Men Should Weep Review: The Harsh Tenements of Glasgow Brought to Life

By Geordie Coles

On seeing Men Should Weep by Ena Lamont Stewart, it was always going to be a tale of two cities for me. One was the play’s own setting of Glasgow. The other was my Grandfather’s Edinburgh. Both set in 1930s tenements, the gruelling post-depression era was an economic bludgeon to the entire world and was particularly felt by the lower echelons of society. When I was watching this ambitious play, first performed in 1947 and now at The StAge, I was watching my grandfather’s upbringing unfold before my eyes — yet his fate in the tenement was certainly not as bad as that of the Morrison family.

Abigail Harper, creator of Seamore Theatre Productions and director of this play, has her own strong links to Glasgow as her Grandparents grew up there. ‘Listening to their stories and hearing the musicality of their speech’ inspired Harper to make Men Should Weep the debut play of her exciting new company, which strives to promote Scottish playwrights and culture in St Andrews theatre. She evidently has a good team behind her as well, with Rowan Kehrer as executive producer, Abigail Young as artistic director and Natacha Gamby as marketing officer. Creating a new society, let alone an entire production company, is tricky at university, so their steadfast commitment to this new project is very admirable, and a large congratulations to them for achieving this first production.

And what an undertaking it was! There were 14 actors and 14 crewinvolved in the play, which would probably have made me weep if I had to deal with that magnitude of production nearing the end of 1^stSemester. As I walk into The StAge, with a hearty pint in hand, I am greeted to some classy musicians, Fergus Tong on piano and Harry Zaimovic on guitar, giving the full crowd some lilting Scottish music: they play some nice things in between the scenes of the play as well. I am also greeted to Harper’s well-designed set, managed by Sophia Earl and assisted by Alex Mackie, which immediately transportseveryone to the tenement setting: an armchair, a simple kitchen,everything brown except for the drapes which mirror the archetypal washing lines of such a setting. The young children of the Morrison family, Jonathan Stock as Ernest and Kara Darroch as Edie, play some hopscotch in front of the audience before the lights dim. The yellow glow fades and we begin — and so will I in attempting this story which spans two and a half hours.

The two central characters of the play are Mr and Mrs Morrison. Heather Tiernan plays Maggie, the hard-on-her-luck Mum, not by any means perfect, who tries to make ends meet for her family: Tiernan is the anchor of the play and performs the concerned mother well, giving a convincing portrayal of her strife. In counterpoint to this is her husband John, played by Euan Stewart, who struggles to provide for the family due to his unemployed status, for ‘there’s no work for men, plenty for women,’ which leads to several outbursts of rage. The rage of the male figures, as with the son Alec played by Will Hastie,is seen to be an outlet for their unemployed frustration, a recurring theme in the play. Euan Stewart characterises the husband with a commendable gravity in his non-abusive moments; his Glaswegian accent, like Tiernan’s, is on the money.

Euan Stewart as John Morrison. Courtesy of Seamore Theatre Productions.

The picture of the family is destitute in Act One. The fun-seeking daughter Jenny, played by Hannah Glen, walks out on the family; Alec is seen to be interminably drunk; Lily, the Auntie played by Sophie Rose Jenkins, a foil and constant reminder of their poverty; one of the unseen children, Bertie, has TB. So, in short, it’s all looking down in Act One.

There are however moments of mirth: Clara Kenny’s quips as the Granny, the pesky removal men played with a dash of farce by Luke Robinson and Jonathan Stock, the antics between other families in the tenements. The one real excitement which got the audience going was the flirtatious encounter between John and his daughter-in-law Isa, played by Caitlin Conway (who acted the 1930s very well), where we all actually believed for a moment they would get it on — yet, they didn’t.

Act Two is a little brighter. It’s Christmas and bits of tinsel and paper snowflakes ornament the set. Jess Payne the costumer decks out a few more characters in colourful clothes to represent a slight change in esteem. They have a wireless. They have a little more food. Even Jenny returns home with some money. Hooray! Yet, of course, the undercurrent of Lamont Stewart’s play is indeed depressive and to get to this end point it has to be brought down by the boorish men: Alec almost kills his wife with a knife at one point and John has to refuse Jenny’s offer of money because he is too proud (thankfully Maggie takes it instead).

Heather Tiernan as Maggie Morrison. Courtesy of Seamore Theatre Productions.

It is said that the original ending of the play had to be modified in 1983, and there was me thinking it couldn’t get much gloomier. I’m sure people left feeling an array of emotions, which was Lamont Stewart and Harper’s intention, I’m sure. Bleakness probably was the chief feeling. Another feeling was confusion, great confusion. This was firstly due to Lamont Stewart’s writing, which is quite meandering, in an Ibsen fashion. It was especially impressive that the central actors were able to remember so many scenes which seemed of so little consequence. Secondly, confusion arose because of the Glaswegian inflection — an accent which even the most prolific actors would struggle with. Obviously all the actors had to speak the same, but because some were less confident than others it meant that their words turned into a gargle. This then meant that some critical aspects of the play were lost or jumbled: at one point I thought that John had TB and that Alec and Isa were siblings — a mistake which was rectified in the interval.

This is something which I’m sure the directors will pick up on fortonight's show. With such intricate words, enunciation is key. You can’t let a sentence sound like a syllable, each word must be defined; this is admittedly easier said than done in dialectical speech. Projection is also critical: it can’t be that the only time the audience can properly understand an actor is when they are yelling abuse to a family member. One more thing that has a lot of potential is the sound and lighting, which was mostly okay, but a few botched cues did jar just a little — but a good effort nonetheless!

With these few tweaks, I think the final night of Men Should Weepwill be stellar. Harper and Young have done a good job in formulating this difficult play by Lamont Stewart; the era of depression and rigid gender hierarchies is expressed, maybe too much by the playwright, but is handled well in this performance. The play is a reminder of the crucial role of women during the period, the glue of each family, which was much overlooked at the time. When my Grandfather Chriswas told to go to work by his Dad at a young age, it was his Mum, against the odds, who pushed for schooling and then university. If she didn’t have the tenacity for such a thing, then what of my own Mum? What of the person writing this very article? So, I thank you, to all of those like Maggie Morrison — the lynch pins of each home — and would recommend seeing this stark portrayal of her and her family.

Men Should Weep by Eva Lamont Stewart, Seamore Theatre Productions, performed at The StAge, Nov. 4^th, 19:00.

Tickets can be bought here: https://www.yourunion.net/events/7986/2769/