Here we are again, watching ne’er-do-wells in a rural Irish tavern where tall stories help to pass the time. Days after the revival of Conor McPherson’s The Weir finished its run in the West End, the National’s Lyttelton plays host to the JM Synge play that could be described as the grandaddy of this tradition.
Fans of Bridgerton and Derry Girls will be keen to see what Nicola Coughlan makes of the role of the Co Mayo publican’s daughter, Pegeen. She gives an assured performance as a wilful young woman who falls under the spell of Christy Mahon, the dubious stranger who suddenly becomes a village celebrity after claiming to have killed his father.
But be warned: this production from Caitríona McLaughlin, the artistic director of the Abbey Theatre in Dublin, is too reverential to do full justice to the dark humour in the text. It’s also delivered in strong traditional accents that will leave outsiders straining to make sense of the dialogue. Some of the cast members — although not Coughlan, thankfully — give their lines an almost operatic flourish, phrases melting into each other with barely a breath between.
Still, Siobhán McSweeney, another Derry Girls star, raises many a smile as the conniving Widow Quin, who has her own designs on the newcomer. Immaculately dressed, she deploys her charms on Christy while Pegeen’s feckless suitor Shawn (Marty Rea) looks on helplessly.
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It’s with the arrival of Christy’s father — who is very much alive and well, although nursing a head wound — that the mood of the locals begins to change. What makes the tale even harder to swallow is that Éanna Hardwicke’s Christy is such a pitiable figure when he makes his first appearance, nursing his filthy feet by the fire. This wanderer, by turns shifty and self-pitying, is anything but heroic.
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MARC BRENNER
McLaughlin fleshes out the rows and tantrums with stylised interludes involving a silhouetted procession of mummers in straw masks that shuffles past in the background, Erin Hennessey’s fiddler leading the way. There’s lots of keening too, a sombre contrast to the distant sound of locals cheering Christy on in a donkey race.
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When the storyline sags, you can while away the time by admiring the set design. Katie Davenport gives us a spacious shebeen which, to be honest, looks a little too neat and tidy. There’s the obligatory downpour of rain at the start, and a gigantic image of the lower half of a woman in a red skirt hangs above the stage before proceedings begin. Eye-catching, yes, but not quite enough to make the drama seem more than a mildly intriguing period piece.
★★★☆☆
150min
To Feb 28, Lyttelton Theatre, nationaltheatre.org.uk