IT'S NOT hard not to hate actor/writer David Ireland.
Why? Well, in our last interview he described himself as a "rotten actor". But having watched him subsequently however, in the likes of BBC sitcom Mountain Goats and Citzens' theatre play Kill Johnny Glendinning, that contention has been killed stone dead.
How can you like someone so sickeningly modest?
Then there's his playwriting skills. Belfast-born, Glasgow-based Ireland is arguably Scotland's top theatre comedy writer. And his latest work Can't Forget About You, which previewed in Belfast last year lives up to its billing as "riotous". But here's the annoying thing; Ireland reveals he wrote the play, which tells of heartbroken, dumped 25 year-old Belfast man Stevie who falls for forty-nine year-old Glaswegian woman, Martha, in a week. A week? In the name of Neil Simon. (Our shared playwright hero). Simon used to take at least a year to create plays that caused shoulders to heave.
"I was so carried away with the writing process," explains the writer, grinning. "I was in Belfast at the time and staying at my mother's - which is very apt because a lot of it is about mothers and sons - but I had no distractions and I couldn't stop writing. I was writing until three am and then getting up at seven. In fact, I had to stop writing at one point because my fingers and my brain were sore so I went to the movies for respite. Tinker Taylor Soldier Spy was on but five minutes in I had the idea for the next scene in my play." He adds, laughing; "I still have no idea what happened in that film."
The writers' rapidity is reflected in the play's incredible energy, which has it's backdrop in the Troubles and sectarianism. Ireland clearly loved creating this world but did the play flow because it's autobiographical?
"It's partly autobiographical," he reveals, grinning. "I didn't have an affair with an older Scottish woman but as a younger man I definitely fancied mature women. I loved The Graduate and I always wanted that Mrs Robinson experience so the idea of writing that sort of story, set in Belfast appealed to me. And it was a chance to bring in this clash of cultures."
Ireland's writing success is snowballing. Right now he has plays in development with the National Theatre of Scotland and the Royal Court, he's writing Glasgow's Tron Theatre panto this year and has been awarded the prestigious Brian Friel-Tyrone Guthrie Fellowship to study in Minneapolis.
Meantime, he's in growing demand as an actor, in the likes of BBC drama Shetland. Did he always want to act
"I guess I did, since the age of four thanks to a holiday at Butlins in Ayr," he recalls. "I was chosen by the Redcoat to get up on stage and try and lift the winner of the Fat Lady contest. (Feminism was yet to be invented). This Redcoat asked me how much the lady weighs and when I didn't speak he kept whispering 'She weighs a ton . . .' I got the line out and the laughs were epic." And seductive.
But Ireland certainly wasn't hothoused in an artistic community. His Belfast housing estate home contained only one book - the Bible. "Well, I think maybe one Jackie Collins made it into the house, " he recalls, with a wry grin.
Nevertheless, Ireland's determination took him to Glasgow's RSAMD. On leaving drama college however, jobs for Ulster-accented actors in Scotland were as rare as Catholics in Ian Paisley's address book. The desperate (but highly imaginative) actor turned to writing, and to get "authentic Belfast voices" into his head, Ireland returned to Ireland.
"I was signing on at the time, but everyone around me it seemed was working on a Liam Neeson-Jimmy Nesbitt TV movie which was filming in town. I was really upset and felt like a complete failure. I had this actual thought that I would find an actor I knew in the movie, threaten him with a knife and somehow take his part. For about ten seconds I thought it was a brilliant idea! I didn't get the knife out, but I did use this idea in the play I was writing, which was later produced at Glasgow's Oran Mor."
Ireland was able to take his deranged notion and transfer it onto the page. Even his romantic comedies feature prostitution, profanities and babies that look like Gerry Adams (his new Royal Court play.) It seems when the cold clouds of darkness hit the warm light of love it produces a comedy shower - and big, gurgling laughs rain down.
"I hope so," he says.
It is the case in Can't Forget About You. The darkness emerges from the memory of the death of the young man's father, at the hands of an IRA bomber. His mother and sister can't come to terms with the loss.
The writer however doesn't apologise at all for incorporating the Troubles into his play. "Northern Ireland, in order to move on, has to acknowledge the past," he maintains. "To not deal with it would to be in denial. And while many people have lived through the Troubles and escaped death and serious injury, even if you do it still affects you in so many ways. You're growing up in that culture, a society at war, and it still has a huge effect on you."
He reflects: "Why should you not write about it? There are some who say they're sick of Northern Irish accounts of the Troubles in theatre or film but look at how many American accounts there are of the Vietnam war."
Ireland hadn't intended coming back to Scotland, but he landed acting work at Oran Mor theatre in 2010 in a Sandy Grierson play David Ireland Will Lecture Dance and Box. The play involved audience participation and for Ireland's character to choose a lady from the audience to play the part of his wife. Ireland spotted a woman he liked the look of in the audience and called her up on stage. A year later he and that woman, Jen, were married and they now have a daughter, Ada. It's a Neil Simon story in itself. And another success story. Can the man do any wrong? And did he really write Can't Forget in a week?
"Well, there were lots of re-writes," he says in compensatory voice, smiling, but then realises he's failing to convince of his inadequacies and tries again. "And I'm not very good at play titles."
Maybe that's true. Can't Forget About You is hardly a sizzler. And previous titles (of brilliant plays) include Most Favoured and the very dull End of Hope; The End of Desire.
"And I'm not very good at play endings," he claims.
And suddenly I don't hate the man any more. I'm not good at endings either. Like this one.
Can't Forget About You is at Tron Theatre, Glasgow, July 1 - 25.
[cast note: Declan Rodgers as Stevie, Karen Dunbar as Martha, Carol Moore as Mum, Abigail McGibbon as Stevie's Sister and Naomi Rocke as the Girlfriend]
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