Tutti Frutti

*** His Majesty's, Aberdeen

Mark Fisher
Tuesday September 26, 2006
The Guardian

A good John Byrne gag is a thing of baroque beauty. It is erudite and earthy, linguistically playful and daft. When Tam Dean Burn's bequiffed Vincent, guitarist with 1960s one-hit wonders the Majestics, speculates about finding a replacement for their late frontman, he suggests it might be time to find someone a tad younger. "Tad Younger," comes the deadpan reply. "Country blues howler from Banff."

Tutti Frutti is dripping with such stuff. Based on the 1987 TV series that put Robbie Coltrane, Emma Thompson and Richard Wilson on the map, Byrne's stage reworking is the sophisticate's equivalent of a rock'n'roll tribute musical. When the ageing band aren't bickering, philandering and driving young girls to suicide as they plough their way through Scotland's least auspicious clubs on a jubilee tour, they're trotting out foot-stomping versions of Rock Around the Clock and plaintive a cappella renditions of Only the Lonely.

As such, Tony Cownie's production for the National Theatre of Scotland plays to a hugely appreciative audience, but in a staging that hasn't got the full measure of Byrne's writing, nor enough sense of joie de vivre to counteract his mordant wit.

The challenge is set by the script, which consists of short, sketch-like scenes with the fastest of transitions. Neil Murray's two-tier set - its fussy black-and-white design conflicting with the play's primary-coloured spirit - does a slick job at emulating the TV-style jump cuts, but it confines the action where a more open design might have liberated it.

The use of microphones is distancing, and encourages the actors to underplay characters who should be larger than life. In the Robbie Coltrane role of Danny, co-opted into the band after his brother's funeral, Tom Urie gives a tentative performance, holding back on the comedic force of Byrne's language, although he comes into his own as a singer. Dawn Steele takes on the Emma Thompson role of Suzi Kettles with aplomb, playing battered wife and glamorous guitarist with equal panache. And John Ramage makes a funny Eddie Clockerty, the sleazy manager, although he's too often boxed in at the back of the stage.

It all adds up to a good time, but this material deserves to be great. As a production, it's still three steps from heaven.

Until Saturday. Box office: 01224 641122. Then touring.

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