The National Theatre of Scotland‘s Scenes For Survival celebrates its third week with new work from Tam Dean Burn, Rona Munro and David Greig.
venusvirus was Monday’s offering – an extract from Tam Dean Burn’s 2007 show, Venus as a Boy. Cupid (Burn) is nearing the end of his life and is slowly turning gold. He spits gold into the sink – and realises with sorrow and some fascination – that the gold isn’t just the fillings from his teeth. Confined to his bed, he muses on what his life has meant. This is a poetic, magnetic performance from one of Scotland’s leading actors. Co-directed by Burn himself, alongside performance artist Christine Devaney, venusvirus has also been beautifully edited by digital artist Kim Beveridge. Heightened also by a haunting soundtrack from Venus as a Boy‘s writer, Luke Sutherland, this is an almost hypnotic piece of film.
Next up was Rona Munro’s Scott and Laura, six minutes of verging-on-ludicrous yet ridiculously gripping drama. Scott calls Laura, telling her that she has to come and get him because his wife is going to kill him. Munro’s script is taut, tense and suddenly funny. Scott (James Mcardle) is a man on the back foot, clutching for a way out of his self-created predicament. Dani Heron as Laura gives a cracking yet understated performance, apparently capitulating Scott’s requests (or is she?) This is a well-crafted, immensely satisfying and sparky piece of drama.
The final scene of the week is David Greig’s Bees. In an intimate, wistful performance, Lorraine McIntosh recalls being 20 or 19, at a party in a student flat. The party’s winding down and dawn is approaching when her soulmate offers a meditation on the meaning of life, adroitly blowing her mind – before McIntosh blows her chances. Greig’s new short talks of protons and neutrons, bees in a cathedral, nature, trees, the soft air, which come together to create a wonderful piece of reflection. One phrase spoken – “And it’s not god, but maybe it’s enough” – acts as a comforting message of solace while we stay home amidst this pandemic.
In contrast to last week’s indulgent 18-minute epic Fatbaws, this week’s scenes are perkily and punchily brief. So you’ve got no excuse for not grabbing yourself a cup of tea and cosying up with YouTube to enjoy the set.