Ceilidh The Musical (touring) ★★★★

Ceilidh The Musical does exactly what it says on the tin. It’s part ceilidh, part musical, weaving a story through the songs, dances and customs of a traditional Scottish gathering. It sounds like an unlikely combination on paper, yet, somehow, it works. Brilliantly! Created by the Pitlochry Festival Theatre, and enthusiastically championed by actor, Traitor-master and Proud Scot, Alan Cumming, in his first season as artistic director, this joyous travelling party is currently on tour, rocking up at town halls and theatres across the country.

Hosting proceedings is Ramsey, the evening’s “caller”. Traditionally, that means teaching the dances and then shouting the instructions loudly enough that everyone moves in concert, thus saving newcomers from embarrassment. Ramsey’s family have been callers for generations, and he wants to share their story. Before that, though, he offers a whirlwind history lesson, covering what a ceilidh actually is, where kilts came from and how the dances evolved over the centuries. The answer to that last question, it turns out, involves (spoiler alert) a remarkable chain of Chinese whispers!

Ramsey’s own journey to becoming a caller provides the show’s narrative thread. Following his family history from his great-grandmother down, the story is interwoven with live music, dance and plenty of opportunities for the audience to get involved. Especially those sitting in the front row! The result is part family saga, part social history and part community celebration.

The fusion of theatre and Ceilidh is apparent from the moment you walk through the door. Entering the auditorium, audiences are greeted by a small band playing traditional music. The space has been configured as a dance hall, with a stage at one end, a dance floor in the middle and unreserved seating around the edges. Two bars at the back complete the illusion. To the surprise of seasoned theatregoers, these remain open throughout the performance, and the audience is encouraged to get another round in, stretch their legs, or simply wander about as the mood takes them. To borrow a phrase: it’s theatre, Jock, but not as we know it!

Musically, it offers everything you could want from a traditional ceilidh band: double bass, drums, keyboard, fiddles, guitars and not one but three accordions. You know it’s going to be a good night when there are three accordions! The music is rhythmic, infectious and wonderfully melodic, and some of the musicians roam the auditorium as they play. The effect is an analogue version of surround sound, with melodies and harmonies drifting in from every corner of the room. It creates a sense of immersion long before the dancing begins.

In honour of all things Scottish, there are bagpipes too. Aware that they can divide a room, the production wisely deploys them sparingly, but to excellent effect: to welcome the haggis (yum!) and to bid farewell at the evening’s close. Even the most hardened bagpipe sceptic would surely concede that these are entirely legitimate use cases.

Most of the musicians are multi-talented performers, switching effortlessly between instruments, vocals and acting roles. Drawn from the Scottish arts scene, this is a gifted company, with those stepping into the story creating larger-than-life representations of their various characters and displaying impeccable comic timing.

Particular praise should go to Scott Gilmore (who, alongside his acting credits, is one half of musical theatre writing partnership Noisemaker, which won Walt Disney Imagineering’s New Voices award in 2015). As Ramsey, the evening’s caller and narrator, he serves as the show’s beating heart, holding everything together with seemingly boundless energy while guiding both audience and cast through the story.

George Drennan (STIFF! and Man from La Mancha, Royal Lyceum Edinburgh) is also impressive but for very different reasons. His is a quiet, unassuming and almost invisible role, and he is so convincing as the older man lurking in the audience that he could easily be (and indeed was for a time) mistaken for the real thing, until the story gradually brings him into sharper focus.

Stealing the show, however, is Laura Lovemore (The Kelton Hill Fair and A Christmas Carol for Wonderfools) as Yvonne. Brimming with charisma, vitality and razor-sharp comedic timing, she turns what could have been an insufferable caricature into an undeniable scene-stealer, commanding attention and garnering laughs whenever she takes the floor.

And there’s the dancing! Six dances are woven into the story, and it’s here that the production becomes truly immersive, with audience members invited to participate in each one. While it’s enormous fun, this is also where the show’s shortcomings become apparent.

The first is space. There simply wasn’t enough room for everyone who wanted to take part, and those who did manage to squeeze onto the dance floor often found themselves without sufficient room to execute the moves, assuming they could hear them in the first place. Which brings us to the second problem. The enthusiasm of the participants generated a considerable amount of background noise, making the caller extremely difficult to hear. Added to that, with one eye on the clock, the instructions were delivered at such a pace that keeping up became a real challenge. The result was an overcrowded group of under-briefed novice dancers attempting a coordinated Scottish dance largely by trying to copy whoever happened to be nearby… who didn’t necessarily know what they were doing either. Chaotic fun? Absolutely. Scottish dancing? Less so!

There is, of course, a need to maximise ticket sales, work within the constraints of different venues and keep the evening running to time. However, it feels like the logistical realities of audience participation may not have been fully road-tested before the tour began. This is an area which would benefit from further refinement.

It also proved somewhat exclusionary for those attending solo. Many of the dances require partners and, while the instruction to “find a partner” may sound straightforward enough, a number of audience members appeared to struggle to find one, even after summoning up the courage to ask. The result was that some were effectively excluded from this element of the evening. That is a real shame because, logistical shortcomings notwithstanding, taking part was tremendous fun.

As a contemporary theatre production, Ceilidh The Musical was always likely to have A Message and was clearly unable to resist the lure of The Gay Gordons. As the story reaches the present day, there is a short but well-judged tale of acceptance, support and adaptation, culminating in the creation of a new dance hold in which neither party leads, accommodating couples who don’t fit the traditional male-female mould. The point is made lightly and without fanfare. With much of society now broadly on the same page, there is no need to shout it from the rooftops, but nor is there any harm in a timely reminder every now and again. It also felt entirely in keeping with the evening itself, where many same-sex couples could be seen on the dance floor, although in many cases this simply reflected who had turned up together.

Running quietly alongside The Message is a more poignant story about ageing and loss. Although signposted relatively early on, the production withholds the full picture until late in the evening. When it finally arrives, it is handled with such tenderness and empathy that it feels rooted in real-life experience.

As the story draws to a close, it’s New Year’s Eve and time to bid farewell, with a promise to remember this evening spent dancing with a bunch of strangers for “Auld Lang Syne”. It’s a surprisingly moving moment, perhaps because, for the last two hours and fifteen minutes, the outside world and all its difficulties have felt a long way away.

Overall, Ceilidh The Musical, is a thoroughly feel-good night out! It’s a warm, funny ode to all things Scottish, where The Message and the parallel poignant story provide food for thought for serious theatregoers, while the party animals can enjoy going to the bar during the performance (because they can!) and trying their hand at a dance or six. Add haggis, bagpipes and a wee dram and what’s not to like?

Slàinte mhath! Cheers!