Giants in the Forest: The Absurdist Drama

It seems that trains have become the new enthusiasm for theatre-makers: before Robert Dawson Scott's Great Train Race arrives at the Oran Mor, a mysterious performance took place somewhere between Drum Castle and Aberdeen. Using the decaying remains of a platform on the old Deeside line, five actors improvised a brief commentary on the changing landscape of the railway cutting.

Visual theatre, which uses the combined aesthetics of dance and puppetry to focus on the image as the primary vehicle for communication, has achieved an enhanced status thanks to the work of manipulate or Scottish company Tortoise in a Nutshell. Yet the use of masks in this production, Ghosts of Factories and Commuters, owes as much to the Giant Heads situated around the country as to more theatrical styles. Oversized and largely silent, three masked beings sit on the edge of the platform and observe not the improvised skits of the remaining duo (dressed in Lycra cycling gear) but the impromptu audience who have gathered.

The skits themselves are largely irrelevant: one concerns a father telling his son how one day he'll understand the beauty of a steam train, while the son shouts that he like the Advanced Passenger Train better (the irony being that the APT, heralded as the future, was soon discarded by British rail); another addresses the regret of a mother when (presumably the same) son decides that he wants to abandon his career teaching Latin for 'something to do with a paradigm shift.'

But the observation of the Heads is the key. Never distracted by the fuss behind them, they respond only to movements in the audience. Gradually, they become slower, turning slightly towards the left or right. By setting themselves at the centre of the platform, in front of the duo, they become both frame and interruption to the action. Even when the improvisations stop, they remain, breaking the traditional finale and stretching the performance beyond its boundaries.

There's an echo of the theatre of cruelty here - the refusal to signal the end of the show, trapping the audience in place. But more importantly, they realign the nature of the audience's attention. Not longer is the bustle, the script or the action the point. Instead, the image is the thing, the lack of movement, the calm.

There are moments when they appear to be on the point of talking - yet they stay silent. Meaning is not presented, but seems to dangle behind their eyes. Like a painting, or an installation, Ghosts demands attention without rewarding it.