Based on the novel by Andrew O’Hagan

Adapted and Directed by Ben Harrison

Review by Dominic Corr

Rear Warehouse at Brown’s of Leith

Consistently sparking conversation and bringing life and art to the disused, hidden, or overlooked venues of Scotland, Grid Iron’s latest endeavour is a reminder of the strength and versatility in storytelling with site-specific theatre, as the industrial warehouse space of Brown’s, Leith, an expansive former engineering warehouse, becomes a pulsating 1980s nightclub for a stage adaptation of Andrew O’Hagan’s Mayflies

Spending three decades transforming Scotland’s most unconventional nooks into compelling performance spaces, Grid Iron’s latest piece possesses a striking setting, though the venue proves a double-edged sword: while the towering brick walls absorb dynamic light and sweeping musical cues, the cavernous acoustic occasionally swallows dialogue directly into the rafters.

Director Ben Harrison splits the narrative across two distinct timelines, tracking the enduring bond between Ayrshire mates Noodles and Tully. The opening act is an exhilarating, music-fuelled sprint through a hedonistic weekend in Manchester in 1986; set to one of the best soundtracks you’ll hear in any show, Fringe or otherwise. Here, Jude Bain and Kieran Devine give completely authentic, stimulating turns as the teenage duo. Bain radiates an irresistible swagger as young Tully, while Devine balances him with quiet devotion as young Noodles. Scaling the industrial scaffolding and utilising every available inch of the concrete floor, their physical commitment brings an enviable vitality to the space.

However, the production undergoes a jarring shift in its second half. Fast-forwarding thirty years to face the reality of terminal illness and assisted dying, the story effectively splits into two distinct plays. The intoxicating poetry of youth abruptly gives way to heavy, practical discussions around mortality, creating a structural fracture that disrupts the show’s overall momentum. What began as an ecstatic tribute to adolescent euphoria suddenly metamorphoses into a cold, heartbreaking meditation on loss, forcing the audience to process an abrupt tonal lurch rather than a natural progression.

What keeps the piece grounded throughout this friction is the sheer quality of the ensemble. Matthew Pidgeon offers a deeply moving, reflective presence as the older Noodles narrating his past, while Graham Mackay-Bruce imbues the mature Tully with a heartbreaking mix of defiance and vulnerability. For the most part, Pidgeon has been our guide from the production’s emergence – and has done a sterling job, both detached from the echoes of their past, but at his best when directly seeing these spectres and rippling the authorship of the whole thing. A versatile supporting cast—notably Lucianne McEvoy as Noodles’ conflicted partner Anna – provides essential emotional depth, ensuring that every quiet confrontation carries genuine weight.

While the narrative transition feels somewhat disjointed and the venue presents clear sound challenges, the raw human heart of O’Hagan’s tale still shines in a resonant production that places the boys relationship at its gristly centre. Harrison’s staging demonstrates an undeniable ambition, proving that even when a vast industrial space resists full acoustic clarity, the emotional core of a powerful story can still echo long after the lights go down. Grid Iron delivers a poignant, memorable exploration of male friendships and loss in a reflective piece, one which leaves as much of a smile as it does a tear.

---