Review: I Can Die Too- Pitlochry Festival Theatre

Written by Frances Ruffelle, Sally George and Alan Cumming

Directed by Bill Buckhurst

Review by Maddy Atttridge

A play within a play is certainly not a new idea, but Pitlochry Theatre’s I Can Die Too takes the idea in a slightly different direction. This part-musical, part-play and part-messy comedy-drama; it follows Lily — a perhaps slightly overdone stereotype of an older, dysfunctional actress — as she rehearses her performance in Jean Cocteau’s La Voix Humaine. Complete with smeared make-up and a reliance on drink, her character slowly bleeds into Lily’s own life over the course of the play.

The start feels a little disjointed, but once the play settles into its flow, it begins to shine more brightly. Francis Ruffelle is a magnetic lead who, despite her character’s few clichés, manages to charm you into caring for Lily. She is well supported by her cast members; they bounce off one another, trading cutting jokes and doing their best to mask their exasperation, though it would have been interesting to see a little more from the relationship between Lily and her long-suffering director. There is one glimpse into their perhaps not-always- professional relationship, but it’s all too brief for the audience to fully get their teeth into.

Simon Kenny‘s staging makes great use of the space. A revolving platform and scaffolding to house the band/cast members during the musical numbers allows for an intimate performance without it feeling like the actors are hemmed in. Certainly, the performances are kept big and punchy throughout.

The songs featured are catchy, synth-pop numbers, wonderfully performed, though perhaps not totally necessary at times. The emotional depth was best found in the play’s quieter moments, often between Lily and the iteration of her younger self. If these moments had been given more focus, been pulled to the forefront, and been allowed more limelight like the songs were, it perhaps would have had a more lasting emotional impact once it was over.

There are parts where it really works, though, as the play progresses, we see Lily begin to push back against the director’s ideas in favour of her own vision. The rejection of the tragic, heartbroken female trope is welcome. In a wonderfully direct line, Lily exclaims that ‘women written by men either kill themselves or are driven mad,’ and it is refreshing not to witness it happen here; instead, we see the play end with something much more hopeful. This is where the use of song works perfectly, encompassing the joy and messiness of life in a rousing climax.

It may not flow seamlessly, nor fully mine the depth of the content it seeks to convey, but it is fun, impressively staged and energetically performed.