Written by John McKay

Directed by Liz Carruthers

Some things creep up before a job interview: anxiety, nausea, sweating, delayed buses, and maybe even some nervous tummy rumbles. What many don’t expect is your dad sitting in on the biggest interview of your life. But this isn’t helicopter parenting taken to the extreme. No, Alexander’s father, Wullie, has been dead for twelve years. And choose this moment to manifest themselves at the peak of awkwardness for young Eck (Alexander). Complete with his 1970s suit and trim.

Revived by Stories Untold Production, in association with Finborough Theatre, London, John McKay’s piece rears its head from the past with plenty still to impart – largely concealed within its fine humour, even as it resists (quite rightly) to adapt and update itself for new audiences. Returning to the Traverse, the 1988 comedy written by McKay and directed by Liz Cruthers, the bleak and gallows comedy may now seem a touch distant and garbed in much in the way of nostalgia – but this isn’t an aesthetical or cheap imitation. Dead Dad Dog remains much the same as it was when it premiered, placing authentic emotional drama and comedy at the heart of this touching two-hander.

Despite the beyond-the-grave set-up, Dead Dad Dog is a surprisingly clear production and simple in construct, confidently staged with Alex Marker’s sparse set consisting of a paper collage and single chair, lit by Rachel Sampley’s lighting enhancing the whole thing and conjures a crumpled photograph aesthetic. McKay’s insightful and connecting Scots humour remains as assertive as it wuld have thirty-five years ago for new generations who perhaps have a more dynamic, and different relationship with their fathers: the story tackles all the big life questions and quandaries of death, relations, memories, and acceptance.

All Eck really wants, it transpires, is no different than now or then or even before the show – fulfilment. A sense of freedom and happiness, but finds no avenue open to this in Scotland, and the allure of London and the opportunity it poses as a significant draw. Meanwhile, Wullie’s scuppering mentality and inadequacy keep him from refraining from chipping in sarcastic lines of scepticism to his son’s choices and ideas – reinforced (literally) by a physical shock to Eck anytime he attempts to step out of his father’s presence, Wullie’s frustrations and masculinity clear forces working against their relationship.

Thirty years on, and for all which has changed, some components of Scotland’s culture and lifestyle have remained much the same. Even now, Scotland’s persistence in the inability to radically change core elements, particularly of its poverty, and setting itself up time and again for self-sabotage steps out from the littering references and nostalgia which come over as a touch irrelevant in 2023 and maintain a momentum for the production.

Bringing life to this production that steeps itself so richly and acutely within the past is a terrific Angus Miller as Eck and a wonderfully plaintive Liam Brennan as Eck’s father. The pair perform McKay’s comedic to pitched perfection with timing, Miller possessing controlling charm and charisma to lull the audience into the set-up with relative ease, while Brennan adapts and manoeuvres themselves from bitterness and confusion to authentic comedic and emotion (something audiences may recognise from his stellar run in An Inspector Calls). Carruthers’ kinetic direction maintains energy and momentum to upkeep the pacing, which occasionally ebbs out following a strong gag or revelation, but is often concealed by Brennan and Miller’s quick performances.

While Dead Dad Dog likely remains as pertinent in a manner many would have hoped had ebbed or disappeared, there is an unavoidable truth in what McKay’s writing has to say thirty-five years later. Originally intended to be performed with a successor piece, Sunny Boy, audiences will sadly have to wait to see what else was in store following an illness in the cast. But for Stories Untold Production’s revival of the show, great effort and success are captured in the production’s urgency, thanks to tremendous performances and a solid understanding of the thin line between the past, present, and way forward.