Review: Into the West, Factory Theatre

I first saw this show (then called Tir na nÓg) back in 1998 at the old QEH Theatre, with my erstwhile horse-mad teenage daughter in tow. We’d recently left Amsterdam with its cutting-edge children’s theatre scene and moved to a parochial North Somerset village, still reeling as a family from the culture shock. We were both amazed and strangely comforted by Tir na nÓg – so much so that when we got home, I said to my partner: “We’ll be fine back here in England, they’re making fantastic work for children”. And then I didn’t see anything to touch it for years…

20 years on, Travelling Light has remounted the show yet again – after multiple incarnations, cast changes, national and international tours and what was felt to be a more accessible title-change to Into The West – and it comes galloping back into Bristol again on the final leg of its last-ever tour. Although, as this show has easily outrun even War Horse in terms of longevity, perhaps it’s wiser never to say never. And immortality is a good metaphor for the show, as it tells the story of an Irish traveller family left in tatters by the death of a mother whose spirit appears to find a way of revisiting them from the mythical otherworld of youth and eternal sunshine: Tir na nÓg.

Young Ally (Nina Logue) never met her mother, but she still misses her every day – Mammie died the day that Ally was born, but she still has to find that out. Brother Finn (Adam J Carpenter) is an archetypal teenaged lost-boy, hanging around the streets and feeling resentful of dad (Craig Edwards), who used to be known as the King of the Gypsies, but has taken to the bottle. Only grandad (doubled by Edwards) holds the faith, and the old stories.

Besides the loss of a mother, this show also illustrates the loss of the travelling way of life and the confinement of families who have been forced to ‘go brick’. Widespread discrimination against Gypsies and Travellers, particularly fuelled by a reactionary press, is an ongoing injustice in British society and has rightly been labelled ‘the last acceptable racism’.

The enduring strength of this show is its ability to tell this powerful story well, without a trace of sentimentality and without pulling any punches: “When will I see mammie again?,” asks Ally. “When you die, child.” Unlike so much work for children, it tackles the subject of death head-on, and names it. It’s also full of vitality, energy and dynamism, the cast populating it with policemen, neighbours, a stamping horse and a barking dog through seamless multi-roling – and of course Craig Edwards gets to delight the audience with his inner-animals.

This cast is good in different ways to the one I saw originally (a superb trio of Joe Hall, Craig Edwards and Cerianne Roberts), with Carpenter ably providing a quieter and well-nuanced counterpoint to the more exuberant Logue and Edwards. The red thread in the history of this show is director and writer Greg Banks, who with this piece set a very high bar and created a dynamic (and influential) vernacular for visual, physical and emotionally-charged work for younger audiences – indeed, the ‘Bristol style’ of family theatre is greatly in his debt.

It’s wonderful to see it again, and a fitting tribute to Jude Merrill, who is soon to step down as Travelling Light’s artistic producer after nearly three decades in the saddle. If you haven’t seen this show, don’t miss this last chance, and take all generations of your family with you: it’s a must-see for all ages.

Into the West continues at Tobacco Factory Theatres until Sunday, July 17. For more info and to book tickets, visit www.tobaccofactorytheatres.com/shows/into-the-west-2