Aristocrats at The Donmar

Whilst on a road trip around the west coast of Ireland last year, I was astonished to notice the dearth of large smart country houses and preponderance of identical little white ones, recalling Pete Seeger’s song, ‘Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky tacky, little boxes all the same’.  Why?  Apparently, the State of Ireland must be held responsible. Following attacks on these grand houses during the Irish Civil War, they were then taxed up to the hilt and the inhabitants, mostly Anglo-Irish Protestants, left leaving them empty.  Instead of ensuring the houses longevity, the Irish government, in their wisdom, let any which hadn’t already done so, fall down and then encouraged the building of the little white bungalows around the coast.

The central character of Brian Friel’s play, Aristocrats, now playing at The Donmar, is one such country house, Ballybeg Hall in Donegal.  Once the home of siblings, Judith (Eileen Walsh), Alice (Elaine Cassidy), Casimir (David Dawson), Claire (Aisling Loftus) and their parents, it is now only inhabited by Claire, Judith, their father (James Laurenson) and Uncle George (Ciaran McIntyre).  The father, a former judge, lies dying upstairs, Uncle George never speaks and dutiful Judith is at her wits end trying to make ends meet whilst tending to every whim of ‘him upstairs’.  When the play opens, however, the decaying house is fully occupied.  Alice, husband Eamon (Emmet Kirwan) and Casimir have returned in readiness for the old man’s death, whilst Tom Hoffnung (Paul Higgins), an American professor is a temporary guest as he gathers material for his thesis.  

In order to ensure that father’s requests can be heard downstairs, local neighbour Willie Diver (David Ganly) is in the process of installing a speaker to the doorframe. I say door frame, but there is actually no telling where it’s being fixed because, despite the action taking place within the house and its close environs, the stage is bare.  Bare that is except for a suspended doll’s house replicating Ballybeg Hall and an upstage wall that gradually reveals the property in more prosperous times.  Es Devlin hasn’t exactly had her work cut out on this production!

The device used by Lyndsey Turner to ensure we’re aware of where the actors are at any one time, is for the stage directions to be read out loud, thus making a wordy play more so.  Not that this is detrimental to our enjoyment; Brian Friel has a wonderful way with words.  And the actors are, without exception, perfect in their various roles.  Especially so, is David Dawson as the fey Casimir.  With his rapid, jerky movements and ill at ease manner, he evokes pity and amusement.  He calls himself peculiar but Dawson manages to convey that this man is no fool.  Despite his recollections of many, many great artists and writers visiting the house in its heyday being rather skewed (the dates don’t add up) his overwrought behaviour is obviously a product of his upbringing not his intelligence.  One wonders if he is gay.  His obsession with keeping in touch with his German wife and three sons, is unconvincing.

Casimir’s siblings also have a touch of the fantasist.  Elaine Cassidy excels as Alice, the sister far too fond of alcohol and ensconced in what appears to be an unhappy marriage to a man too fond of the odd slap.  But she doesn’t let on to the others.  And then there is the youngest sister, Claire, who spends most of her time playing Chopin on the piano. Sadness is her default button and does she really believe all will be well when she marries her much older suitor?

Not a happy bunch but Aristocrats is not as depressing as it may appear.  The faultless performances, strains of Chopin wafting through the theatre and, of course Friel’s pitch perfect writing make for a very enjoyable evening.  But perhaps it wouldn’t necessarily be the case without the compelling Dawson’s Casimir.