Written by Fraser Boyle

Music & Lyrics by Ali Cleland

Directed by Fraser Boyle and Eric Potts

One of the most remarkable things about live theatre, particularly Scottish, is the ability to blindside audiences – as any who wrote off Fraser Boyle’s Hen Night Horror due to the name or vibe needs their nipples ‘tweaked.’

Boyle’s defiantly Scottish take on the slasher genre (think Scream with Tequila and Cystitis) is more than the screams and laughter make it out to be. Undeniably an audience hit, Hen Night Horror is a celebration of Scottish talent, creativity and humour all bundled into an exhilarating night-out, just so long as audiences get in on the action. A fast-paced and clever new musical which knows what it wants and holds you by the knackers until it gets it. And trust us; audiences don’t need safe words here.

The wedding of Amanda is getting ever closer, and before she can be whisked away in a dream-caravan honeymoon, one big nasty and raucous beast needs to be slayed first: The Hen Night. A Highland getaway organised by bridesmaid Donna, living luxuriously thanks to her new job, grinds the gears of the other bridesmaid, Lydia – who smells something rotten about the entire affair. And it’s got a distinctly latex smell to it all. With a watcher in the woods, lighting, and a few jump-scares factored into the mix, Hen Night Horror structures itself as an early-Halloween fright piece that falls far more into the comedic where even those gags and groan-worthy narrative choices side-step the obvious for a purer enjoyment away from snobbery.

Hen Night Horror will not cater to everyone (least not the audience members clutching their rosaries), it was never meant to. It’s crude and over-the-top, silly, and smart in equal measure – the only thing it could do with is a few more frights. It’s open to everyone who can handle a bit of naughty. But with a title like this, what would audiences expect? It is gallous, it is raunchy, and at times ridiculous in the set-up – but have you ever been on a Scottish hen do? This is pretty tame in elements. But what catapults the show’s success, outside of Ali Cleland’s lyrics and Boyle’s writing, are the performances – especially our leading trio.

Kim Shepherd finds a centre point in the vocals with clarity and excellent control, lifting the score and musicality of the show well above expectations, indeed, the entire cast brings gusto and passion. As Amanda, Shepherd’s slow descent into aggressive bridezilla is warranted and earned, their tequila-infused outbursts and determination to make it down that aisle become ludicrous, but never outside the realms of possibility. And Louise McCarthy is the gift which keeps on giving to Scottish theatre, and a reliable charm of sorts with Boyle’s work, building on each line until there is an eruption of laughter from the audience (and only a little bit of wee). And rounding out the trio, Frances Thorburn has a suitably more subtle (a rare thing in this show) performance which grows just as depraved and bombastic as the rest, striking out with character revelations and bringing in engaging elements of our attitudes towards sex work and snooping around.

Not to be cast aside, Matthew McKenna’s late addition to the performance isn’t to go unnoted for their stellar vocals and devastatingly funny take on a copper from the Highlands – equally met by the authentically genuine bewilderment from McCarthy’s Lydia for tear-inducing hilarity. The professionalism of Alan Orr is once more tested in their ‘unique’ role as the uninvited surprise guest, Mr Jeffries, in a performance which adds to both the humour, crawling all over the knife-sharp and full-mooned set.

It’s a tight production, remarkable given how easily it could fall into the realms of Panto and find excuses for dodgy scene transitions or character introductions. Instead, Boyle and Eric Potts’ direction offers plenty of space for the performers to give physicality (some bloody great use of physical humour) to the characters for expressions and Chris Stuart Wilson’s choreography that certainly re-captures the showbiz magic Boyle and crew known for in lifting Hen Night Horrorinto a show which has plenty of annual staying power (a new breed of Scottish Halloween Show…?)  

For a long time now, Scotland has been on the hunt for a musical which dips its toes in a different pool than that of Sunshine on Leith, and it seems that for too long, we’ve been fishing in the wrong pool. When what we really needed was a tequila-stained puddled, with a few drops of blood, and some other…fluids. And in that hunt, a new Scottish comedic horror rises – one which has no intentions of revolutionising the genre but injects it with vim, providing a killer sense of humour, and some side-splittingly lethal gags.

---