Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Risteard Cooper’

Anne Washburn is an original and interesting playwright, but after a third exposure to her work, this juror’s still out on whether she’s a good one.

Jools & Jim have invited five friends to their new remote country home. They’re not experienced in country living and they’re not particularly good hosts, so as the weather deteriorates and the power is cut off, their supplies run out. They don’t run out of conversation, though, as they reflect on life in Trump’s divided America and how they got there. These are the liberal Americans – a wealthy gay couple, New York lawyers Andrew & Yusuf, a struggling straight, somewhat alternative couple, Richard & Laurie, and singleton Allie. The conversation widens to all sorts of apparently related subjects including the Jonestown massacre, racism & colonialism and Lord of the Rings!

We’re occasionally visited by Mark, the adopted black son of white parents who appear to be the former inhabitants of the house, who tells us his story. We also get a meeting between Trump and George W Bush as president, and towards the end a surreal version of that infamous confrontation between Trump and FBI chief Corney. There’s an awful lot of ground covered but at almost 3.5 hours it didn’t sustain its length (there were a conspicuous number of empty seats after the interval). Often thought-provoking and fitfully gripping, it was too much of a ramble, wordy and undramatic, lacking coherence, a download of thoughts and ideas, trying to say so much that more became less.

It’s staged in the round, in a design by Miriam Buether which has a partly revolving stage and a platform against the back wall on which there are projections. There was one row of audience sitting in chairs close to the stage as if at a dinner table, who participated in the surreal scene. There are lovely performances from Justine Mitchell, Fisayo Akinade, Adam James, Elliott Cowan, Tara Fitzgerald, Khalid Abdalla, Raquel Cassidy and Risteard Cooper, but these and Rupert Goold’s production are a lot better than the material.

Read Full Post »

I didn’t join in with the seemingly universal euphoria when I saw this play’s premiere 16 years ago at the Royal Court. I warmed to it more in this finely cast revival in the Donmar’s perfect intimate space, but I still can’t see it as the modern classic it’s claimed to me.

You’re virtually inside Tom Scutt’s hyper-realistic pub; it’s as if they built the seating around it rather than built the set on stage. The play starts with a bit of inconsequential everyday business and chatter between publican Brendan and customer Jack. They are joined by another customer Jim, and Jack announces that boy-made-good hotelier Finbar is showing a new lady resident around and will soon be joining them. They speculate on his motives with just a touch of distaste and jealousy.

When Finbar and Valerie arrive, she becomes the focus of attention as they seek to uncover her story and impress her with their stories of fairies and ghosts. The play turns when Valerie tells her tale, which reveals her tragedy. When Finbar and Jim leave, Jack tells his own real story of an unfulfilled life and loneliness as Brendan, who seems to be heading for the same fate, looks on.

This time, the real lives of the three lonely men struck me more. Jim looking after mammy, Jack unable to make the break and escape when he could and Brendan tied to the family pub with visits from his sisters guarding their share. I also enjoyed the running joke of the arrival of the German tourists and the brilliant final reference to them. In the end though, it’s still a bunch of blokes in a pub telling stories, which doesn’t make a modern classic in my book.

The chief pleasure for me was the performances. It’s great to see Brian Cox back on stage in a role that really suits him. It’s good to watch the relatively unsung Peter McDonald develop his craft. Risteard Cooper impresses as he did in his English debut in the NT’s Juno and Dervla Kirwan pulls off the difficult task of portraying her character’s sadness alongside all of the banter. Ardel O’Hanlon was a bit one-note for me, but it didn’t deter from the overall effect of a fine ensemble.

It should really be called ‘The Irish’ because in the end it’s just the Irishness brand on stage – charming, wistful, nostalgic, self-deprecating, conservative. The gift of the gab indeed.

Read Full Post »

When the curtain opens at the Lyttleton (yes, a curtain – that’s a novelty these days) you’re a bit baffled. We’re in what appears to be a squat in an abandoned stately home, yet the play takes place in a Dublin tenement. This is partly explained in a programme essay, but the crux of it is that it robs the play of the intensity of tenement life, even though it is a brilliant design by Bob Crowley.

The problem with the play is its unevenness. The first half is a domestic (black) comedy with not much more than a hint at what’s happening outside (civil war!), played for laughs in Howard Davies’ production, dangerously close to cartoonish. O’Casey leaves much of the story and most of the context to the (shorter) second half which for me is the fundamental flaw. A bit like The Veil, which is currently sharing this theatre (with a design that could be the same stately home before it was abandoned), he could have made so much more of what’s going on outside in a crucial point in Ireland’s history (or at the time he wrote it, current affairs). 

We’re with the Boyle family – father Jack, an old sea dog, is a work shy drunkard; son Johnny is involved with a pre-cursor of the IRA and has lost an arm as a result and daughter Mary has left boyfriend Jerry behind and taken up with Charles (more prospects) Bentham. The family is held together by mother Juno, a feisty matriarch who is both breadwinner and homemaker. Jack’s drinking mate Joxer, who’s cynically taking advantage, is omnipresent – when Juno lets him. They get news of an inheritance and start spending the money before they’ve got it. In the second half, it all unravels. The inheritance never comes through and everything is repossessed, Mary gets pregnant and the IRA come for Johnny who has allegations to answer. 

The real reason for seeing this revival is a set of performances it would be hard to match on any stage. This is the best performance I’ve seen Sinead Cusack give. She beautifully balances the love of her family with the assertiveness needed to keep them together. Ciaran Hinds inhabits Jack, his main concern almost always his next drink, yet naive to Joxer’s exploitation. Risteard Cooper’s Joxer is a brilliant creation, going through life as a chancer and parasite, but with a charm and a swagger. Clare Dunne and Ronan Raftery do well as Mary and Johnny and there’s a fine supporting cast.

It’s an uneven evening, but well worth the visit for the performances alone.

Read Full Post »