Frankie is a con who is in prison due to dealing. The clever way that he had imported his drugs, disguised as chocolate, resulted in his flat being raided, him being charged and now incarcerated. Starting just after the riots at Strangeways, Mark Thomas taking on the role of Frankie, our Ordinary Decent Criminal, guides us through the story of how Frankie survived the nick, but did not get to fully enjoy his freedom.
Ed Edwards’ script is authentically driven, filled with monickers and faces to inhabit the performance with menace and grimaces. This is a play about the oppression of people within the system, one which does not recognise them as human beings, turning them from human into beings who survive through means and alliances that only make sense in the midst of brutality. Out of necessity dangerous enemies, including a former paratrooper and a former Irish Republican, forge a surprising alliance and relationship, which at one point teeters on the edge of falling into the precipice of increased violence, then toddles on towards an accepted peace within their walls. Playing all the parts, Thomas manages to convey the tension admirably.
It is indicative of the skill Thomas as Frankie, our narrator, works material in well as he narrates from the riots, to a change made to the prison system by the authorities designed to avoid another Strangeway riots but was headed up by the same governor who was in charge at Strangeways when it, literally, lit up. This new regime allows Frankie to find himself becoming increasingly alive to his own possibilities despite the constant threat around him. As the recovering drug addict trying to survive and navigate his way, Thomas casts a determined figure who maintains his hopefulness through naivete and guile. The script delivers plenty of little sidelines including Frankie’s novel, which he is desperate that nobody reads, his guilt over his love life after a hospital visit, and how his final ending was never justified, leaving his loved ones without this creative and bright raconteur in their lives. Frankie can tell and inhabit a tale, vividly and candidly.
Ordinary Decent Criminal speaks to redemption as well as the corruption of the system, with a performance which, thick recognisable accents aside, does have nuance. At times it might feel quite shouty, but it’s a fair reflection on life in that it can be a struggle to get heard unless you raise your game, and with it your voice.
The set is curious with upturned barriers lit from within,splattered across the stage. The set frames it all effectively and the lights and the sounds are well integrated, shining sufficient light and being synched with the action.
The ending, which is both surprising and a shock, works because we are beginning to celebrate his freedom when it comes to an end. We simply don’t see it coming, and it arrives with little warning, however, after reflection it is clear he wasn’t going to ride off into the sunset like a 21st century Jimmy Boyle.
Directed with skill by Charlotte Bennett, this is a story that is of its age and of now, of the 1990s and for the 21st Century. It doesn’t saccharine coat whatever pill it’s offering.
On the day I saw the show, Thomas warned us he was a little under par with his throat. Once into the swing as Frankie, Thomas takes us into this palm to tell his misfortune whilst holding us there to learn from these characters who have very little voice otherwise and it is well worth sitting back and giving this guv’nor the respect he craves.
Ordinary Decent Criminal, Summerhall, 31st July – 25th August – various times
Review Date: Wednesday 20th August 2025
