Review: Trainspotting, The Loco Klub

It’s nigh on impossible to review Trainspotting objectively, since every audience member will have a different story to tell. Some will come out spattered with (hopefully fake) diarrhoea, or having removed a (hopefully fake) used condom from their hair. Others will have abuse screamed at them, or be sat on, or have very intimate parts of somebody else’s body in exceedingly close proximity to their face.

The story – insofar as the piece has a story – is familiar to those who have read Irvine Welsh’s book or seen the film. It’s a series of snapshots from the depressing, trainwrecked lives of Renton (Gavin Ross), an Edinburgh junkie, and his friends Begbie (Chris Dennis), Tommy (Greg Esplin), Sickboy (Rory Speed), Alison (Erin Marshall) and June (Jessica Innes). In Your Face Theatre’s production is, in short, a heroin-laced tumble through a netherworld that seethes below Auld Reekie’s refined and polished exterior.

If you fancy spending an hour in the desperate company of drug users, benefit claimants and general ne’er-do-wells, this is definitely the show for you. And afterwards you can discuss whether it really is anything more than misery porn for the middle classes. Strong views on both sides of the argument are almost guaranteed.

The script does have its flaws. Since Begbie’s speech is (intentionally?) all but incomprehensible, his extended monologues tend to see the audience’s attention drift in a fug of befuddlement. The plot is as rambling and empty as the lives of its characters. The pacing is irregular, with the presentation of Tommy’s tumble from normal nice-guy to addiction hell feeling particularly rushed, even if it does include a stunningly powerful strobe-lit set piece.

But the defining characteristic of this production is that it’s immersive. Truly and utterly immersive. Ignore the warnings to not sit on the front row. It makes no difference. Nobody is safe. If you are discomfited by having naked strangers, screaming Scots or assorted body fluids in your personal space, don’t come. This is not a show for the squeamish.

But if you’re prepared to accept the possibility that you may need to go home and wash your hair afterwards, if someone’s penis bouncing around just behind your head does not freak you out, and if you’re prepared to fully engage with a performance that’s in some ways reminiscent of a Sixties Happening but with more foul language and depressing drug-related nihilism, then Trainspotting is an utterly unique experience that will undoubtedly leave you shaken, depressed, enriched and astounded at the utter commitment of the cast. It is genuinely unmissable. Unless you think you’d hate it – in which case you probably would.

Trainspotting continues at The Loco Klub until Saturday, April 23. For more info and to book tickets, visit www.tobaccofactorytheatres.com/shows/trainspotting