Cillian Murphy is always a mesmerising
presence and never more so than in his latest offering as Thomas Magill in Enda Walsh’s Misterman. The
Lyttleton stage is transformed by Jamie
Vartan into a two-storey vast warehouse strewn with everything except the kitchen
sink, but Murphy is undaunted by such a space and occupies it effortlessly from
the word go. From the moment he first
appeared I was totally transfixed, never sure where the play was going or how
it would end, but convinced that whatever happened the journey would be well
worth undertaking.
Enda
Walsh directs his solo actor and the pace and tightness of the performance is
testament to the fact that they’ve worked together before. It’s a masterclass in how to do physical,
comedic, poetic and, ultimately tragic acting.
Except that Cillian Murphy doesn’t act, he inhabits.
Thomas
Magill is a humble man of God from Innisfree who believes that his mission in
life is to save the various other inhabitants from a life of sin and evil. Fixated by his mammy who he periodically
chats to before setting off into the village to buy her jammy dodgers, we
realise from the start that all is not right in his world. But why the reel-to-reel tape recorders,
barking dogs and demented toing and froing around the whole Lyttleton
stage? Bit by bit these questions are
answered but the whole devasting reason for Thomas’s (don’t you dare call him
Tom) retreat into this hell hole is only disclosed at the very end of the
play. Before that we see Murphy’s many
layered character re-enacting a single day in his life when he chatted to
fellow residents of Innisfree, whilst recording the conversations on a tape
recorder and writing in his notebook. Except that when the words of the
townsfolk are not re-played by him on the tape machines, Murphy effortlessly delivers
them himself, switching hilariously and fluidly between characters.
As
that fateful day begins to unfold we begin to understand that this friendly, if
strange, fellow harbours a dark side.
Whether this is inherent or caused by the cruel taunting of his fellow
neighbours, we’re never sure. In fact
Enda never actually let’s us know if the taunts are real or imaginary. All we do know is that in Murphy’s more than
capable hands, the vulnerableThomas elicits our sympathy despite the
devastating result of a fateful encounter with a beautiful girl, or angel. An earlier moment when he sits at his
father’s graveside and childlike says, “I really miss you Daddy, but I’m doing
my best with it” moved me to tears.
The
creative team which includes Adam
Silverman as the Lighting Designer and Gregory
Clarke in charge of Sound, are brilliant, drawing everyone into the
disturbed, lonely and ultimately sad world of a total outsider. No mean feat with such a technical production
which has had to be choreographed to the nth degree.
When
this off-beat, compelling, thought provoking and unique play ended, I was
actually shaking with emotion. To my
mind it is unmissable.
