Moira Bell is a legend, and she's back for just one night as part of the Glasgow International Comedy Festival to tell you exactly what makes that so.
Alan Bissett's one-man (one-woman?) show is exactly what it suggests. In a series of monologues, Moira Bell of Falkirk takes us through her life – from dog wars to dates, friendship to football, we see it all. What ensues is a hilarious, but subtly smart work that takes society slowly apart and points out its many hypocrisies and pitfalls. From the dark undertones of neighbourhood enmity, which touches on domestic violence, to jokes designed to place a mirror up to the middle class theatre-going audience (who would go to the theatre on a Friday night, anyway?), Bissett certainly has something to say with this performance.
It is not Moira's first outing, and that is clear from the competent, familiar and loving way in which Bissett performs the role in his skinny jeans and knee-high boots to the way in which the audience, almost like a home crowd at a football match, cheer for Moira to succeed; and succeed she does. This is something of a given for a one-night-only performance of an acclaimed show, but without Bissett's command of the role, it would not hold up. Instead, the laughter and the cheers rise throughout the performance.
It would be wonderful to see more women with Moira's sense of self, it would be wonderful to see more female writers and performers giving voice to these characters, but Bissett does a mighty fine job, and with the simple direction of Sacha Kyle, it's a sure hit.
The Moira Monologues, Tron Theatre, run ended.