David Ian Neville is a playwright and director. Writing credits include: the Edinburgh Fringe First award-winning play, Exile (Edinburgh, King’s Head & Bush Theatre, London): Dough (Oran Mor, Glasgow); Twelfth Day of July (TAG) & Across The Barricades (TAG & New Vic Stoke-on-Trent); A Deafening Silence (Byre Theatre, St Andrews); The Heart of The City & Coppelia (Proteus Theatre Co. Basingstoke); The award-winning TV plays Martha & The Audition (STV); Desperate Measures & Inside (BBC Radio 4); Why Here?(Molecule Theatre of Science.) Radio producing & directing credits for the BBC include: Pleading by Rob Drummond; Room For Refugees by Gerda Stevenson; A World Elsewhere by Clara Glynn; The Quest Of Donal Q with Brian Cox & Billy Connolly; The Dreamer by Ronald Frame; the radio versions of Black Watch by Gregory Burke; Dunsinane and Midsummer by David Greig and Fall by Zinnie Harris. Recent theatre directing credits include: Pleading by Rob Drummond (A Play, A Pie & A Pint, Oran Mor, Glasgow & Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh) & Where's Lulu? (A Play, A Pie & A Pint, Oran Mor, Glasgow ); Little Fir Tree (Kings Place, London)
EXILE by David Ian Neville. (Produced at Edinburgh Fringe & Bush Theatre, London)
Scotsman Fringe First Award – Edinburgh Festival Fringe
“…..beautifully structured, lucidly written…” The Scotsman (Hayden Murphy)
“…….writing of the highest order…..” The Herald (Jackie McGlone)
“….writing that is jagged, simple, direct and very moving….” The Observer (Michael Coveney)
Extract from EXILE:
SANDRA: I knew something was going to happen. I've always been playing a part......ever since I was a little girl, a little soul in a world of sacred angels......Father O'Malley was forever telling me how we were all important little cogs in the eternal plan, we all had our part to play, we were all just as important in the eyes of the Almighty. So here I am playing out my cameo, stuck in a foreign land......ironic when you think about it, we never had central heating in Murtagh Road, it was top of the list if we won the pools, and yet here I am suffocating and missing the Murtagh Road draughts................
'Sandra, are you not sleeping yet?"
I'm freezin' Ma, there's icicles on the windows!
And that was in the summer.
I don't know where to begin. Partly because I'm not used to this sort of thing and partly because it still hurts to think. I can see Liam now, he's probably in some deserted farmhouse across the border, hiding like a refugee from humanity.....it's funny him there and me here, when we used to dream of being together......Murtagh Road's got a lot to answer for.......I don't even know how to dream anymore.
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