Letter of Last Resort and Good With People

★★★★
theatre review (edinburgh) | Read in About 3 minutes
Published 13 Aug 2012

For the more prudent Fringe theatregoer, few productions offer better value for money than this Traverse double-header from two of Scotland's leading playwrights.

Letter of Last Resort, by David Greig, is a philosophical exploration of nuclear deterence: the concept of mutually assured destruction, which carries the scarily prophetic acronym, MAD. It's the new Prime Minister's first day in office, when in walks a grey civil servant—John from 'Arrangements'—who needs her to write a very important letter. In this letter, the PM must decide whether, in the event of a nuclear strike on London, the UK's Trident nuclear submarines will retaliate or whether they won't.

This is a fast-paced, almost Sorkinian, political dialogue: it's honest, clever and entertaining. Greig is an expert guide through the subject, explaining the technicalities, procedures and processes of the UK military bureacracy in a way that is sparky, funny and surprisingly accessible.

But where Letter of Last Resort truly shines is in its engagement with the philosophical side of the nuclear weaponry debate. Its clear-headed, balanced and endlessly witty engagement with the ethical and logical dimensions reveals genuine complexity of thought; Greig's portrayal of the conflict between international law, the logic behind mutually assured destruction and the morality of ordering the murder of 20 million civilians as high farce is magical to behold.

Shored up by faultless performances from Belinda Lang and Simon Chandler, Letter of Last Resort is yet another reminder of why David Greig is held up as one of the UK's finest living playwrights.

On the other half of the bill is David Harrower's Good With People, a kitchen sink drama set in the Scottish town of Helensburgh, which borders the Faslane naval base, home to the UK's nuclear submarines. This is something of a comedy of manners—albeit without the comedy—exploring the conflicts and snobbery between Faslane's submariners, their families and the Helensburgh locals.

Where Letter of Last Resort deals with high politics, Good With People is much more local in scope. It focuses on two ordinary people: Evan, the grown-up and worldly son of a navy seaman, and Helen, who works at the B&B he is staying in during his brief return to the town. In such a small community, inevitably the two have history.

Good With People examines the basis of social misunderstandings, of bitterness carried over for years—even decades—and the impact of living in the shadow of the military-industrial apparatus of the state. And it does so in a solid and compelling way. Blythe Duff's turn as the uptight Scottish hotelier is the beating heart of the production, a picture of sincere reserve in contradistinction to Richard Rankin's hot-headed visitor. The dialogue and character development is vintage Harrower, giving away only as much as is necessary. It is a subtle, intriguing work.

However, Good With People suffers for sharing a ticket with Greig's far more ambitious production. Indeed, one can't help but feel that, as a double-bill, the two don't quite work together. Though linked by a common thread—nuclear weaponry—it's a link that feels a little tenuous. While Greig's meta-physical exploration of political theory tackles the issue head on, Harrower has the Bomb very much in the background. It's an unsatisfying blend.

Then again, given the fact you're getting two plays—one good, the other truly exemplary—for the price of one, this is a minor quibble that can be easily swallowed.