AN ADMIRABLE VENTURE |
 BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE written by Alec Calderwood Adapted for this production by David McLachlan Directed by Cecilia Mooney Produced by David McLachlan Staged by Hamilton's Celtic Community at Otago Boys High School, Dunedin From 20 Mar 2013 to 23 Mar 2013 Reviewed by Terry MacTavish, 23 Mar 2013 |
In a combined effort that doubtless rivals the battle plans of the Caledonians, many locals, including students from at least four schools, have been recruited to swell the cast. The performers of Hamilton and Dunedin, after rehearsing separately, had just one day to bring it all together. It is a phenomenal undertaking that results in nearly sixty dedicated performers of all ages sharing an experience they will not forget.
The tale of Bonnie Prince Charlie, his claim to the throne, and the terrible defeat inflicted by the English on the Scots at Culloden in '45, is both romantic and tragic. Though it has all the ingredients of a thrilling story, the outcome was so terrible it strikes a deep chord yet in the hearts of many Scots. The consequences to Scotland were far-reaching and, due to the infamous Clearances, in part account for Dunedin's very existence. It's odd we're looking to Hamilton to remind us, but we're grateful.
The format, scripted by Alec Calderwood, is straightforward: Gregor Campbell narrates the story to children sitting at his feet, while the scenes he describes are enacted without dialogue. As the Young Pretender, Tyler Baker, bearing a resemblance to Prince William, accepts allegiance and raises his standard. The battles are vigorously conducted, and the crowd scenes are enlivened with bagpipes, fiddles and sword dancing.
An onstage choir in good voice sings the beloved songs of Scotland: Charlie is m'darling of course, and the Skye Boatsong, and somehow Marie's Wedding is in there. Most poignant of all, as the young men go off to fight, “But me and my true love will never meet again, on the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond...”
The open stage of the Maurice Joel Theatre at OBHS is just right for the large cast and the scenes of combat or village life. Slides of key events and people are projected onto the cyclorama, smoke billows over the battlefields, and the auditorium is creatively used, with highland warriors making their famous downhill charge from the back of the theatre. The costumes may not stand up to close scrutiny (and women didn't wear kilts in '45), but the overall effect is fine, with the tartans clearly opposing the smart red jackets of the English.
It is a frankly amateur production, and that is part of its charm. You might call it folk-theatre, a community involvement where telling their own story truthfully, matters more than the egos of the actors. The stolid demeanour of the serious narrator with the beautiful Scots accent, the occasional jostling to remember positions onstage, odd bumps in the wings, the anxious tugging at a sleeve to conceal a modern watch, the bairns' sly peeks at the audience: all have an endearing quality because of the sincerity of the intention.
Even the cynical may find it hard not to shed a tear, when the families gather round the slain at the Battle of Culloden. The description of the virtual genocide that followed is shocking. And finally the Clearances, the actors drifting forlornly away as the Highlanders are forced to emigrate. Which brings us back to Dunedin.
This really is an admirable venture, for some the realisation of a dream, and deserves a full house on its second and final performance on Saturday. Welcome to the Edinburgh of the South, Hamilton!
*If there is any of Clan Campbell in trouble tonight, tak note – we MacTs rise for the Campbells of Argyll! Not for naught is oor motto: “We do not forget!” – gie us a text anytime!
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