Plays with a message are not all make-believe - Karyn McCluskey

The creative industry in Scotland is taking a terrible hit. Thousands of people have lost livelihoods and careers that have taken decades of practice and dedication – and that give people endless joy.

Janey Godley in Scenes for Survival

Dancers, theatre companies, film-makers and artists of all kinds not only entertain us, but provoke us and make us think in different ways about complex topics. Sometimes the most difficult truths are only fully explored through creative works. There were a couple of things in the last few weeks from our creative talent in Scotland that made me roar with laughter, and then take some real moments of reflection.

The first was David Greig. An uber-talented Scottish Playwright and Theatre Director at the Lyceum in Edinburgh, whose creativity has moved more online. He recently asked Twitter: ‘what’s the best Edinburgh bus route?’ The replies exemplify Scottish humour at its best and a love for the variety of the city of Edinburgh from Easter Road, the home of Hibs, to Portobello and those journeys that are more like a social event than a commute.

David has kept the thread going, sparking poetry and humour about an everyday thing that has made me see it in a different light. I’d pay to see it a play.

The second was Janey Godley and Jack Lowden’s Alone from the National Theatre of Scotland’s ‘Scenes for Survival’. It’s a seemingly simple story of Betty dealing with the aftermath of her husband Jim’s death from Covid-19 and her struggle to reconnect with her son. Only there’s more to this story. Jim was very particular. Betty tells us how he scrutinised the contents of her handbag, how he would insist that she kept her hair up, her voice down and her makeup light.

Beneath the description of his death was the narrative of a controlling and coercive relationship, and two lives diminished by a man whose influence was all consuming. Betty, played by Janey Godley, shakes down her long lockdown hair in the first instalment; a glorious moment of freedom.

It made me think of the people I know that are in relationships like this, mainly older women although it’s no respecter of age or gender. Suffocated by another person’s attempts to wear down their resolve, their identity and their ability to hope.

Much has been written about domestic abuse during lockdown, but for those women I know who have been there, their joy has often been a job where they can be themselves, earn their own money (although its often another locus of control) and feel valued. It often saved their sanity and provided them with comfort. “A wee job”, many would say to me with pride and satisfaction. As the news unfolded over the week of more job losses, it’s hard not to think of the many women, and others, who won’t just be losing their job, but losing their escape route and the opportunity to see other lives, and think ‘what if?’.

Less than a year ago the thought of a virus so deadly that it would fundamentally alter our way of life seemed like something from a play. But the thing about great works of creativity is that suddenly, without warning, they’re not quite make-believe. There are so many people like Betty in Scotland, silently begging for their escape route. So thanks to Scotland’s creatives, our storytellers and to the organisations who are there for the times when we watch something and think, somebody, finally, is talking about me.

Karyn McCluskey is chief executive of Community Justice Scotland