The Lying Kind

“O, what a tangled web we weave,” Sir Walter Scott wrote in his epic poem Marmion, “when first we practise to deceive!” It’s a life lesson we can only hope unfortunate police officers Gobbel and Blunt—newly on the beat, it would seem— remember, given that the play’s Farcical succession of misunderstandings and physical injuries arise from their initial reluctance to quickly inform an elderly couple on Christmas Eve of the death of their daughter.

this gloriously naughty sitcom concludes with a life-lesson seemingly learned

First seen at the Royal Court Theatre in 2002, this new Tron production under director Andy Arnold gives Anthony Neilson’s script delightful West of Scotland accents, with a top notch ensemble led by Michael Dylan and Martin McCormick as the loveable but hapless bobbies who rapidly find their situation spiralling out of control. In many respects, The Lying Kind is everything you’d expect of a farce (not least by having an obligatory Man of God caught with his trousers down), yet it’s one that’s tightly written—no loose ends, nothing extraneous—and performed with the right deadpan touch and speed.

If there’s a worry with The Lying Kind, it’s Neilson’s portrayal of Garson as a woman whose dementia returns her thoughts to an apparently brief sojourn on a cruise ship back in the early 1960s. Anne Lacey’s timing and physicality in the role are, of course, superb, but the script’s focus on her sudden amorous proclivities—especially to Blunt whom she believes is the ship’s captain—teeters uncomfortably into mockery of mental illness. What saves the day is the fact that, by the time we reach the climax, Garson suddenly appears to be the only sensible character left on stage.

Anti-paedophile vigilantes and Lazarus-like Chihuahua notwithstanding, this gloriously naughty sitcom concludes with a life-lesson seemingly learned—that it’s always simpler to tell the truth even when, as one character admits, “it might be bollocks”. Except, there’s one lingering doubt left in our minds at the end; Gronya’s young daughter Carol at one point insists she’s been sexually abused by her mother’s brother. And isn’t believed. Truth, sometimes, doesn’t appear to be enough.

Reviews by Paul F Cockburn

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The Blurb

Constables Blunt and Gobbel have one last duty to fulfil before they clock off on Christmas Eve: to tell the old couple at number 58 some terrible, terrible news.  But what if the shock is too much for the frail pair to bear?  Maybe they’d be better off not knowing. And maybe the hapless constables would be better off if they hadn’t got themselves stuck in the middle of a lynching organised by a group of anti-paedophile vigilantes.

Multiple misunderstandings, a stray Chihuahua and an apparently transvestite vicar contribute to the escalating mayhem in Anthony Neilson’s hilarious pitch black farce which is being revised for this new Tron Theatre Company production.