Yellow Longhair

Morning Star (11Jan01): Myth of the West IT's not often that one sees a Western in the theatre, rarer still to see a Western without moronic jigging and generic songs about cow-pokes. So Tim Plester's play is refreshing indeed in taking the events of the Battle of Little Big Horn and crafting work of great maturity and resonance around our preconceptions of the military blunder. Plester has wisely avoided the unstageable incident itself and concentrates on a US reconnaissance unit set out to locate and subdue hostile Indian tribes. The group is set to link up with Custer's Seventh Cavalry, but remains waiting around the campfire for the ill-fated general. The play opens with a gunshot and the lights fall on General Morningstar (Simon Kain) proudly and pompously, though with undeniable power, describing life in Indian country to his wife back home. His voice booming, his phrasing precise and self-aggrandising, Morningstar is writing the myth of the West even as he lives it. He is joined by a number of familiar Western types. Kilpatrick is the boozy Irish sergeant, played aggressively by Joe Figg in the manner of an increasingly demonic Victor McLaglen. Tommy Boy (Tim Mitchell) is the general's brother, a straight-talking, kind hearted southern boy. The Indian scout Silver Heels (Ashmeed Sohoye) and Kellogg (Sam Rumbelow), a journalist from back east, make up this band of misfits. What begins as a hearty and pleasing piece of narrative gradually turns into a piece with great power and admirable depth. With the party camp on sacred Indian hills, mysterious events begin to unfold. Tommy Boy's speech becomes portentous, talking of folk stories as if the landscape is using him as a mouthpiece for its history. Morningstar disappears, while Kilpatrick takes proceedings to a new realm of oddity. Plester's play presents us with a wonderful critique of the aggressive individualism which was, and some may argue still is, the engine that powered the homicidal frontier spirit. But, trapped in a mystical and beautiful landscape, the party begins to realise the lie behind the idea of a frontier, approaching instead, through images of annihilation and rebirth, the idea of harmony and fluidity. Yellow Longhair is a fascinating piece of theatre and, though its emerging ontological investigation may not entirely hang together in the manner that it should, the tremendous performances from the cast, not to mention the brilliant staging and atmospheric music, elevate the play to a level of high entertainment and high art. Particularly worthy of mention is Mitchell, whose portrayal of the down-to-earth yet far-from-simple Tommy drips with pathos and, even given familiarity with the massacres of the Indian population, one would be hard pushed not to find the character sympathetic. This is simply stunning theatre, shocking in its boldness and originality - rush out and see it tonight.