“SCOTS” at Pavilion Theatre, Glasgow
Mark Brown on Clydeside
★★★★☆
21 March 2026
SCOTS – a comic musical about the origins and history of Scotland, told from the perspective of the nation’s first public toilet (or “cludgie”, to give it its name in the Scots language) – has its roots in Glasgow’s hallowed lunchtime theatre A Play, a Pie and a Pint (PPP). The producer of the largest number of new theatre productions in Scotland by a considerable distance, PPP has taken upon itself numerous functions, including its role as a launch pad for touring productions that are often expanded from their original one-hour, lunch break remit.
Photo credit: Tommy Ga-Ken Wan.
This tour of SCOTS – which was written by Scott Gilmour and Claire McKenzie – is brought to us by Raw Material (the prolific Scottish theatre production company established eight years ago by the dynamic duo of Margaret-Anne O’Donnell and Gillian Garrity), in association with the Beacon Arts Centre, Greenock.
Now boasting a cast of nine (up from the unusually large PPP ensemble of eight), director Jemima Levick’s new staging runs to around an-hour-and-three-quarters (including interval). The design has had an upgrade, too, with designer Kenny Miller kilting-up the cast like they’re in Brigadoon and topping his set (which has the kind of stairs one might expect to see Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing on) with a huge, illuminated sign carrying the show’s title.
The ensemble is led – as was the original staging – by the fine Scots-American actor Tyler Collins (who – despite the best efforts of UK immigration officials to deny him residency nine years ago – has made Scottish theatre his home). Thank goodness that the campaign to keep Collins in Scotland came off.
He does a fabulous job as the Scottish-accented public convenience that is the show’s omniscient narrator. He was – the toilet informs us – first dug around 1,200 years ago, to be used by Kenneth McAlpin, first king of many of the lands that would later be known as Scotland. Having a WC as storyteller certainly prevents the show from taking itself too seriously as we gallop (with Monty Python-style clip-clopping halves of a coconut) through Scottish history on a horse called Steven.
Photo credit: Tommy Ga-Ken Wan.
The beauty of the piece is that it has the courage to be simultaneously very funny, fabulously (and diversely) musical and educational. From a history rap to a genuinely moving song about the historical criminalization (and historic stages of decriminalization) of homosexuality in Scotland, the show grasps the nettle … no, the thistle of Caledonian history with both hands.
The musical alights on the Union of the Crowns in 1603 (which put James VI of Scotland on the English throne as James I), and it does not flinch from the superstitious and misogynistic monarch’s penchant for murdering women he suspected of witchcraft. It plunges, too, into the fabled technological and scientific inventiveness of both famous Scotsmen and overlooked Scotswomen.
The heartfelt feminist anthem ‘I Don’t Need Your Acceptance’ – which is led, in brilliant voice, by the superb Katie Barnett in the role of path-breaking scientist Mary Somerville – is a highlight of the show.
Even in its expanded incarnation, the script has to make invidious choices regarding the episodes in Scottish history it dabbles in. That said, the pivotal role of the Calvinist Reformation of the sixteenth century and the significance to Scotland of immigration (particularly in the nineteenth, twentieth and twenty-first centuries) are major omissions.
These are minor quibbles, however, with a highly original, thought-provoking and universally well-performed musical that is flushed with success.
Touring until April 4: https://www.rawmaterialarts.com/
