Martin Docherty is an engaging performer: he rattles through the text like a thunderous thoroughbred, vaulting the towering fences of bad luck and goodbyes with daylight to spare as his titular actor completes the circuit of casting couches manned by dismissive directors who greet his gritty auditions with Mount Rushmore facades.

And his hour-long monologue co-written by Martin Travers hooks the audience from the off: to earn a crust (and it is a crust) as an actor requires Herculean powers of perseverance and a belief bordering on masochism; to earn a crust as a working class actor requires the successful navigation of a never-ending series of obstacles of Becher’s Brook proportion.

But there’s one flaw in this otherwise humorous and heartfelt production by the aptly named Broke Lad Productions (at least in the performance witnessed in the soulless studio of Falkirk Town Hall which was garlanded with a Mr & Mrs balloon floating in the rafters): for the most part, Docherty’s piercing blue eyes were fixed on the horizon above the heads of the audience rather than on the open doors of their pupils. The result of which was a needless alienation which, thankfully, can be easily remedied.

Minor grumble aside, a sparkling performance by Docherty delivered at whip cracking speed which reminds Mrs Worthington that if she is going to risk putting her daughter on the stage then she should furnish her with a fistful of dollars and a Batfink shield of steel. Next stop, Glen Hall in Neilston, followed by a two-day stint at Eastwood Park Theatre before the run gallops to a close at  Motherwell Theatre, The Brunton and Assembly Roxy in Edinburgh.

Peter Callaghan
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