George Washbourn
While watching D.C. Jackson’s play, I was hit by my own wall of nostalgia for my lost childhood. Summer days spent running through the local Kentish fields, bike rides, football games in the park. Alas, if only that were true – the introduction of game consoles, computers and television into our household quickly cut off the joys of the outside world and childish play. The captivating charm and comedic whims of The Wall, a sadly unrecognisable and Luddite play, shine brightly through, working their endearing magic and reminding an audience of fully grown adults what it is to be a child in a pre-technological age.
The play finds itself in Stewarton, a dead-end forgotten Scottish town where everyone from the local butcher to the town scallywag knows one another. Barry, Robert, Michelle and Norma are on their summer holidays, trying to amuse themselves in the gloom of their hometown. The wall, a decrepit line of four boxes centre stage, becomes a regular haunt for the four kids and the local ‘neds’. What appears to be nothing more than a crumbling wall is elevated to a vivacious hub where our characters experience first love, familial strife and their first look into the adult world.
After a somewhat laboured start, the play blossoms into an entirely warm treatise on adolescence. Served with a healthy dose of nostalgia, the adult cast showcase things that are totally relatable to its audience. The cloyingly awkward interactions between different genders, emotional overreactions, mild rebellion that at the time seemed to touch on lunacy, and an overt fascination and curiosity about alcohol certainly trigger memories in my mind.
The nostalgia also extends to what childhood would have been before the proliferation of gadgets that now dictate our lives. It is set in a time in which children’s lives were not inundated with consoles and hand-held devices, and seems to portray the quintessence of traditional childlike play. Within its graffiti-laden set, one statement reads “Turn Off Ur Televisions”, subtly summing up the subversive ethos of the play.
It is also a play that interacts with its social environment to strong comedic effect. A recurrent gag that sees Norma repeatedly use the Scots language term “how” in place of “why”, as an exercise in “holding on to their folk culture”, successfully brings in the laughs. Another scene, in which Barry laments that he is going to kill himself after his new girlfriend Michelle moves two bus rides away, prompts Robert to implore him otherwise, saying that he has yet to “use crack or smack, drive a car or visit Alton Towers” and has so much to live for. A hilarious moment, but one we fear is perhaps a reflection on the kinds of aspirations children in run down areas hold.
The Wall is a delightful play, drawing from its strong comedic performances to deliver a charming and fun-filled one act piece. It offers you a fleeting respite from the daily grind and reminds you what life was like before the wave of responsibility keeled us over, leaving you feeling endeared and just a teensy bit jealous.
The Wall is playing at The Hope Theatre until 15 November. For more information and tickets, see The Hope Theatre website.