A NOBLE FOOL, SCOTTISH STORYTELLING CENTRE, EDINBURGH
★★★★★
A hour of hypnotic storytelling
Duncan Macrae was a man of principle and a staunch supporter of the concept of a Scottish National Theatre that would speak to the masses in their ain tongue. At the vanguard of the Scottish Theatre Renaissance of the 1930s, 40s and 50s, he was a familiar face to audiences whether on stage, film and latterly, on TV in the landmark series, The Vital Spark.
In this homage to Macrae, the actor is vividly and affectionately brought back to life by Michael Daviot in an hour of hypnotic storytelling. With just a chair, foot-stool, scattering of props, costume laden coat stand and a screen to dress a simple black box set, the life and times of Macrae unfold in random fashion in a well conceived and witty script, also by Daviot.



A five minute call followed by a toilet flush herald Macrae’s arrival onstage. He is performing a scene from Laurence Olivier’s production of Eugène’s play Ionesco Rhinoceros… but all is not as it seems. The actor, who died in 1967 of a brain tumour at the age of just 61, is speaking from the afterlife, where he is forced to relive random memories at a moments notice. As such, he finds himself flitting from one short, snappy vignette to another, each affording an insight into the father of two’s eccentric existence, from amateur performer to teacher, professional actor and single man to husband of Peggy.
In a beautifully mercurial performance, Daviot skips, strides and slips from memory to memory in an affectionate tribute to the Glasgow man who became a champion of the early Edinburgh Fringe. Delivering extracts from productions as diverse as Jamie The Saxt, An Inspector Calls, A Satire of the Three Estates, Let Wives Tak Tent, Our Town, Gog and Magog, The Tintock Cup, Loot, Macbeth and more, Daviot exhibits a commanding range and stage presence that is quite mesmerising.
It’s a fascinating insight into a thoughtful, complex and sometimes difficult actor who once confessed, when faced with his first film, The Brothers, that he had to “work very hard to make his acting fit into the camera”.
Of course, no play about Macrae would be complete without a rendition of The Wee Cock Sparra, the party piece that became his signature, a Hogmanay favourite and the albatross around his neck – Daviot recites this to great laughter and applause.
The production is enchanted by Roddy Simpson’s sparse but effective lighting and sound design, which holds the perfect balance of lightness and threat, and Michael Nardone’s succinct, well-paced direction and clever use of visuals, all of which combine with Daviot’s passion for his character to create a masterful hour of must see theatre.


It was quite excellent. I would love to see it again as I’m sure there’s a lot I missed.