Review: Keli – A Brass-Band Fable Reimagined

With a few brass-band gilded memories of Keli’s stripped-down, 2-man 2022 preview at the Lyceum, I wandered into this fully fleshed, National Theatre and Lepus-produced iteration with concerns. Would it escape its prior tendency to lecturing, monologue and caricature? The answer is, thankfully, a resounding yes.

With an excellent cast to conjure her world, Keli, played by final year RCS actor Liberty Black, is free to be a teenage carer under intolerable pressure sans an excess of exposition. Black is well cast to boot, injecting the part with equal parts vulnerability and wrecking-ball energy.

A Tighter Structure and an Evocative Opening

Writer & award-winning composer Martin Green has also been busy rearranging his text into a more immediately gripping narrative, most notably in an opening which swiftly transmutes proceedings from heist into magical realist misadventure. A challenge to designer Alisa Kalyanova, who rises to it with a robustly coal-wrapped stage, wonderfully lit by Robbie Butler.

“Writer & award-winning composer Martin Green has also been busy rearranging his text into a more immediately gripping narrative…”

Awakening in the bowels of the earth, and surrounded by coal seams, the play, wisely, doesn’t waste time in trying to explain her situation. Instead, Green and Director Byrony Shanahan pile on the mystery with the appearance of an old man who speaks the Scots of a time long past. The only sure thing is that his appearance and Keli’s alarming sequestration have something to do with the tenor horn she was trying to steal from the big hoose which overlooks the fictional former mining town of Anston. Together, they must puzzle out how they got there, and whether learning each other’s stories will help them get out.

Cast Chemistry and Layered Character Work

Multi-award winner, Billy Mack certainly seems made for the part of a miner plucked from the long ago, in what is an immensely charming turn. Using archaic language and naming Keli ‘sister comrade’ on the regular could easily be the stuff of cringe hell, but he makes it feel entirely appropriate.

Keli’s tale, told in retrospect, is deftly carried out, with Karen Fishwick, Phil McKee, and Olivia Hemmati each turning in memorable performances as Keli’s traumatised mum, gruff but passionate band coach, and unlikely deadpan best friend, respectively. That is when they aren’t wearing other characters’ hats, or indeed masks, as Keli’s story winds towards her fall into darkness. It’s tough to portray the debilitating terror of severe agoraphobia, but Fishwick does just that – and without chewing scenery or an excess of melodrama. McKee could probably create a gruff but kind-hearted curmudgeon in his sleep, but neither does he telephone his part in. Which brings us to Hemmati, not long graduated herself, and gifted with the sort of stage presence which may signal a very bright future.

A Story Carried by Its Core

However, no matter how strong the supporting cast, and how much the story benefits from being shown and not told, it still falls upon Keli, and, to a lesser extent William, to hold it up. This they certainly do, even if William’s part feels just a little underwritten. His arc is intact, as are his motivations, but the weight of his ultimate revelations is somewhat undersold and rushed. Nevertheless, Mack makes him a memorable figure, naturally funny, but not a figure of fun, and full of heart.

And still, the play is called Keli, not Keli and Willy, and on the whole, her tale is an interesting one. Young carers are often portrayed as inspirational figures in the media, where the truth is, as truth always is, more complicated. Black doesn’t try to make Keli a sympathetic character; her rudeness might be the spikes of an emotional hedgehog, but she’s still more than capable of being a ratbag to any and everyone. That we do see her vulnerability and feel for her is a product of a tale well told. The pressure on her is indeed always rising – a benefit to brass players, but not human beings.

The Brass Thread That Binds

On that brass note, Keli was born from Green’s immersion in all things colliery band, and whilst you could replace the band with some other pursuit – and thus avoid the comparisons with Brassed Off – it would be a different tale about some other place. Here, the local brass band is the remnant that connects a post-coal community to the miners who built it. The music of a brass band in full swing is glorious, but it also echoes back through time, and it’s that thread that Green follows to connect his heroes.

“Black doesn’t try to make Keli a sympathetic character; her rudeness might be the spikes of an emotional hedgehog, but she’s still more than capable of being a ratbag to any and everyone.”

Is the device by which Keli’s supposed prodigy-esque expertise with the tenor horn is portrayed by her standing near a true virtuoso, Andrew McMillan, completely successful? No. On the other hand, the stage is an unforgiving place when it comes to pretending to play instruments. In this, the audio drama certainly has a natural edge.

Atmosphere, Music, and a Powerful Payoff

However, if there’s a touch of awkwardness in the presentation of Keli’s talents, it’s handled with enough style and confidence not to get in the way. The show certainly sounds great, thanks to George Dennis and Neal Clark, and when the show springs its finale surprise, prepare to hold onto your socks. There’s more to admire in the alchemy between Martin Green’s score and onstage musical director Louis Abbott, two impressive talents who conspire to soundtrack proceedings with a superbly atmospheric blend of melody and lyrics. This is a play about music, not a musical, but it sings all the same – not least through the involvement of both Whitburn and Kingdom Bands.

Final Verdict: Keli Finds Its Voice

On the whole, Martin Green has certainly delivered a better play than I expected on first encounter, and so bravo. I asked back then if Keli had much to say that Brassed Off hadn’t years and years earlier – I just had to wait 3 years to get the answer. This compelling, weird, and heartfelt adventure was worth the wait.

All images: Mihaela Bodlovic