THERE was, understandably, considerable excitement when the National Theatre of Scotland announced this staging of Damian Barr’s acclaimed memoir Maggie & Me, about growing up gay in Lanarkshire under the Tory government of Margaret Thatcher.

The creative marriage between writers Barr and James Ley (the dramatist behind such hit plays as Wilf and Love Song To Lavender Menace) promised to be one forged, if not in Heaven, then certainly in some sort of Scottish cultural paradise.

Barr’s memoir – which recounts a childhood dominated by poverty, neglect, physical abuse, anguished sexual awakening and vicious homophobia – is set against the backdrop of Thatcher’s war on trade unionists and their industries. The Ravenscraig steelworks (where Barr’s father worked) was a towering presence until it was wiped brutally from Britain’s rapidly shrinking industrial map.

The National: Review: Memories of pain and     resilience

Add to this the discoveries of the wonders of literature, friendship and erotic love, and the story has enough drama for Barr, Ley and director Suba Das to forge two plays, at least. And that, it seems, is a large part of the problem for this frustrating, almost three-hour-long drama.

The play is placed within the theatrical frame of the latter-day Barr’s tortured attempts (at the Brighton home he shares with his long-suffering partner) to write his autobiographical opus. There we see him wrestling with the competing demands of publisher’s deadlines, domestic life and traumatic memory.

This device – in which scenes from Barr’s young life unfold from his writing process like fragments of dreams – might have succeeded, had both play and production had the necessary dramatic rigour. As it is, the piece overstays its welcome by at least an hour.

READ MORE: Alan Bissett: What separated Angus Og from his comic peers

Without question, Gary Lamont gives a sympathetic and compelling performance in the lead role. Indeed, fine performances abound, not least from Nicola Jo Cully (playing Barr’s beloved mother, and a panoply of other roles) and Douglas Rankine (in various roles, including Barr’s father and Logan, his mother’s brutal boyfriend).

Joanne Thomson is superb as Barr’s clever and compassionate school friend Heather (among others), while Beth Marshall’s playing of Margaret Thatcher is a satirical treat.

The play has many deeply affecting moments, such as the shock of the young Barr’s ungentle welcome to high school education, and instances of domestic and homophobic abuse that are genuinely stomach-turning. Barr’s joyous memories of the fearless and beautiful Mark (who is played with winning energy and humour by Grant McIntrye) is an undeniable delight.

The National: Review: Memories of pain and     resilience

In addition, there’s tremendous comedy in the use of TV newscasts to comment on aspects of Barr’s autobiography.

However, the drama’s overlong, episodic structure makes for a staging that lacks momentum and rhythm. Worryingly, for a production by our national theatre company, the piece is in desperate and obvious need of dramaturgical discipline.

Despite its considerable aesthetic shortcomings, the show enjoys some lovely design by Kenneth MacLeod (including a visually powerful evocation of the Ravenscraig works). The soundtrack, which is comprised of 1980s pop hits, boasts a number of certified bangers (including, of course, the Bronski Beat classic Smalltown Boy).

Touring until June 15: nationaltheatrescotland.com