"The Playboy of the Western World"

Theatre review
"The Playboy of the Western World" at the Hangar Theatre
Ithaca Times
August 8, 2008
689 words
"Murder, He Wrote"

full text here

Murder, He Wrote
By: Mark Tedeschi
08/06/2008

"The Playboy of the Western World" by John Millington Synge. Directed by Robert Moss. Starring Don Amendolia, Freddy Arsenault, Ian Boley, Christian Conn, Emily Robin Fink, Gretchen Hall, Rachel Johanson, Zachary Kamin, Christine Marquet, John Michalski, Claire Morrison, Ted Nappi, Evin Rose, Brendan Sokler, Mitch Tiffany. Set by David Meyer, costumes by Gretchen Darrow-Crotty, lighting by Matt Richards, sound by Eric Watkins, fight direction by Norm Johnson.

John Millington Synge's "The Playboy of the Western World," a dark comedy filled with love and loquacity, suspect storytelling, and aphrodisiacal parricide, is playing now at the Hangar Theatre. The dialogue is thick and the accents heavy, so if you go, be sure to bring your utmost attention along.

Robert Moss - Artistic Director of the Hangar from 1981-1996 - has returned to direct a credentialed cast of deft actors, particularly the five principals, in the most revered - and infamous - play in Synge's catalogue. Moss's and his cast's task seems fatiguing; Synge's dialogue can take a toll on an ear unfamiliar with Irish colloquialisms and speech patterns (there is a helpful three-word glossary in the program notes, but it's about as many pages too short). Inevitably, the dialogue will sometimes slip by the most acute of hearers, but befuddlement is a mark of authenticity: It sounds correct (and even beautiful, thanks to Moss and master vocal coach Thom Jones), if sporadically thwarting.

Because of the potential confusion, it's a good thing the compelling story is kept straightforward: Set in a pub on the rural coast of County Mayo, Ireland in 1907, "Playboy" takes place around the time it was premiered in Dublin. Low-volume wave crashes in Watkins's sound design subtly remind of the local ambience. A disordered man, Christy Mahon (Conn, portraying brilliantly Christy's crescendo of confidence), appears at the pub, owned by Michael James (Amendolia, and Seinfeld fans, just try and hide your excitement at seeing Kramer's neighbor Dennis from "The Rye").

Christy stumbles in wearing dirtied work clothing (Darrow-Crotty mostly sticks to a pleasing motif of small-town rusticity). There, he meets the barmaid, Michael's daughter, nicknamed Peegen Mike (Hall, smartly alternating staunch and fickle), a keen lady betrothed to Shawn Keogh (Arsenault, tragic in his justified cowardice).

Christy reveals that he has recently killed his abusive father, and here's where I'll offer a dialogue sample, spoken by Christy about his victim: "He a man'd be raging all times, the while he was waking... shying clods against the visage of the stars till he'd put the fear of death into the banbhs and the screeching sows." See?

The tale of murder-by-loy (that's a shovel) captivates the town, especially the women. Christy has the advantage of being a generally interesting chap, as if he'd been long thirsty for a chance to try out his charm. The Widow Quin (Fink) takes a liking enough to compete against Peegen's, and gains ammunition when she learns more about the titular Playboy.

Other acting standouts include Michalski, who belts the cast's best brogue through a voice of virtuosic inflection and character, and Amendolia, who besides having a bit part in a sitcom 12 years ago (in all seriousness, he has several other TV and film credits), can superbly play drunk, a feat often cited by actors as one of the hardest states to perform convincingly.

Michael James's pub is almost a character itself; scenic designer Meyer gave it a cozy fireplace and a small, inviting bar enclosed inside, worn rock walls to exude a dynamic homeyness buttressed by the oft-used walkway outside, visible on either side of the stage. Under Richards's lighting design, the pub takes on a completely different look in darkness and daytime, as real buildings do.

During its initial run, "Playboy" was met with protests - even riots - from Irish citizens offended by the play's moral callousness. In "Playboy," the townspeople's barely restrained jubilation - and more, the women's obvious sexual interest - about housing an in-cold-blood murderer is one of the most interesting elements in the play.

The dialogue, though also a strong, important part of the structure and atmosphere, is in parts a weakness: a few portions of early-third-act conversation stretch much longer than is needed. And I take issue with its billing as a comedy; the dialogue is clever, but the jokes were thin.

It's strange that an audience a century ago might have opinions opposite to mine regarding the play's content. Some of the words in "The Playboy of the Western World" may now sound outdated and unfamiliar, but its curious and engaging story was well ahead of its time.


©Ithaca Times 2008