Ceilidh review: the Scottish musical that gets Shoreditch dancing

The audience at Shoreditch Town Hall took to the dance floor during Ceilidh: A New Musical, joining the spinning, dizzy mass of bodies that Scott Gilmour and Claire McKenzie's interactive show demands. The show opened with one instruction: "In 2,000 years, no one has ever looked good doing it."

Staged in the round, with ample space for stripping the willow, Ceilidh is directed by Sam Pinkleton, whose Tony-winning Oh, Mary! proved his command of anarchic energy. The production began its UK tour at the Pitlochry Festival Theatre after a short run in the US, and it feels like an authentic community event rather than a conventional night at the theatre.

Before curtain-up, actor-musicians mill sociably among the punters on the dancefloor. By the time the bodhrán rhythms kick off in earnest, every toe is tapping in anticipation.

Who drives the story?

The caller Ramsay, played by Gilmour himself, explains that everyone is invited to join the dances punctuating the story of his father Leo, played by David Rankine, and Leo's blossoming romance with English rose Uena, played by Kirsty Findlay. Gilmour and McKenzie's book and lyrics carry a full load of Scottish wit, delivered with a bracing bluntness. Star Penders' hilarious Granny Maclavaney is a woman who can "eat an entire shepherd's pie in 90 seconds."

There is a glorious meet-cute in a Glasgow chippie, and Laura Lovemore delivers a grinding, pouting riot of a performance as Uena's best friend, whose wedding the audience attends as de facto guests.

What traditions does the show pack in?

The vignettes come overlaid with a full bingo card of Scottish traditions:

• piping in the haggis
• the bells of Hogmanay
• the comically hazy passing down of dance moves through the generations, traced in one barnstorming number

The fragility of memory is a key theme, sitting alongside a message of inclusivity that the review found heartwarmingly, if unsubtly, conveyed.

What does this change for audiences?

The critic, self-described as an inveterate joiner-inner, loved the experience. The open question is whether spectators who choose simply to observe will feel well served by a narrative that never quite allows the characters enough time or depth — the trade-off the show makes for its participatory spectacle.

As the UK tour continues from Pitlochry, Ceilidh stands as a test of whether interactive theatre can carry a love story on dancing feet alone.