Ordinary? Decent? Criminal?


The Home MCR audience were on the edge of their seats from the outset. No curtain pulled back. A wide stage with simple metal crowd-control barriers, lighting, and a large swathe of material alongside a step was all that could be seen. Varied lighting followed throughout. However, barging onto stage with full-blown presence was political comedian, Mark Thomas. Except it wasn’t. Mark played everyone within the play, centred around Frankie.

“Full of heart and power.” – British theatre Guide


Frankie has been busted for importing narcotics. Banged up inside the character narrates a dead gripping story, through various characters and moments shadowing the 1990s. The content involves the Berlin Wall downfall, Strangeways riots, Britain under Thatcher, and the IRA. Light materials. The properly bare Mancunian Home theatre stage was filled with energy. Thomas delivers. The pace flips, sensitivity grinds, and characters fly out of the solo lead. Ex-squaddie Bron and De Niro enforce and run the wing and similarly the audience.


“A fundamental belief in the power of rebellion.”- The QR

The exploration of freedom, power, and injustice is full of wit but is heavy in its themes. The toxicity of colonialism and is effects on modern day are rife. Just like real life there’s elements of toxic masculinity and how the current prison system is a duality of both luxury and hell. Thomas does not preach. He owns it. It feels like you’re down The Railway pub on Dean Lane, supping on Crystal lager and the chat is fresh from his belly. Ed Edwards has written a mint and pacey script weaving politics with graft.


“Gripping and subtle.” – The Guardian

The Fog Of Guilt.

Are there many novels that celebrate and champion persistence? Do all cops in novels ignore authority and tackle the weight of bureaucracy through ignorance? Early reviews pointed me to a challenge.

Inspector Imanishi Investigates by Seichō Matsumoto is a post-World War II novel originally penned in 1989. The lead protagonist, unsurprisingly, is Inspector Imanishi. He is a world apart from the rebellious bulldozing Harry Bosch found in Michael Connelly’s novel series. Instead, Imanishi is methodical, modest, and clinically human in his approach. He persists without need of a lightbulb moment or an act of genius. At every turn Inspector Imanishi displays empathy. He listens. He feels the victims’ lives. He endures whilst remaining ethical and responsible. The fog of guilt lurks. Grief and shame wallow. The good Inspector appears to put himself in others’ shoes.

What happens when guilt becomes unbearable? Drawing on a contrast of a post-war reshaping metropolitan Tokyo and that of rural provincial Japan, this book uses geography, culture, and traditional etiquette to deliver the truth. Themes of memory and recollection, urban alienation, interconnectedness, societal and historical tensions. The slow movement of justice’s machine underlines the need for structure and hierarchy but appears to comment on a lack of urgency. What secrets live between city lights and village shadows? Can you bury a crime in a country still healing?

How well can you really hide from who you were? The plot features new names, misdirection, reinvented pasts to escape guilt, shame, and consequences shows disguise as social-cultural adaptation. In an ambiguous world, the detective is a constant: deeply moral. Rarely does a slow-burn of a book stand out, yet from the opening chapter to the conclusion, I was hooked. The jigsaw was essentially a lesson in the importance of detail. Like a cold-poured Guinness, “Good things come to those who…. wait.” The novel’s ending seemed more reflective than triumphant yet left me wanting more. Was reluctant justice enough? Does empathy make the best detective?

Matsumoto’s Inspector Imanishi Investigates is a novel celebrating persistence and realism. It is the antidote to flashy books filled with spectacle and glamour. The notes of fading traditional values give hints at a nation’s people suffering an identity crisis – or at least instability causing a social flux. I found myself pondering, how much of our world’s remembered reality was misremembered? Can patience solve what brilliance cannot? Is closure enough when lives have already been lost?

Man Up?

Prison population: 96%-ish men.

Least likely to attend a doctor’s surgery: males.

Homelessness and drug abuse: mostly guys.

Donald Trump: a bloke.

Putin, Hitler, Pol Pot, MZD, Boris Johnson: fellas.

Talks less than others about inner-self: fellows.

Hero complexes: mother’s son.

Inclusive of all, at football games: bro, boykie, boyfriend.

Thinks they’re always cool: cat.

Keepers of toxic masculinity: chap.

Reduced sense of importance, when hunter and inner self show weakness: gent.

More likely to dominate, be aggressive, or demonstrate xenophobia, racism, or homophobia: guess who?

Andy’s Man Club attendees: dudes.

So, is it “man up” or man down?