Wee Andy

Paddy Cunneen’s sequel to the outstanding Fleeto—which is being performed in the same venue on alternating days—runs parallel to the first play and deals with its fallout, as a surgeon in a Glasgow hospital attempts to salvage the life of a knife-attack victim while shouldering a weight of middle-class guilt. We’re bluntly confronted not just with the gory damage that a blade can inflict on a young face, but the way in which the authorities are powerless—perhaps even reluctant—to halt a vicious cycle of eye-for-an-eye violence.

The titular Wee Andy (Neil Reynolds) has been slashed by an unknown assailant, leaving him gruesomely deformed. As his friend furiously exacts random revenge, his mother (Pauline Knowles) grieves by his bedside and pleads with his surgeon (Steven McNicoll)—a native of their impoverished scheme come good—to thwart the looming presence of gang-leader Kenzie (played with unnerving brute presence by the excellent Neil Leiper). Angrily mindful of a time when neighbours were to be trusted, not feared, she’s determined to stop the rot no matter the consequences.           

The use of elastic bands and cling-film pulled across the actors faces to simulate wounds is a cleverly simple and effective device. As in Fleeto, the dialogue flows with a rhythmic, fluid Shakespearean flourish that lends the story an almost mythical feel. Even if it wants for quite the same pace and intensity as its sister-piece, Wee Andy is every bit as compelling. As half of a thoroughly intelligent and provocative whole is to be strongly recommended.