Joe Carnall Jnr’s dementia musical takes a swing right for your feels!
Rushing into the Crucible on a busy Saturday afternoon, I was immediately struck by the generations arriving together: sons with mothers, daughters with fathers, grandchildren accompanying grandparents. This afternoon already felt like something to share with loved ones, and that was before we’d even started.
We were here, of course, for How Could I Forget?, Joe Carnall Jnr’s debut foray into playwriting and composing, which first took to the stage in the university’s drama studios last year. Following positive reviews, this run had sold out pretty sharpish, and there was a low hum of anticipation around the place ahead of this dementia-friendly matinee.
And that’s because it captures something quintessential in our collective experience. There is a shared recognition around the subject of dementia. Sadly, most people have some experience of a loved one, or someone they know, living with the degenerative condition, and the musical expertly taps into the emotions surrounding those experiences.
Judging by the blubbering wreck this audience member was in, and the state everyone around me was reduced to by the closing scenes, it does a bloody good job of it.
Like all good drama, though, it isn’t just relentlessly sad. It earns its tears by being warm and full of wit throughout. There’s a familiar Northern charm (as well as a dig at Carnall’s brother and fellow Milburn bandmate) that had me laughing aloud.
The story centres on Jack McBride (Gerard Fletcher), his wife Jean (Cathy Breeze) and their grandson Billy (Jamie Wray), as Jack’s dementia begins to change the familiar rhythms of family life. Billy is a music-loving university student trying to find his place in the world, with a talent for playing but considerably less appetite for putting himself in front of an audience. His grandad, meanwhile, has enough confidence for both of them.
As the story moves between past and present, it becomes about more than Jack’s illness. It’s also about working-class aspiration, the opportunities available to different generations and the things we pass on without necessarily realising it.
The scenes between Billy and his grandparents feel like you’ve stepped into your own grandparents’ living room. The relationships between the central characters feel so real as to almost intrude on your own life. It’s really impressive character building.
The recurring crossword is a particularly effective touch. It becomes a measure of Jack’s worsening condition, but also reveals Billy’s intelligence and Jean’s abilities. There’s a sense that she could have achieved plenty herself, had the opportunities available to her been different.
Then there’s the piano, around which both the household and much of the play revolve. Music is a shared language between Jack and Billy, and the songs often allow the characters to express feelings they might struggle to say aloud – a useful outlet for a family of proud Northerners.
The songs themselves are solidly crafted, but there’s a weird sort of uncanny valley in some of them, particularly those Billy plays on electric guitar, as you can sort of hear Joe and musical director Ed Cosens in their other guises as rock stars. That might be a quirk of knowing the author, though.
Elsewhere, the music draws on Carnall’s memories of his own grandad singing Glasgow street songs such as ‘Murder in the Chip Shop’. Those moments help make the family’s musical life feel lived-in, rather than something added for the stage.
Jean’s solo was my favourite, though my main takeaway is that there isn’t really a standout song that stays lodged in your head afterwards. It’s very much a collection of songs and the characters and their relationships that you take home.
The performances are excellent throughout. Wray captures Billy’s awkwardness and affection, while Breeze gives Jean the warmth and intelligence that make her such an important presence. Richard Galloway and Holly Durkin also move confidently through a range of supporting roles.
But it’s Fletcher’s Jack who steals the show. With his thick Glaswegian accent, a twinkle in his eye and the swagger of a man who could light up any room with a song, he makes it easy to see why Billy idolises him.
That makes the changes in Jack all the harder to watch. Anyone familiar with dementia may recognise how confusion can turn into frustration, anger or aggression. Fletcher handles those shifts convincingly, making the darker moments painful without losing sight of the person at the centre of them.
For all its harrowing moments, How Could I Forget? is full of warmth, humility and humour. I can’t remember having a more emotional response to anything I’ve seen at the theatre. The tissues being handed out afterwards were certainly needed.
A love letter to Carnall’s grandparents, then, that leaves you thinking about your own.
And if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to have another cry about the fact that my nan never got to meet my daughter – her namesake – or my partner.
