The Golden Dragon @ The Traverse

As soon as something describes itself as “tragicomic” my interest is piqued. That elusive quality that haunts the backdrops and curls around the pages of plays such as The Seagull, or The Winter’s Tale, so often falls flat into romanticism or is overwhelmed by the dramatic action - tragicomedy is a delicate balance indeed.

ATC’s production of German playwright Roland Schimmelpfennig’s award-winning The Golden Dragon unwinds delicately, sending its humour out in lashes creating a sense of security in its playfulness. As the action unfolds the intimidating air slowly seeps through, penetrating the buoyancy of the audience with the sharpness of its parable and the reality of its theme.

The setting is the eponymous Chinese/Thai/Vietnamese restaurant and seems an almost liminal place, where all of the characters, from the illegal immigrants in the kitchen to the air stewardesses and the shopkeeper/pimp above are half in one world and half in another. The Golden Dragon leaves a disconcerting feeling in the air, rather than blasting you with dramatic tragedy. By this method it produces the level of discomfort and, perhaps, guilt, that reflects the way society feels as it closes its eyes and passes by those who suffer because of their unofficial status.

The set itself can be used to describe, if somewhat laconically, this change from mischievously comedic to darkly threatening: the play begins with a wok, a mug of beer and a plastic light-up musical fish on stage, it ends with a bare skeleton, a crumpled wig, high heels and a dress on the floor and blood all over the walls.