The Steamie
★★★★★ Hilarious & heartfelt
Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose (Venue 24): Wed 31 Jul – Sun 25 Aug 2024
Review by Rebecca Mahar
Stage Door Entertainment brings Tony Roper’s classic play The Steamie to the Fringe with heart, humour, and honesty.
On Hogmanay in 1950 four women meet at their local steamie (or wash-house) in Glasgow to do the year’s last laundry, chat, sing songs, and reflect on their lives as working-class women. From the youngest, Doreen, at twenty, to the eldest, Mrs. Culfeathers, who laments not having met her great-grand weans, the women are bound by their common task and the labours they perform for their husbands and families.
In the women-only space of the wash-house, the four can speak their minds, air their grievances, and praise the solidarity of pals.
Though set in 1950, Roper’s script is full of enduring issues and themes, with such lines as “nae matter whit ye go tae him [the doctor] with, he says it’s your nerves!” receiving shouts of appreciative laughter.
Jorgey Scott-Learmonth charms as Doreen in a musical number about dreams coming true with her name in the queue for a council house is Drumchapel, while Cora Todd as Magrit and Hannah Rudge as Dolly ricochet off one another with brash, high-energy patter that transitions effortlessly into their own musical turns.
oblivious charm
The only intrusion to the woman-dominated stage comes in the form of Andy, a worker at the steamie, who wanders in and out, alternately making himself useful and an annoyance, played with oblivious charm by Alexander Artis.
At the heart of The Steamie is Mrs. Culfeathers, played to soft-spoken perfection by Nicki Mitchell. Utterly straight faced in her delivery of some of the show’s funniest lines, her telling of the mystery of Galloway’s mince is wonderfully agonising in its slowness against the frenetic energy of the others. Mitchell’s heart shines through her eyes with every word of Mrs. Culfeathers’ guileless dialogue, her memories of the past, and her loneliness for far-flung family.
Directed by John MacIsaac, The Steamie is a snappily-paced, busy production that nevertheless has space to breathe in its quieter and more poignant moments. Costumes and props from Lesley O’Brien fill out the world of the steamie, a seemingly endless supply of laundry folded and re-folded by the company amid wash-house stalls designed by Aidan O’Brien and Tommie Travers.
The Steamie is a staple of Scottish drama for good reason— and Stage Door’s rendition does it full justice. For good times, laughter, and maybe a tear or two, gang doon the steamie this Fringe!
Running time: One hour and thirty minutes (no interval)
Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose (Big Yin), 3 Chambers Street EH1 1HT (Venue 24)
Wed 31 July – Sun 25 August 2024
Daily (not 12, 19): 12:00pm
Details and tickets: Book here
Website: www.stagedoorentertainment.co.uk
Facebook: @ StageDoorEntsUK
Instagram: @StageDoorEntsUK
X: @ StageDoorEntsUK
ENDS
Had me and my mum laughing and crying. Fantastic performance.
Loved this- so funny!!
Bittersweet at times but Scottish humour is hard to beat…lots of one liners that made you laugh out loud!
All cast members were hilarious and I especially enjoyed Dolly in the tub.
Have booked again for next week!
Thought it was great from start to finish! Took me through all the emotions,
brilliant! Well done to all involved.
Just back from seeing the show. The cast were brilliant. Highly recommended only 3 shows left. Get your tickets now.
Absolutely fantastic, if you see nothing else, go see this show. The cast are first class and Mrs Culfeathers is a wee darlin’ … I laughed and cried and sympathized with these ladies who had nothing and everything.
Book it if you can … in a great city centre venue too.
I haven’t laughed so much in ages. A truly funny, at times heart rending and thought provoking play, delivered by an excellent cast. Impeccable comic timing and musical interludes pull the audience into a space and time that resonates down the years.
The only flaw is that the Fringe run is over. This production of The Steamie should run and run.