When you walk into the cauldron that hosts this adaptation of Irvine Welsh’s 1993 novel, you do not take your seat and await the emergence of an act from behind the curtain in the usual fashion – the show awaits you. As soon as you walk in, your ears are assailed by 90s dance music, actors buzz around you, and a crazed maniac prowls about, abusing and, if given the opportunity, throttling respectable theatre goers. If you are at all familiar with the Trainspotting canon, this maniac can be immediately identified as Francis Begbie, played with sadistic brilliance by Olivier Sublet; Begbie – in all of his iterations – has always been an awesome and terrifying presence, but in flesh and blood he can make even the bravest among in the audience cower in their seats.
It should surprise no one that this show is unashamedly vulgar and disgusting; any adaptation of Irvine Welsh’s famous novel would be incomplete without its fair share of gag inducing, heinous episodes but, because of the show’s closeness – some audience members took their seats directly next to the famous bookie’s toilet – it is delightfully immediate and visceral.
As with the book and film, the hilarious and obscene go hand in hand with the heart-rending and impassioned. All of the actors, but especially Andrew Barrett as Renton and Greg Esplin as Tommy, understand this notion and execute it superbly. We watch as Renton’s “choose life” justification for drug addiction mutates and distorts, revealing all of its gnarls and thorns; his pithy comments and quips become desperate and yearning as the walls close around him and his friends. You know what’s coming, but the emotional hammer comes down on you all the same. Every actor is mobilised to drive home a harrowing conclusion.
When adapting such famous, beloved material for the stage, writers and actors can end up sullied by the weight of responsibility, but playwright Harry Gibson and director Adam Spreadbury-Maher’s adaptation is fresh and, using Trainspotting’s abundant raw materials, they crafted something poignant, hilarious, and sensitive. The only complaint one could have would be that at 75 minutes, you’re left craving more.
Trainspotting Live, 18.30, Pleasance at EICC
