Matthew McVarish

A four star review from Joyce McMillan of the Scotsman.

Click the link to read the review:-
SWEET HOME BALMAHA, ORAN MOR, GLASGOW **** reviewed By JOYCE MCMILLAN

A four star review from Shona Craven of the Herald.

Click the link to read the review:-
Sweet Home Balmaha, Oran Mor, Glasgow reviewed by SHONA CRAVEN

Written by Alan Massie and directed by David MacLennan, Triumvirate is the latest in the A play A pie and a pint lunchtime theatre. Set at a key point in the history of the Roman Empire, the action follows Caesar’s son, Octavian (Matthew McVarish), as he joins forces with two older men, Lepidus (Findley Welsh) and Mark Antony (Michael MacKenzie), to plot ways to revenge the Republic and do down their common enemies.

The production is intentionally spartan, and despite deliberately anarchistic costumes, modern terms such as ‘swings both ways’ sometimes sit awkwardly alongside the clipped militaristic language. Triumvirate is a well researched, slightly dry but strongly performed historical drama, and makes some relevant points about the subtly pernicious nature of power broking.

Metro

Novelist and Playwright Allan Massie uses his expert’s knowledge of Ancient Rome in which to set a fascinating exercise in theatrical conflict. He seizes upon the historical meeting of Octavian Caesar, Mark Antony and Lepidus, the backdrop to Antony and Cleopatra, and unleashes from it the eternal potential of the three-way relationship to create exquisite tension. It is this formula that the play uses to sustain itself across your lunch hour. Indeed there is little by way of theme or message, unless you look to the readiness with which these generals of the ancient world shed the ethic of the Rome Republic and turn to ‘gangsterism’ in their bid to seize power. At each acquiescence, each murder he assents to under pressure from the other two, Lepidus camply whines that he does so with a troubled conscience, giving another pained look and agreeing ‘but with a very heavy heart’. Mark Antony will then commend this ‘honour’ with a ‘quite right old chap!’ and clap him on the back, the murder given the ethical seal. Dressed as they are in British colonial garb, jodhpurs, boots, khaki shirts, in a canvas army tent somewhere in sub-Saharan Africa, Triumvirate’s portrayal of corruption within power would benfit the politics at the top of any imperial outfit.

The play succeeds in part as an exposition of power balances, with the setting exotic, but more interesting as the playing out of a situation of fluctuating tension – attempting a sort of Harold Pinter set up, but Ancient Rome not kitchen sink. And with utter tension as the order of the day, Matthew McVarish as Octavian Caesar, the ‘kid’ consul who shrewdly out manoeuvres his elders, could be more intimidating if he plays to the role’s darker shades. Where theme and message is secondary to sheer dramatic situation, stronger characters make for more powerful theatre, and the risk of overplaying complex themes need not be feared. This fear holds back an exciting performance, though it is difficult to tell whether this is the actors’ choice or the director’s.

Thelma Good

****

Blame Alex Garland’s The Beach if you must, but there’s nothing worse than meeting a young person who’s just been travelling. You know the sort, wispily bearded, white Rasta stoner-types with faraway eyes, foggy philosophical notions and the inevitable didgeridoo in their rucksacks they’re planning on taking on WOMAD. These are just the sort of nomadic Eurotrash whom Ross and his equally geeky pal, Keith, aspire to in Douglass Maxwell’s deceptively throw away but ultimately grim monologue.

As Ross leads us through his and Keith’s quest to become “proper teenagers”, the pair find themselves on a grand tour of far-flung housing estates, and only when they make for an old Italian castle that’s been converted into a youth hostel has does the adventure- and the trouble- really begin.

For an instant, it is easy to mistake this for yet another of Maxwell’s trademark sentimental treatises on neurotic, small-town boy outsiders. Soon, however, Maxwell doubles back on himself to open up a far more troubling world of teenaged angst, loss and the accidental extremes a runaway boy can fall into.

As Tony Cownie’s vivid, controlled and crystal clear production, led by Matthew McVarish’s central turn as Ross, twists and turns down increasingly dark alleys, the full freshness of Maxwell’s writing becomes apparent. Lovely impressionistic flourishes, such as when Ross falls asleep on a train full of fellow travellers, only to wake to a carriage full of grown-ups in suits, or how his mum’s homespun wisdom holds more truth than any wide-boy bravado, say much about feeling out of your depth in a fast track world in this breath of fresh air that leaves fustier fare in the shade.

Neil Cooper

If cruel detachment is the name of Joe Orton’s comic game, the increasingly powerful Scottish playwright Douglas Maxwell is involved in something else entirely: a long, rueful meditation on a kind of Scottish small-town provincialism which he loves to mock and criticise, but from which he can never completely distance himself. Nevertheless, his new 40-minute monologue Backpacker Blues, playing in the Play, Pie and Pint lunchtime theatre season at Oran Mor, represents a sharp and thoughtful attempt to move the subject on a little, shifting gear from comedy to horror with an assurance that briefly takes the breath away.

The speaker, Ross, is a harmless-looking Scottish 18-year-old who sits on a station platform somewhere in continental Europe reflecting on the failure of his backpacking holiday with his best mate and only friend. The point about Ross and his mate is that they are, in their own eyes, no good at “being young people”. They don’t get girls, they don’t do drugs, they have no interesting friends, they don’t win screenwriting competitions, their guidebook to Europe is rubbish and, worst of all, in an age when everyone is defined by their skill in surfing the culture with individuality and style, they keep falling off the metaphorical surfboard in a mess of boring remarks and banal opinions. So when they meet up with a much more interesting and stylish bunch of backpackers led by bullying Roy and beautiful Helen, the passions unleashed are simply too powerful for their unformed little souls to handle and the consequences rapidly darken towards the nasty and tragic.

In a sense, Backpacker Blues is an accomplished sketch of a piece; short, simple and full of Maxwell’s trademark cultural wisecracking and observation. But its structure is strong, its narrative stance towards the audience memorably clear and poignant, Tony Cownie’s production perfectly paced. And, in Matthew McVarish, fresh out of drama school this summer, the show has found itself a real star. His is a performance so sad, funny, engaging, versatile and perfectly balanced between the comedy and the chill of the piece that it’s difficult to believe this is McVarish’s first professional job.

Joyce McMillan

I’m sure we all dream when young of what we might be, but few of us realise our childhood ambitions. One Man Went to Busk is a simple yet effective telling of the story of someone who did. It tells the tale of Matthew, who starts as a busker in Glasgow and more or less by accident finds himself in London with a recording contract. Then fate takes over, and he finds himself back where he started.

This one man musical is performed and written by Matthew McVarish, an accomplished singer and songwriter who also plays all the character parts himself, assisted only by his own voice and music on CD. It’s an clever and entertaining show, and to an extent I presume it’s autobiographical, though the programme notes indicate that the real Matthew has never been reduced to busking, having been a successful musician and composer from an early age.

Neil Ingram

****(*)

There are only two shows left before One Man Went To Busk closes for this year’s Fringe – and this is not a show to miss. It’s stunning how much Matthew McVarish has packed into an hour’s worth of performance. One Man Went To Busk was better than the majority of last year’s Fringe shows in its earliest stages; in its current form it packed the house and held everyone rapt for its full length. McVarish tells the story of Matt, a busker who shoots to fame through a series of happy accidents, but learns in the end that he has been running away from what he’s born to do all along the way. His performance is goodnatured and endearing, and he shifts effortlessly from one character to another along the way. It is a bit frustrating to see how seamlessly McVarish blends his songwriting, acting, and playwrighting skills – this is the kind of talent most people can only dream of having!

As the only performer in the space, McVarish has cleverly devised a piece which allows him to use the strengths and possibilities offered by this seeming restriction. Manipulations of light and sound take place wholly on stage, and are incorporated into his movements and the movement of the story in precise and purposeful ways. Where a lot of shows about the music industry fall down is in the actual music used. Happily, this is not the case with One Man Went to Busk – one can definitely imagine McVarish’s original tunes sliding effortlessly up the charts and taking their place alongside today’s pop hits. The tracks are catchy enough to echo in one’s mind after the show, and should McVarish’s acting career not pan out (though this would be surprising, given how well his talents are showcased in this piece) one would think he had a promising future as a professional musician. One Man Went To Busk is not controversial or provocative, but simply a feel-good story pointing out the importance of finding one’s path and taking it. Audience members will leave feeling inspired, and fringe-goers should take the opportunity to see this genuine, emotionally uplifting piece of work before it closes on the 7th.

Rachel Lynn Brody

***

Breathtaking Aerial Acrobats, The Bridge The aim of the Boilerhouse Company is to present exciting new work blending live performance, music and film staged in unusual venues. In this world premiere of The Bridge, artistic director Paul Pinson and Roxana Pope have devised an outdoor theatrical extravaganza to thrill audiences with amazing high flying circus acrobatics. Staged in the open arena of the University’s Old Quad a giant crane holds a giant trapeze structure in place with two laddered platforms separated by a bridge.

Two carefree little girls Samra and Aida run across the bridge between their homes to see each other. A film backdrop shows them laughing arm in arm, playing together, as the girls jump and fly higher and higher. Their friendship is narrated in retrospect as a poetic memoir, “The bridge was my favourite place, it connected me to you”, one girl recalls. Teenage years follow with nights of music and dancing, but then crisis. War breaks out. No specific time or place – Ulster, Beirut, Bosnia, Iraq? – it’s the situation that counts. In political or religious conflict the girls are separated and their lives torn apart. A soldier guards the bridge, which is now out of bounds.

With a vibrant music soundtrack, live video-camera footage and amazing lighting, the aerial choreography depicts playful childhood freedom followed by danger, pursuit and escape. The freefalling skills of Chantal McCormick and Jennifer Paterson are breathtaking – both dancers and aerial acrobats with experience of circus performance.

Vivien Devlin