As a piece of theatre, Doglife is easy to criticise. As a piece of honesty… it’s a more complicated exercise. Part two of a devised trilogy, the show centres around the experiences of a former gangland enforcer, Thomas McCrudden, who "plays himself".
Focusing on his attempts to love and be loved, McCrudden begins with his childhood on a housing estate where you were either a victim, a witness or a perpetrator of violence; he became the latter. What follows is a series of difficult, often horrifying interactions with people from his past—non-actors and mostly women—all of whom sit at the sides of the stage throughout.
In fact, one of the most potent aspects of the drama—apart from some eviscerating performances—is that they must watch Thomas repeat his inability to respond to love, with other women. More than one describes the way his eyes go dark.
This interaction becomes the refrain in Doglife, in a way that feels truthful, but also lacking in further insight or progression. The piece ultimately feels like little more than an extended confession, without any real reflection or resolution, which is problematic for the way that violence is repeatedly played out through women’s bodies. One, for instance, experiences McCrudden’s attacks on other men as pain, screaming as she feels like she’s losing fingers.
Disappointingly, a woman loosely playing the role of therapist says that women desire men like McCrudden “because they know that there’s never a dull moment”. To that, we say: there is little that’s dull about Doglife, but not much to make it appealing, either.
https://tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/doglife