The Cripple of
Inishmaan is an extraordinary theatre experience, a very good play becoming
great in the hands of superlative actors, the steady vision of the Director,
and a technical staff that is at the top of its game. The play itself is Martin McDonagh’s love
song to Ireland and its people, distilling centuries of Irish misery, laughter,
and story-telling. The characters he
draws are as memorable and distinctive as the music from a Rodgers and
Hammerstein musical. You will remember them
after the show, perhaps long after.
Dramaworks last staged a Martin McDonagh play six years ago, The Beauty Queen of Leenane. Think of The
Cripple of Inishmaan as Beauty Queen
“Lite”. Although tragedy and sadness
abound (after all, this is Irish theatre), there is a hopefulness, a heartening
instead of Beauty Queen‘s unrelenting
mournfulness.
The play is McDonagh’s hat tip to Sean O’Casey’s play Riders to the Sea about Aran fisherman
and their endurance. It is also linked
to a 1934 fictional documentary film, Man
of Aran, directed by Robert J. Flaherty about life on those craggy Aran
Islands off the western coast of Ireland where people stubbornly cobble a life.
The film itself plays a central part in the play and there is an excellent short excerpt of it on YouTube.
McDonagh uses every dramatic trick in the book, the plot taking
us down unexpected paths with a number of plot reversals which leave us wondering
where the truth really lies. Little
things in life matter on this desolate island where Johnnypateenmikes’s mundane
news makes life more endurable. In
Inishmaan there are many cruel ironies, but one must go on living.
The author has the audience irresistibly empathetic to these
idiosyncratic, endearing but fallible characters, even the most bizarre. They say outrageous things to and about each
other. The truth hangs heavily in their
banter and sarcasm.
One observes Kate talking to stones, Mammy drinking her Poteen,
Bartley having his “sweetie” obsession and Helen exhibiting her sadistic streak. Each character is crippled or feckless,
especially contrasted to Billy. Yet it
is Billy, the literal cripple, who contrives to leave Inishmaan in pursuit of the
dream of a better life. Another day of sniggering, or the patting me
on the head like a broken-brained fool.
The village orphan. The village
cripple, and nothing more. Well, there
are plenty round here just as crippled as me, only it isn’t on the outside it
shows.
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| Adam Petherbridge Photo by Alicia Donelan |
Billy is imaginatively played by PBD newcomer, Adam
Petherbridge. This demanding role
requires a high degree of physicality, as well as serious acting skill. Both are on display here, Petherbridge walking
with a twisted leg and foot and deformed arm along with constant coughing and
wheezing while creating a sympathetic character with insurmountable challenges.
Petherbridge inhabits this role. He strikes the fine balance of being
submissive to the mockery of his fellow villagers, yet possessing the insight
and intelligence to con his way to America for a screen test in a film. This is a scrupulously convincing actor who carries
us achingly through his story.
Among his most devoted supporters are the eccentric and
fussy sisters Kate and Eileen played respectively by Laura Turnbull and
Elizabeth Dimon, two grand dames of the Florida stage. They are orphaned Billy’s “pretend aunties”
and as the story unfolds, we learn that they have been raising Billy since his
parents drowned shortly after Billy was born.
The circumstances surrounding this event is one of the great mysteries
of the play, and that story evolves, changes, and has a great bearing on
Billy’s melancholy in addition to his physical disabilities.
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| Laura Turnbull and Elizabeth Dimon Photo by Cliff Burgess |
The play opens with the aunties who tend the little town
store. Their opening dialogue is funny,
revealing: KATE: Is Billy not yet home?
EILEEN: Not yet is Billy home.
It is a harbinger of dialogue to come, where subjects and verbs are
inverted, and repetition makes a humorous moment, and a reminder that if there
is any difficulty the audience might have understanding the western Irish
accent, listening to the whole statement will bring home the meaning.
If there was ever a vision of the kindly Irish grandma prototype,
look no further than Kate and Eileen. However,
if any two characters manifest a sort of helplessness, a disability of the
psyche, again look no further. This is
in sharp contrast to the boy they have cared for, who in spite of his physical limitations
is a more fully realized person. The “aunties”
manifest their dependence on Billy by falling apart in his absence. Both Turnbull and Dimon bring a wealth of
acting experience to their roles, raising the humor bar with simply a look or
gesture, popping the eyes or talking to a stone.
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| Harriet Oser and Colin McPhillamy Photo by Cliff Burgess |
Dominating the play with his outrageous brio in a staggering
performance is Colin McPhillamy who plays the pompous town crier, Johnnypateenmike
O’Dougal. Larger than life, he intensifies
an already hilarious role playing opposite his alcoholic “Mammy”, whose care of
her falls amazingly short of the dutiful son! He barters his exaggerated mundane news for
food at the sisters’ store and elsewhere to make himself feel important. The more scandalous the better. In fact there is a touch of Schadenfreude in
his reports : My news isn’t
shitey-arsed. My news is great
news. Did you hear Jack Ellery’s goose
and Pat Brennan’s cat have both been missing a week? I suspect something awful’s happened to them,
or I hope something awful’s happened to them. He puts down Billy constantly, but there is a
back story to his relationship which is ultimately revealed along with our
change of heart toward him.
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Adelind Horan, Adam Petherbridge
Photo by Samantha
Mighdoll
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And what would an Irish play be without a love interest
and that person originating in the most unlikely form: shrewish Helen. Young and attractive, she can be foul-mouthed
and vicious, an expert at humiliating anyone who crosses her path while she
leads around her clueless young brother, Bartley who is fascinated by
telescopes. Helen is played by Adelind
Horan, another PBD newcomer, who saw this play when she was 10 years old and
knew then that she wanted to become an actor and play Helen. Her wish is the audience’s delight. “Slippy Helen” is hell on wheels yet Horan knows
how to express a tender moment when needed, revealing her latent sensuousness. We are struck by her tomboyish behavior
throwing her legs wide on any table surface and yet managing to reveal the
blossoming woman waiting to be loved.
Wesley Slade’s Bartley McCormick (PBD debut) is the perfect comic
foil, especially enduring his sister’s sadism, always hanging around the store
looking for sweet Fripple-Frapples, or Mintios.
Slade’s body language and popping his cheeks when bored (which is most
of the time) are priceless. His inexplicable
fascination with telescopes is one of those many repetitive subjects that are
ripe for humor. Slade captures these
moments on stage in exaggerated and inartful poses slinging his body into absurdly
awkward positions.
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Adelind Horan, Wesley Slade
Photo by Alicia Donelan |
Babbybobby Bennett is played by the always dependable
veteran of many PBD productions, Jim Ballard.
He has the darkest role in the play and brings a frightening menace to
his character. He provides the means of escape
for Billy in a touching scene where you see him melt into compliance. Much later, Babbybobby discovers that he was
seriously deceived and finds a violent way to repay his being taken advantage
of. Babbybobby is yet another damaged
person, his young wife having died from TB, leaving a permanent scar which
Ballard’s performance heightens. His is a fine portrayal of the hardships
demanded by living on a stony remote island and being a dark force in the play.
The cast is rounded out by PBD veterans of many plays,
Dennis Creaghan as the straight-talking, small-town Doctor McSharry who is in
constant astonishment at Johnnypattenmike’s complicity in providing liquor to
his elderly mother, Mammy O’Dougal, alternately hilariously and cantankerously played
by Harriet Oser. Doctor McSharry warns
Johnny that when his Mammy dies he’ll cut out her liver to show him the damage
to which Johnny says: You won't catch me
looking at me mammy's liver. I can barely stomach the outside of her, let alone
the inside. But far from the good Doctor’s assumption, Johnny’s supply of
Poteen for his Mammy, a highly alcoholic drink made from potatoes, is really an
act of love.
Director J. Barry Lewis profoundly understands the challenges
of Irish theatre, focusing on a text analysis of The Cripple of Inishmaan which draws on traditional and native
customs, and establishes the characters foibles without them becoming
stereotypes. He finds the “spine” of the
work in Bartley’s line: “It never hurts to be too kind.” He capitalizes on the play’s inconsequential
acts which become “heightened actions.”
Lewis taps into McDonagh’s mix of realism and humor. Timing is everything and Lewis plays along
with McDonagh’s poking fun at a negative national identity, a humorous
leitmotif throughout the play, various characters making observations at different points in the play about why
people would want to come to Ireland, such as
JOHNNY: They all
want to come to Ireland, sure. Germans,
dentists, everybody.
MAMMY: And why, I
wonder
JOHNNY: Because in
Ireland the people are more friendly.
You will hear the term “dark comedy” bantered about when
discussing a McDonagh play. As Billy
says to Bartley: You shouldn’t laugh at
other people’s misfortunes. Perhaps that
is the essence of dark comedy. But this
play is more of a character driven drama with comedy that is intrinsic to each
of the characters. You laugh more at
their eccentricities. It is satire, funny
also because of careful timing and facial expressions. This can be experienced only in live theatre.
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Colin McPhillamy with Laura Turnbull and Elizabeth Dimon
Photo by Alicia Donelan |
Costumes acquire a special importance in this production. Their design is by Franne Lee (PBD debut) who
has Tony Awards for her Broadway productions of Candide and Sweeney Todd,
and who even worked at Saturday Night Live (think iconic Cone Heads). While she had the historical footage of Man of Aran to work with, she used a
creative approach to define the individuality of the characters through their
costumes. Some are designed to inspire laughter,
such as Johnnypateenmike’s long coat with cavernous pockets and all the gewgaws
hanging around his waist to draw attention to his role as the bombastic town crier
and buffoon. Helen’s costumes reflect
her younger age set, flimsier and short, while the “aunties” clothes with multiple
long wool skirts and layers of long sleeved blouses and long aprons clearly
denote the older generation. Mammy’s
little bonnet is, well, precious. Babbybobby
is attired to display his bludgeoning virility, first nearly shirtless with his
yellow canvas pants and later with his long dark pea coat, Wellington boots and
wool cap contrasting to Billy’s cobbled together pants and suspenders, suggesting
a fragile vulnerableness.
The scenic design by Victor Becker is representational
and modular in nature, six different transitional designs connoting isolation
and desolation. As the set is
monochromatic, Paul Black’s lighting accentuates color palettes, valuing tone
and mood over starkly lit realism. For
example, in Act II after Babbybobby has discovered he was deceived, watch the
lighting of his face, further establishing the dark, brooding, menacing nature
of the man. The lighting of the scene
where the townspeople watch the Man of
Aran captures the very essence of being in a theatre and we, the audience,
being able to watch the reactions of the characters to the film.
Sound by Steve Shapiro conveys the unrelenting sea, the
sound of seagulls at the opening while at the same time balancing those sounds
of the hard life on the island with transitional, uplifting Irish folk music.
Special mention goes to the dialect Coach, Ben
Furey. The western Irish accent is highly
distinctive and the cast seems to have captured that without (as so often
happens) the audience paying a price in not understanding all of the words. So we have the best of both worlds in this production,
genuine Irish theatre and clarity as one becomes accustomed to the cadence of the
dialogue.
And a call out to the man behind the scenes, Stage
Manager James Danford, a tireless job to keep everything in the right place at
the right time and things moving in a tight production.
Don’t miss a great evening (or afternoon) of theatre and
join in the well deserved standing ovation.
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| Stage Photo by Robert Hagelstein |
