Welcome to August's newsletter from SAST. It's much, much later than we'd like it to be. We hope you've been enjoying some live theatre now shows have started back at theatres all over the country.

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Online we listened to The Mother Load by Lynda Radley, as part of Sound Stage, the collaboration between Pitlochry Festival Theatre and The Lyceum, Edinburgh. Set in an ante-natal class, a group of expectant mothers work through their fears, expectations, and messy realities. It was a very funny, absorbing, look at a monumental life change that art tends to neatly skip over. 

Also on Sound Stage we listened to Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil, by Gary McNair, a play about fans of Cowdenbeath Football Club, clinging on during the difficult season of 1992/93, based on the book by Ron Ferguson. With some delightful comedy characters, cracking one liners, and poignant observations on the decline of an industrial community attached to a losing team, it was a winner. 

On BBC iplayer we watched Hemmingway, a six-part series about Ernest Hemingway, who faced a surprising amount of trauma after becoming America's most acclaimed author, including two plane crashes, losing his home in the Cuban Revolution, the death of his wife and a stay in a mental institution. We also watched the harrowing Uprising, a three-part documentary by Steve McQueen about the mostly forgotten New Cross fire that killed 13 black teenagers in 1981, and led to a Black People's Day of Action, a protest that would be a turning point in relations between the community, the police and the media. 

But there's also been the return of live theatre, and we were through at the Edinburgh Fringe last weekend. It's a much quieter Edinburgh than it is normally, due to there only being about ten per cent of the usual number of shows, but that at least made it much easier to get around.

I Am Not Victoria Wood by Julie Knight sees a former VW impersonator resorted to doing vlogs in her mum's spare room. There are some lovely interpretations of Victoria Wood sketches and songs, but there wasn't enough going on around about it to make the whole thing really stand up for us.

Double Drop by Lisa Jen Brown and Dirty Protest Theatre depicted a coming of age tale set in the Welsh rave culture. It was a nice story that resonated with its intended audience and was brought to life well by two talented actresses. The venue, outdoors in front of Edinburgh Castle, was a mismatch for the production. They would have been much better served by a small sweaty room, which would have made the dialogue hit harder and served the soundtrack better.

Mediocre White Male by Will Close and Joe Von Malachowski was the pick of the shows we saw. Close himself delivers the hour-long monologue which is funny and unsettling in equal measure. We were taken through a range of emotions as the story played out. The run is finished now, but look out for its inevitable touring slots.

Talking Heads by Alan Bennett
and
Inside No. 9 by Steve Pemberton and Reece Sheersmith.

This month we've been reading television scripts. Inside No. 9 is a half-hour comedy horror series by one half of The League of Gentlemen, Reece Sheersmith and Steve Pemberton. Beautifully structured, each episode contains a 'devastating secret' and a 'chilling revelation'. The poignancy of The 12 Days of Christine in series 2 established their reputation for combining low-key laughs with an emotional sting. The introductions in this box-set of series 1-3 includes their advice to writers - 'keep your eyes, ears and mind open and follow your instincts'.
Hmm, I often get asked that. I'd have to say, and it sounds silly really... there was a little girl with, I think, Hodgkin's disease - I don't get involved with the illness side - and her dream was to be a postman. That's all. Not give a letter to the Queen or meet Postman Pat, just be a postman. Nigel shunted it my way - zero press interest there, of course, but when we give her that letter and told her to put it through the letter box... the little giggle after it landed... as if it meant the whole world to her... Then she dropped down dead, right there on the doorstep. Press went mad for it. So up yours, Nigel! That was my favourite one. 
Alan Bennett's Talking Heads started as a stand alone play, A Woman of No Importance, before becoming a landmark series of monologues in the 1980s, followed up by another series in the 1990s, that looked more dated, but was equally successful. The characters chat to the audience about the mundane details of their daily life slowly revealing a shocking secret or event as they go along. In performance they stayed as still as possible, and each section ends with a seemingly throwaway remark that carries the plot forward. While the action happens in the intervals, a huge amount of tension is generated by the gap between the impression the character wishes to give, and the reality of their situation. The plays created great roles for older actors, most famously, Thora Hird and Patricia Routledge. 
Went in the night. They thought I was asleep so they didn't bother to put the screens round. Saw it all. Putting the white socks on. Bit of giggling. Right as rain when she came to bed. Made me promise to wake her up if her taxi came. Well, it came in the finish.