Theatre

Butterfly, Oran Mor, Glasgow

Mary Brennan

THREE STARS

Up on the windswept roof of a water-tower, two men - one middle-aged, the other young enough to be his son - are battling with the unpleasant facts of their life: it's 1987, the Caterpillar factory where they work is closing and unemployment is rife in the area. This is the initial gist of Anne Hogg's two-hander Butterfly, her first play to be produced and first up in Oran Mor's A Play, a Pie and a Pint spring season. In fact, this opening slice of social realism is a bit of a smoke-screen. What's really troubling young Jamie is the quagmire of his personal life. "Is it Linda?" queries his Uncle Davie, who is not really his uncle, but has looked out for him since he was born. Jamie's long-time girlfriend Linda is only the half of it. You can probably guess where Hogg's plot-line is leading, but again - as secrets spill out - you realise that this is really a play about men and their buttoned-up feelings. Behind all the default reliance on swear words or casually-crude banter there are wistful dreams, and a yearning, heartfelt belief that every son should know his father and vice-versa.

Not every beginner has the luck that has befallen Hogg in terms of casting. Paul James Corrigan (Jamie) and Frank Gallagher (Davie) can talk pish (and tosh) with gallus ease, but just look at the body language, the facial expressions, and what has to stay unsaid between the characters is made affectingly clear. Maybe not quite the "black comedy" as advertised - but the emerging depth and sincerity of the performances make it more than worthwhile.

sponsored by Heineken