The Plough and the Stars
Abbey Theatre, Dublin
★★★☆☆
This revival of The Plough and the Stars marks the centenary of its debut at the Abbey, in 1926. Seán O’Casey’s tragicomic depiction of tenement life and the Easter Rising is, according to programme notes by the historian Donal Fallon, “perhaps the definitive Abbey play”.
A work that once triggered a riot has, in other words, become part of the cultural furniture. Should we treat it with reverent fidelity or channel the play’s abrasive, convention-defying energy to reimagine the text itself?
Tom Creed’s staging blends a bit of both approaches. The cast performs O’Casey’s vintage Dublinese with familiar, rapid-fire fluency. They are also dressed, for the most part, in period shabby-genteel costumes (designed by Catherine Fay) that convey working-class pride in the face of deprivation.
Rather than an idealistic calling, revolution here offers a form of aesthetic escapism through dressing-up – witness the feathered hat and green brocade tailcoat donned by Michael Glenn Murphy in the role of the would-be Volunteer Peter Flynn (who never goes out to fight).
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Meanwhile, as the shrunken teenager Mollser, Evie May O’Brien captures the harrowing effects of consumption – aided by Tee Elliot’s make-up – with vivid realism.
But this Plough also deviates from naturalistic convention by amplifying the play’s farcical elements. The door repaired by Dan Monaghan’s Fluther at the start will become the site of much comic awkwardness. As Jack and Nora Clitheroe, Eimhin Fitzgerald Doherty and Kate Gilmore are not just unusually demonstrative in their affection. The star-crossed couple end up rolling around on the floor. As the Young Covey, Thommas Kane Byrne invests the jargon-spouting socialist with bumbling physicality. And, in act two, Michael Tient’s Bartender ejects Mary Murray’s Bessie Burgess from the pub by picking her up and carrying her across the stage. All this gentle clowning complements the exuberant poetry of O’Casey’s dialogue.
A more perplexing innovation comes in the form of Jamie Vartan’s set. In act one we are confronted by a wall of rickety-looking plywood spanning the stage. This does not evoke a Dublin tenement so much as the interior of an office block in East Berlin circa 1975. The plywood is then reconstituted into the pub while shedding nothing of its punishing drabness, which seems fundamentally at odds with the boisterous action. Stephen Dodd’s unremittingly harsh and colourless lighting further deadens the visual atmosphere.
In the final act the plywood disappears, to leave the actors marooned on a mostly empty stage. The effect is particularly incongruous given that the action at this point hinges on the panic and confusion of close-quarters combat. Bessie Burgess’s death thereby loses much of its poignancy.
Overall, this Plough features fine performances all around, particularly from Gilmore and Kane Byrne, who both display impressive charisma. But the staging’s intentions are not always clear, and its parts don’t entirely fit together.
This is also the third production to appear at the Abbey within the past decade. Surely it’s time to revisit O’Casey’s lesser-known works, particularly The Silver Tassie, last staged here in 1990.
The Plough and the Stars is at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, until Thursday, April 30th
