I think I’ll start with Paul Higgins’ belly, because that’s the kind of site we’re running here and I have absolutely no problem with that. I totally saw it when he was quickly changing just offstage and it was adorable. And to confirm (like, just to me), he is about 5’10 – his height was referenced in an episode of The Thick Of It but I’m here to say it’s accurate. BECAUSEIWASTHISCLOSETOHIM. And godDAMN but he’s a skinny man. Like David Tennant skinny. I might have to PS his head onto that one nekkid Tennant pic I found a while back because, again, that’s the kind of site we’re running here and I’m perfectly ok with that. I don’t think I’ve ever fancied a skinny man before. Not sure what to make of that.

Ok, so the play itself. Outstanding, truly. The staging is such that, were you to imagine a junior high basketball game with bleacher seating either side, the play is staged on the court. It enhances the immediacy of the content but, again, given the nature of this site, I would choose to use the word intimate. It was an intimate stage and I snagged a seat in the front row. I had to move my legs when the boys marched by too closely. I had visions of tripping one of them and dragging him away, but they are all quite fit and would’ve taken me down in seconds.

Fuck, talk about a missed opportunity…

Paul Higgins (for I can only use his full name) (and really I only ever refer to him as Jamie but I’m making a halfass go at being semi-professional here) plays two roles – the Sergeant of the squad, and the writer who’s working on a piece about the entire squad after the play’s events take place. Time jumps back and forth quite seamlessly and it was during one of these jumps that the glorious belly was revealed, likely only to me because I could NOT take my eyes off the man. It was like Rickman in Borkman only knowing I wouldn’t have to fight Effbit for a go. There was an entire platoon of 8 young fit men at one end of the court as it were, and I was just staring in the other direction watching a thin man in a t-shirt & sweater vest take notes and make interested faces.

His hair kept getting mussed during the jumps as he was the only one who didn’t have the military buzzcut.

Let me make this perfectly clear: this did not detract from my enjoyment of the play IN ANY WAY.

The music was outstanding. I don’t know a damn thing about the Scottish military but as a fan of music, I wanted more. I would’ve bought the soundtrack if it had been for sale and I hadn’t already spent my money on a pre-show scotch (because OBVIOUSLY). The boys do some chanting and at one point Paul Higgins sings. He sings. Now, I don’t know if you’ve heard the man speak. If not, rectify this IMMEDIATELY:

Ok, that’s done and out of the way. Now, imagine this voice, the pristinely Scottish male voice of maleness, SINGING. Yeah. It was just like that, but better because it’s happening RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. Jesus Christ, seriously. That’s a way to go right there. And then there was the marching. The last 10 minutes or so was coordinated marching, choreographed to include drills, a bagpipe, and support for when members of the platoon would stumble and fall while marching and the boys would be right there to pick them back up again. Coming at this play with zero military background, it was pretty moving. And it was moving pretty. And I don’t mean to discount the war & political angle of the whole piece, but I can honestly recommend it to anyone interested in war and/or pretty men moving in formation.

This is also the part where I talk about changing seats. When I first walked into the room, I just grabbed a seat. Didn’t think twice about it, just grabbed one and sat down. Turns out I was sitting right next to THE MOST ANNOYING FIDGETY GIRL EVER MADE EVER. You’re seating in bleacher seats, you don’t fucking bounce your leg. Let alone both of them. People in the row ahead of us were turning around and asking her to stop, which lasted all of 10 seconds before she saw a fucking butterfly or a starfish or something and started up again. But clever me spotted a seat across the court, a single seat between two couples. Because that’s how I roll. I switched to the new seat, which had the added benefit of being in the first row and not set aside for handicapped seating, and it turned out my new neighbor was not a leg bouncing twatbubble but a REAL LIVE SCOTSMAN. If I had stayed in my original seat, I would’ve seen Paul Higgins in all of his changing glory. There likely would have been leg. However, I would’ve missed all of it after having already been dragged out for first degree assault against a woman with her own leg.

I think I chose wisely.

And CHRIST his eyes are massive. Having seen him in person now I’m thinking they may seem larger than life because he’d possibly blow over in a stiff wind, but the fact remains. Big huge eyes. Perfect adam’s apple. Big…shoes…

And now I need to watch every single bit of Paul Higgins that I have in the house, and try not to think of the fact that the man is likely less than 5 miles from my home.