atmospheric push towards the structural difference between light and darkness.
Dogstar Theatre Company has demonstrated once again just exactly why it is key to our renaissance and survival. In fact, it would be good to see Dogstar managing to recover from the blow that they have had and continue to provide us with this quality of fare rather than have to fill in another form.
Reviewer: Donald C Stewart