Written by Scott Gilmour and Claire McKenzie

Directed by Jemima Levick

Review by Dominic Corr

Tour Dates

History rarely arrives with such swagger, but SCOTS marches back around Scotland, briefly to The Dundee Rep, with a tartan‑tinted skid-mark in its breeks, and a renewed sense of theatrical purpose, delivering a renewed show which balances irreverence, pride and a surprising emotional heft – in the way only us Scots can manage.

The premise is right out the cludgie. Seriously. As Scott Gilmour & Claire McKenzie’s tale remains gloriously daft and deceptively clever. Scotland’s entire history, from Picts to present day, is narrated by the nation’s most unlikely chronicler, a toilet who has apparently witnessed every triumph, disaster and identity crisis the country has endured. Played in a principal role with wit, excellent stage-presence, and sincerity by Tyler Collins, what unfolds is a musical time‑hop through battles, declarations, revolutions and cultural awakenings, all stitched together by a multi‑skilled ensemble who treat the nation’s mythology with equal parts affection and mischief. Beneath the jokes and jibes lies a sincere question: what makes a country, and who gets to decide?

The larger staging benefits enormously from an improved and expanded design. Kenny Miller’s set bursts with colour and theatrical invention, bolstered by Colin Grenfell’s lighting, for a visual scrapbook of Scottish iconography that avoids cliché by leaning into bold abstraction. Props appear with the cheeky confidence of a show that knows exactly how ridiculous history can be. The palette is richer than previous iterations, deep blues and fiery reds washing across the stage in a way that feels both celebratory and knowingly heightened: Grenfell’s lighting sharpens these shifts, bathing the ensemble in warm glows one moment and stark, battle‑ready beams the next, giving the production a cinematic sweep without losing its scrappiness.

Language is the show’s secret weapon. Gilmour and McKenzie’s writing revels in linguistic play, weaving Scots and musical pastiche into a script that feels proudly local yet universally legible. The humour lands with precision, but it is the sudden pivots into poignancy that give the piece its staying power. Songs swell with national pride before undercutting themselves with a wink, and the ensemble’s delivery ensures that even the silliest moments carry a thread of sincerity. Additional elements in this new production create an intermission, which separates a historical divide; most are welcome, but they do push the show into feeling both too short; and too expansive.

Ensemble work is the beating heart of SCOTS, and this touring company embraces the challenge with gusto. Some of the nation’s best all bust out the stalls to shift between historical figures, caricatures and chorus roles with a fluidity that keeps the energy high and the storytelling crisp. One moment the cast is locked in a rousing musical number, the next they are embodying philosophers, warriors or activists with a comic elasticity that never feels forced (with a shout out to the continuous dedication and false-beard draped Yana Harris and Richard Conlon). The choreography by Emily Jane Boyle, injects the production with a rhythmic pulse, using stomps, marches and folk‑inflected movement to anchor the whirlwind of scenes. The ensemble’s unity is its greatest strength, each performer contributing to a collective portrait of a nation that is messy, contradictory and endlessly fascinating.

Yet the show is not without its blemishes, and that is part of its charm. The nationalism on display is knowingly self‑aware, poking fun at the country’s heroic narratives while still indulging in them. At times the sentimentality threatens to spill over, and a few transitions feel more frantic than fluid, but these imperfections mirror the very story being told. Scotland, as presented here, is a place of pride and paradox, and the production leans into that complexity rather than smoothing it away.

Under the direction of Jemima Levick, the staging finds a balance between spectacle and sincerity, all wrapped in Garry Boyle’s sound design which ensures that every lyric and punchline lands cleanly, while musical director Isaac Savage guides the score with a lively, contemporary edge. The result is a show that feels bigger, brighter and more confident than its earlier incarnations, without losing the irreverent spark that made it a fan-favourite.

SCOTS offers audiences a riotous, heartfelt and sharply crafted celebration of identity: something which is hilarious but deeply moving and *continues* to be even more progressive with its new additional elements; conversations on how we have devolved into who uses a bathroom, a (sadly) needed addition. It may not answer the question of what makes a country, but it revels in the attempt, inviting its audience to laugh, reflect and recognise themselves in the chaos. A proud, playful and resonant performance, and a reminder that history is best told with music, mischief and a generous splash of tongue-in-cheek colour (we hope that’s all it is)

---