Para Handy – A Voyage Around The Stories of Neil Munro

27 Sep 2011 in Dance & Drama, Highland, Showcase

Empire Theatre, Eden Court, Inverness, 22 September 2011, and touring

IS IT nostalgia? The romance of the Highlands? A longing for simpler times? Whatever it is, there’s no denying the enduring appeal of Neil Munro’s tales about Para Handy, the captain of the Vital Spark, squabbling with his mild-mannered crew as they navigate between Gourock and Skye, Loch Fyne and Campbeltown, in a pre-war world that seems a whole lot more innocent.

Certainly the audience at a packed Eden Court at the start of this tour of large-scale Scottish stages greet the characters like old friends. They love Jimmy Chisholm as Para Handy, aka Peter Macfarlane, for the way he can be both bossy and good hearted, more like a child playing at being a skipper than a figure of real authority.

The cast of Open Books' colourful Para Handy

Open Book's colourful Para Handy (photo Ewan Weatherspoon)

They also love George Drennan as a pliable Dougie, taking Peter’s tall tales at face value. They love Sandy Nelson as a cheeky Sunny Jim, a sprite-like symbol of youth among the elderly crew. And they love Peter Kelly as a bookish Macphail, better equipped for the world of imagination than the awkward truths of the real world.

In John Bett’s big-hearted production for Open Book, there are strong performances too from Jimmy Yuill, in a series of larger-than-life comic cameos, as well as Annie Grace and Helen Mackay, bringing real character to the various romantic interests when not adding an extra layer of harmony to Robert Pettigrew’s lively score.

Throw in the black-and-white silent movie projections that add period detail to Annette Gillies’s nautical set, not to mention a cracking four-piece band led by composer Robert Pettigrew (supplemented by the actors), and you have a production full of life and cheer.

Indeed, if it wasn’t for the performers’ energy and feelgood spirit, it’d be easy for the whole thing to fall apart. Munro’s stories have little substance, trading on whimsicality not profundity. Their humour depends less on wit than on our familiarity with the quirks of each character. Their impact relies on our desire to be comforted not confronted. There is one faintly rude word in the whole thing and that’s so out of character it nearly stops the show.

I can’t claim it’s to my taste, though judging by the volume of laughter, I would seem to be in a minority. But it’s easy to enjoy the stomping ceilidh spirit of the production ­– as much musical as play – and to admire the generous vigour of the performances.

© Mark Fisher, 2011

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