Theatre

Dirt Under the Carpet

Oran Mor, Glasgow

Mary Brennan

three stars

IN the wee sma’ hours, the body on the office floor is waiting to be discovered by the cleaners. Whodunnit? Well the late Mr B wasn’t exactly a popular boss: think “control freak” with a complaining mean streak. Now he and the grubby side of his office dealings are just a messy streak waiting to be swept away – albeit not under the carpet. There are no carpets in Mr B’s all-white domain, just endless gleaming surfaces kept spotless by the invisible hands of cleaners like Lorraine and Muriel.

In Rona Munro’s short two-hander – presented in association with Aberdeen Performing Arts – you could say that both women are the real victims, here. Maybe twenty-something Lorraine (Karen Fishwick) has a shadowy past, but that past saw her badly exploited by a guy who shared Mr B’s casual arrogance. Meanwhile perfectionist Muriel (Joyce Falconer), has drudged without cutting a single corner for thirty-five years, only to find that her labours have been taken for granted, even by the family she resolutely equipped for better things.

This is where the dirt that lurks under the carpet suggests the underclass in society, meant to be grateful for any job – not least in an Aberdeen where the oil boom has gone phut! Two women on-stage do not an action thriller make, however, which is where the origins of this piece as a (long ago) radio play surface. Everything – be it the unseen Mr B, office staff, or the lie of the land outside – has to be described: Munro opts for heightened, often poetically evocative language. Both performers embrace the challenge with relish, Falconer’s growly-rasping Doric accents regularly pack a canny punch-line while Fishwick’s reverie on the dawn sparkle of the Granite City is all the more magical because it’s spoken with such bright affection.

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