Martin McDonagh’s The Cripple of Inishmaan Beguiles at Dramaworks

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.

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.

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.

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.

Adelind Horan, Adam Petherbridge

 Photo by Samantha Mighdoll

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.

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.

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.

Stage Photo by Robert Hagelstein

 

Peanut Island, Trevor, and Politics

Tuesday’s weather was one of those travelogue-featured Florida days, relatively low humidity, light winds out of the east, temperature reaching the mid-80’s, just a perfect day for boating, especially as the weekdays features light “boat traffic.”  It’s gotten to the point where I will not even go out on a weekend when the “crazies” seize the waterways, their uneducated or inconsiderate boat handling making for dangerous, uncomfortable going at times.  Being responsible for one’s wake is unheeded by many.

But I’ve digressed.  So Tuesday dawned a beautiful day, a day to be on the water, to escape the constant political drumbeat, and to enjoy what led us to Florida in the first place.  Ann was busy, so that meant going out on my own.  In this area, there are a few choices for a solitary journey.  First, go up or down the Intracoastal or go out into the ocean and do the same.  In other words, take a ride, but that doesn’t appeal to me anymore unless I’m taking someone who would like to see the sights.  Another option is to drop a hook at an anchorage, probably in northern Lake Worth, sit in the shade of the tee top, and read.  I can go swimming off the boat, but prefer someone with me to do that although I normally have no difficulty getting off or on the boat.  The third, more preferable option is to go to a beach, only reachable by boat, in that case either Munyon Island or Peanut Island.  The latter is further and the boat needed a run anyhow, so off to Peanut I went.

It was the right decision as the island was mostly deserted……just what I sought, some peace and quiet.  Brought a sandwich and some Perrier, tied the boat up at the floating docks in the Peanut Island Boat basin, and then walked the quarter mile or so to “my” beach, with a beach chair and reading material. This consisted first of the Wall Street Journal which to me nowadays is “light” reading except for a few articles and the second collection of short stories by William Trevor who I haven’t returned to ever since the election and getting sucked into the abyss of political news.  Time to turn to an old friend to accompany me on my island and forget about everything else.

His second short story anthology Selected Stories consists of ones he wrote later in life, many when he was my age, so I particularly relate to them. As an “Anglo-Irish” writer his shift seems to be more towards where he grew up, Ireland, and not where he lived most of his adult life, England.   He is indeed an Irish story teller.

After a swim (or more like floating) in the clear Bahamian-like waters of Peanut Island, passing by the “Waterway Grille” at a mooring (want pizza at the beach? - just tie your boat up to this houseboat), I had my lunch and dispensed with the WSJ and then settled down with my companion, William Trevor.  

I read and pretty much reread his story Widows, classic Trevor, a story about a slice of life of persons of no particular interest, attribute, or fame, everyman in his naked self.  The story starts off with such a memorable line, immediately bringing you into the story: Waking on a warm, bright morning in early October, Catherine found herself a widow.” Her husband, Mathew, died in his sleep right next to her.  Then in one sentence you get a good idea of both of them:  Quiet, gently spoken, given to thought before offering an opinion, her husband had been regarded by Catherine as cleverer and wiser than she was herself, and more charitable in his view of other people. 

He was well thought of, organized and professional as a seller of agricultural equipment.  He even anticipated the inevitable day when they would be separated by death: Matthew had said more than once, attempting to anticipate the melancholy of their separation: they had known that it was soon to be.  He would have held the memories to him if he’d been the one remaining. ‘Whichever is left,’ he reminded Catherine as they grew old, ‘it’s only for the time being.’…Matthew had never minded talking about their separation, and had taught her not to mind either.

It is not until the funeral that we are introduced to another key character, the other widow (after all the title of the short story is Widows) and that person is Catherine’s sister, Alicia.  She had been living in the house with Catherine and Matthew since her own philandering husband had died nine years earlier.  So there is now the contrast of a happy marriage and Alicia’s unhappy on.  The sisters are now alone in the house.  Alicia is the older, and their relationship seems to be reverting into one before their marriages, the older helping, guiding the younger.

Until the other major character emerges, a painter, Mr. Leary, who brought no special skill to his work and was often accused of poor workmanship, which in turn led to disputes about payment.  Weeks after the funeral he comes by the house to discuss an outstanding bill, an embarrassment because of the death.  He explains that work he had done for Matthew on the house, for cash, £226 to be exact, had not been paid.  Catherine clearly remembers withdrawing the money in that exact amount for Matthew to give to him, and even has the bank records to that effect, but Mr. Leary asks whether she had a receipt.  Mrs. Leary always issued a receipt and there was none in her receipt book.  Are you sure the money was delivered to Mrs. Leary?  The reader is left with the insinuation that perhaps Matthew used the money for something tawdry or at least careless.  Catherine and her sister think that this is just a clever scheme by the Leary’s to be double paid.  She ignores it for awhile but still ponders the possible reasons and then a statement is delivered by mail that the amount is past due.  And that’s part of the genius and wonderment of the story: we never really know whether it was paid or not and if not why (although one is left with the feeling it was).

Catherine is tortured by this knowing a statement will come month after month and finally declares to her sister her intention to pay the bill (probably again).  Catherine was paying money in case, somehow, the memory of her husband should be accidentally tarnished.  And knowing her sister well, Alicia knew that this resolve would become more stubborn as more time passed.  It would mark and influence her sister; it would breed new eccentricities in her.  If Leary had not come that day there would have been something else.

So, in a sharp turn in the story, the spotlight now shines on the relationship between the sisters. This is another Trevor technique of shifting the story suddenly to the real one: an old power struggle to a degree, Alicia being the older and when they were younger considered the more beautiful.  Why shouldn’t things return to the way they were? The disagreement between the sisters, to pay or not, reaches a climax one night.  They did not speak again, not even to say goodnight.  Alicia closed her bedroom door, telling herself crossly that her expectation had not been a greedy one.  She had been unhappy in her foolish marriage, and after it she had been beholden in this house.  Although it ran against her nature to do so, she had borne her lot without complaint; why should she not fairly have hoped that in widowhood they would again be sisters first of all?....By chance, dishonesty had made death a potency for her sister, as it had not been when she was widowed herself.  Alicia had cheated it of its due; it took from her now, as it had not then.” Talk about great writing.  That last sentence is a gem.  And that is what Trevor’s writing is all about, the commonplace, but those profound moments in each “everyman’s” life.

So, my day at Peanut passed with natural beauty and my renewed “friendship” with William Trevor, to be revisited as time permits.  I packed up, walked back to the boat, the late afternoon sun now beating heavily, boarded the boat and went north on Lake Worth back to my dock to clean up the boat and get ready for dinner with friends.  It was a day away from Twitter and current news so it was not until I got into the car with our friends that I learned that FBI Director James Comey was abruptly fired by Trump, the details of which as we get deeper and deeper into it are as bizarre as any fiction I’ve read.

It seems to me that the next few days are decisive as to whether we will (as we have up to now) accept this as the "new normal" or some courageous Republican Senators draw the line at this and insist on a special prosecutor.    If you switch back and forth between Fox and MSNBC you would think we are living on two different planets.  The assistant White House press secretary was waxing eloquently that the decision was oh so, so, swift and decisive.  Just her kind of man!

The disingenuous letter from Trump cited the “recommendations” of Attorney General Jeff Sessions and Deputy Attorney General Rod J. Rosenstein.  The latter said Comey should be fired because of the way he handled Hillary Clinton emails!  But the most bewildering part of Trump’s firing letter is the following sentence:  “While I greatly appreciate you informing me, on three separate occasions, that I am not under investigation, I nevertheless concur with the judgement of the Department of Justice that you are not able to effectively lead the Bureau.”  In other words, I’m firing you because of how you helped me get elected, not because you are leading the investigation into my ties to Russia, and I need to get a partisan FBI director who will do my bidding.

Here's hoping our Republic survives instead of stealthily slipping into an obedient dictatorship.

Martin McDonagh’s The Cripple of Inishmaan Opens at Palm Beach Dramaworks May 19th

Dramaworks will conclude its season with Martin McDonagh’s The Cripple of Inishmaan.  Six years ago, Dramaworks’ last performance at its former intimate stage on Banyan Street was McDonagh’s The Beauty Queen of Leenane, a play that rips your heart out.  I reviewed it as “grimy and gritty…[with] dark humor that shrouds the entire play.”

But have no such fear seeing The Cripple of Inishmaan as it is essentially a touching comedy, beautifully crafted by a master playwright.  Like Beauty Queen, this play unfolds in a remote setting in Ireland, where people cobble a life out of unforgiving isolation and hardship -- after all, this is Irish Theatre. 

Dreams are in short supply on the desolate island of Inishmaan, particularly for the sensitive, physically challenged Billy Claven.  So when word arrives that an American filmmaker is coming to the neighboring island of Inishmore to make a motion picture (this part is based on fact when the director Robert J. Flaherty went to the Aran Islands in 1931 to make a documentary about the harsh conditions there), Billy yearns for a part in the movie, hoping for a trip to Hollywood and to escape the cruelty and bleakness that engulf him.  

Dramaworks’ usual brilliant casting has called on a mix of newcomers to play alongside several of the incredibly talented South Florida veterans who have graced the Dramaworks stage many times before.  I caught up with some of them and the Director during Dramaworks’ Press Day.

PBD’s production is directed by J. Barry Lewis who has stunningly brought to life scores of South Florida productions.   He commented “This play is truly built around character identity, unique characters caught in a harsh world, some wanting to leave. Each character has very specific human needs and the action flows from that.” He characterizes it as a “dramatic comedy” and thinks one of the minor but particularly oddball characters, Bartley, has a key line which goes to the heart of the play’s theme: “It never hurts to be too kind.”  He added that in PBD’s casting “you create a kind of family with each production.”

Adam Petherbridge

And what a cast!  Among the newcomers is the lead Adam Petherbridge as Billy Claven.  Besides the obvious challenges of playing a young man with such severe physical disabilities, he noted the difficulties of dealing with his changing relationship to the other characters.  “J. Barry has been great in pointing out a path,” he said.  Not so coincidentally, this is his favorite play.  “I read it in college and have always wanted to do the role ever since.  When I saw it listed for casting in NYC about a year ago I said to my agent, let’s go after it!” Petherbridge sees this as “true Irish theatre, particularly in its use of rhythmic language. “

Another NYC based actor making her PBD debut is Adelind Horan who plays the feisty lass, Helen.  She shares a remarkable happenstance with Petherbridge as she has always wanted to play this role since she saw the play when she was 10 years old!  Her parents are both actors and her father once played the role of Babbybobby in the play.  So both actors are fulfilling a dream. 

Adelind Horan

Horan is also the author of a one person play focused on the hardships in the Appalachian region, Cry of the Mountain.  She has been to the Aran Islands and sees “many similarities between the hardships of the people of Appalachia and the people of remote West Ireland.”  Although her character has a hard exterior, “I think Helen likes Billy all along and all the characters essentially have a soft core.”

Billy’s “pretend aunties” are played by Laura Turnbull (Kate) and Elizabeth Dimon (Eileen), two of the finest actors in South Florida, double threats as they are both dramatic and musical performers as well.  And they are also best friends and although they have played opposite one another as friends and even as lovers in past plays, this is the first time they are playing sisters, which describes how they actually feel about one another.  One can only imagine how this deep respect for each other will surface in this production.

Laura Turnbull

Turnbull mentioned “there are dialogue challenges in playing Kate but I love doing an authentic west coast Irish accent (although liberties are taken to make everything clear to the SF audience).”  “I see Kate as a kind woman with a lot to worry about and especially needing to be kind to Billy.” 

Elizabeth Dimon

Elizabeth Dimon said she feels “that while her character, Eileen, is very tender toward Billy, she will correct him when she feels he is wrong.  All the characters have a good heart, but don’t cross them up or make them feel like a fool.  Although bleakness is a given, I love the well written characters and the dialect.”  And she echoed Turnbull’s sentiments about returning again to do a play at Dramaworks, to work with J. Barry and especially the cast.  “It’s like family, a sense of comfort; you know the actors and you know the process.”

Others in the cast or crew of this PBD production are Colin McPhillamy as the “town crier” Johnnypateenmike O’Dougal, Wesley Slade (PBD debut) as Bartley, Helen’s younger brother, Jim Ballard as Babbybobby, Dennis Creaghan as Doctor McSharry, and Harriet Oser as Mammy O’Dougal. Scenic design is by Victor Becker, costume design is by Franne Lee (PBD debut), lighting design is by Paul Black, and sound design is by Steve Shapiro.

The Cripple of Inishmaan opens at Palm Beach Dramaworks on May 19 and continues through June 4, with specially priced previews on May 17 and 18.  The performance schedule includes evening performances Wednesday through Saturday at 8PM, and Sundays at 7PM. Matinee performances are on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday at 2PM.  Post-performance discussions follow Wednesday matinee and Sunday evening performances.  Individual tickets are $66, with specially priced preview tickets at $46 and Opening Night tickets at $81.  Student tickets are available for $10; tickets for educators are half price with proper ID (other restrictions apply).  Group rates for 20 or more and discounted season subscriptions are also available.

The Don & Ann Brown Theatre is located in the heart of downtown West Palm Beach, at 201 Clematis Street.  For ticket information contact the box office at (561) 514-4042, or visit www.palmbeachdramaworks.org.