Simon Ward reviews Dead Dad Dog at the Finborough Theatre

This is the first major revival of a play that first ran in 1988, to much critical acclaim, first in the Traverse in Edinburgh followed by the Royal Court in London. It is therefore something of a period piece. The year the play is set, 1985, is displayed on Alex Marker’s simple but effective backdrop, strewn with flyers for bands and anti-Thatcher posters. The soundtrack as we enter the room is non-stop ’80s hits, and unafraid to embrace the cheesiness that implies. It is also a distinctly Scottish play . The characters’ names, Willie and Alex, or Wullie and Eck, are borrowed from a popular comic strip in a Scottish Sunday paper, and they are referenced explicitly in a gag mid-show. This adds a layer of fun for those in the know, but it still works for those who aren’t.

Alex is in his early twenties and hoping that his upcoming interview for a producer role at the BBC will be his big break. Not to mention his date with Roseanne later on when tonight could be the night… A big day, then, when you want everything to go well. And the absolute last thing that you would want is for your dead father to turn up and proceed to follow you around all day. Unfortunately for Alex, that is exactly what happens. His father, Willie, who died twelve years ago, has returned, in the full pomp of the ’70s suit in which he was buried. Furthermore, the two cannot be separated – when Alex tries to escape he gets some kind of electric shock that drags him back. Thus ensues a hilarious culture clash comedy – where the up-and-coming pretensions of Edinburgh in the mid-80s come face to face with the no-nonsense attitudes of the 70s. Director Liz Carruthers does a brilliant job of choreographing the awkwardness of two men occupying the space where one should be.

Alex tries to make the best of it as he proceeds with his day, discovering along the way that everyone else can also see his father and that he needs to pay his bus fare and buy him drinks. And when Willie has to come into the BBC interview room (on the pretence of trying to sort out the plumbing) it is clear that his presence will not increase Alex’s chances of doing well. And if the interview didn’t go well, that’s nothing compared to the impact of a middle-aged man barging in when he and Roseanne are getting together. Funny as the comedy is, it also serves to make the disconnect between father and son all the more poignant.

As the play progresses, punctuated by carefully chosen snatches of 80s classic tunes, both men struggle with the meaning of it all, and why they have been thrown together after so long and in such weird circumstances. The world of the mid-eighties seems bizarre to Willie – everything is too expensive, the music’s too loud, his son claims to be working class when Willie is proud of having clawed his way to middle class status. And Alex cannot understand what he might have done to deserve this. But when we do the mental arithmetic, we realise that Alex must have been about ten years old when his father died, an age when he was perhaps too young to fully understand, or to grieve properly. Perhaps this will all turn out to be part of that process.

Dead Dad Dog runs at the Finborough Theatre, 118 Finborough Road, London SW10 9ED until Saturday 28th October and then at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh from 1st to 4th November