Brae, Shetland
Four stars
There's lots to be said against the motor car – its
atomising effect, its ugliness, its environmental fallout – but none of that is
the concern of Ignition. Wils Wilson's extraordinary show for the National
Theatre of Scotland and Shetland Arts presents the car not in opposition to the
culture but the very definition of it. Here in Shetland, home of the Sullom
Voe oil terminal and
a rare number of under-age drivers, the car is the factor common to every life
experience, from the dash to the antenatal ward to the last hearse-driven
journey of all.
That's why we experience Ignition primarily from
inside our own vehicles. It is from the back seat that we watch a parkour crew
leapfrogging a Volvo as ballroom dancers waltz by. It is while driving from
site to site that we pick up a hitchhiker who sings a ukulele lament. And it is
within someone else's parked car, one of them gloriously entwined in wool like
a giant tea cosy, that we hear stories of seaside escapes and roadside
breakdowns.
In this way, Ignition is not about cars at all,
but about the life they make possible. It is a community looking at itself in
the rear-view mirror and seeing something unexpectedly fascinating. Drawing on
true-life tales gathered by Lowri Evans
in the guise of the folkloric White Wife, the show presents us with a culture
in all its human variety; we are fellow travellers with athletes, dancers,
knitters, singers, poets, musicians, the young and the old.
It's not a perfectly smooth ride, it takes time
to get into gear and suffers the odd "are we nearly there yet?"
moment, but when we reconvene in the village hall where Hugh Nankivell's band leads us through songs
about road signs and sea views, we feel the heart-warming rush of shared
experience and a journey well made.
Mark Fisher
At Bigton Hall, Shetland, 26–27 March (01595–745555)
then touring until 30 March. Details: www.nationaltheatrescotland.com
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