The Pillowman

One way to measure the effectiveness of a theatrical shock is by counting the number of mouths still hanging open five minutes later.

Seeing this superb production by XLC Theatre Company for a second time (it was first staged in the Citizens’ Circle Studio in February, and the company was swiftly invited back) there’s an added thrill to be had in absorbing audience reactions to exchanges that are at turns horrifying, hilarious and heartbreaking – and occasionally all three at once.

Anyone familiar with the work of Martin McDonagh, who makes most black comedy look pale grey, will be expecting something brilliant and brutal. However, even fans are likely to be wrong-footed by a play that leads its audience down a familiar path, only to end up abandoning them in a dark wood.

The Pillowman is sent in a police station in a totalitarian state, where abattoir worker Katurian Katurian has been brought to answer questions about the short stories he writes. The beatings begin at the same time as the questions, despite the writer’s best efforts to co-operate with his captors and second-guess their suspicions. His insistence that there is no anti-government message woven into his tales turns out to be irrelevant – it is the plots, not the political subtexts, that have brought him here. The investigation is connected with copycats murders of young children, not with bringing a dissident into line. At least, that’s what the police are telling him.

It’s hugely encouraging to see such a high quality production from this young company, which was established to offer acting graduates of Langside College the chance to work with established professionals. David Lee-Michael’s direction is tight and focused (and later brilliantly imaginative), Alan Craig’s tinkling music is chillingly appropriate, and the casting is excellent.

Kevin Mains’s Katurian is a defiant and sympathetic everyman and Mark Prendergast is an entertaining psycho cop, but it’s Richard Rankin as detective Tuploski who makes the interrogation scenes truly electric. The role of Michal, Katurian’s mentally handicapped brother, is arguably the juiciest of the play, but that doesn’t mean it isn't also a huge challenge. Iain De Caestecker’s extraordinary performance is a devastatingly convincing combination of vocals, physical tics and facial contortions that strikes exactly the right note in a play that is unafraid to offend and appal.