Conor McPherson is
turning out to be one of my favourite playwrights. His play, The Weir, which was the last offering at The Donmar was exemplary, so it was with excited anticipation that
we headed off to that same space to see his latest offering. This time he is the Director and, although The
Night Alive isn’t as wonderful a play as The Weir, it is pretty damned good.
Soutra Gilmour’s
atmospheric set is a shabby bedsit belonging to an equally shabby Tommy (Ciaran Hinds). Tommy, a fifty something who has really let
himself go, is separated from his wife and children and rents the room off his
Uncle Maurice (Jim Norton). Maurice owns the whole house, lives upstairs
and continually frets about Tommy allowing “guests” to stay in his room. Beneath his grumpy veneer Maurice obviously
cares deeply for Tommy, who in turn often hides his caring nature, especially
when bickering with his mate, Doc (Michael
McElhatton). Tommy earns a crust or
two by doing odd jobs in his, one assumes, white van, aided and abetted by
Doc. Doc has mild learning difficulties and
seems very reliant on his relationship with Tommy, so much so that he’s rather
put out when a female is added to the mix in the shape of Aimee (Caoilfhionn Dunne). Tommy is her knight in shining armour, having
found her bleeding and battered in the street following a beating from her
boyfriend, Kenneth (Brian Gleeson). He brings her back to his room to recuperate
and offers her tea, sympathy and a dog biscuit (Tommy’s idea of a rich tea is a
Bonio taken from the box). She in turn
offers him physical comfort beneath the sheets.
Is she a prostitute? Probably,
although this, like so many other things about this play isn’t clear. What is obvious is that Tommy and Aimee forge
a very close, albeit strange, friendship, him even professing his love for her
at one point. As in The Weir, a woman has once again thrown the lives of lonely single
men into disarray. The play is
wonderfully comic with Conor PcPherson’s
lyrical writing at full tilt, but there is a sinister undertone. It’s not a relaxing atmosphere in this Dublin
house and the arrival of Aimee’s demented boyfriend, or is it ex, makes us
realize why. The following violence is
so real it takes the breath away. and is in such sharp contrast to the gorgeous
moment when the three damaged dependents forget their troubles for a moment and
dance to Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On.
A glorious piece of theatre.
The whole cast is superb. Ciaran
Hinds, resplendent in hideous long, lank black wig, allows us to glimpse a
decent bloke beneath the stained t-shirt and laconic wit. Michael
McElhatton has us all rooting for his sweet natured, sandwich short of a
picnic Doc, especially when we realize he will become Aimee’s boyfriend’s next
victim. Jim Norton is magnificent throughout, but especially so when he
gives a master class in drunk acting and Caolifhionn
(how on earth does one pronounce that) Dunne
is definitely one to watch. Brian
Gleeson, too, makes the blood run cold, so believable is his deeply
disturbed Kenneth.
The ending is rather odd and
surprising but what’s gone before, the humour, pathos, drama and choice of
music, all parceled up in a thoroughly entertaining 105 minutes, more than
makes up for it. So much so that I
tried, unsuccessfully, to book and see it a second time.