Do you love Alex? Let me tell you, if you are going to put A Clockwork Orange on, the audience simply has to love Alex. If they don't then something will be missing for the whole performance, something that means Anthony Burgess's powerful tale of every postwar government's dilemma - letting people (or nations) choose to be evil, or forcing evil out of them - might be lost.Believe me, you will love Alex.Burgess' novel, later made into a film by Stanley Kubrick, presents the story of young Alex, a 'droog' in a future world where violence and terror rage forth and people are scared to go out at night. He and his three accomplices march their way through their city raping and murdering until Alex's leadership is questioned by his friends, and they plan their own coup d'état.Action to the Word's all-male production is marvellous. It's remarkably visual, aurally stimulating and profoundly moving. There is a lot of respect for Burgess's novel as well as Kubrick's long-banned film version, and the original ending has been retained. Metrically, all performances are inspired by Shakespeare, with the Russian-English patois Nadsat rolling off their tongues in a mastery of rhythm you'd be hard-pressed to find elsewhere at the Fringe. Stylised dance sequences make the violence oddly beautiful, coming together to music by Beethoven, updated to electric guitar. When the violence goes from stylised to bottle-smashing rape, however, it is horrifying - but I challenge you to try and take your eyes off the stage.Martin McCreadie's Alex is genuinely loveable, although this can take a while to develop. His monologues are impeccable and he never breaks form in a role where offstage is a rarely granted breather. He leads Action to the Word through one of the most energetic productions I've ever seen, as the Ode to Joy becomes sinister and drug-filled milk better than wine. The entire company is well-directed and well-choreographed, and they work together magnificently; McCreadie in particular is seemingly able to create any emotion, and manipulate empathy out of his audience. This is an all-male take on the play, and if you think the homoerotic element - because startlingly erotic it certainly is - will get tired, then don't. It might have its moments of gratuity but its subversion later in the play is utterly terrifying, questioning the power and ethics behind psychiatric treatment and its effect on mind and body. It is magnificent - you might question why Burgess didn’t do this himself.Go. Go and see this triumphant horrorshow. And see it again, and again, and again.
