Aisling (Brenda Meaney, left) has written a play to be performed by the Irishtown Players, which includes her girlfriend Síofra (Saoirse-Monica Jackson, right) and Constance (Kate Burton, background), in Ciara Elizabeth Smyth’s comedy Irishtown at the Irish Repertory Theatre.
There have been many memorable productions at the Irish Rep over the years—of Beckett, Synge, Friel, O’Casey, McPherson, and more—but with Ciara Elizabeth Smyth’s Irishtown, it’s clear that the venerable nonprofit theater has a robust and self-deprecating sense of humor, able to laugh about the dominant tropes of Irish drama and the innumerable depictions of trauma and strife. Smyth’s play, developed under the theater’s New Play Development initiative and directed by Nicola Murphy Dubey, who leads that initiative, is a departure from its typical fare: a funny, satirical exploration of Irish theater, stories, and cultural identity.
Constance participates in a table read with Quin (Kevin Oliver Lynch), another actor.
The title refers to the Dublin-based Irishtown Players, who have a new play, courtesy of playwright Aisling (Brenda Meaney): it’s a legal drama about sexual assault in the workplace. Aisling’s first play, The Happy Leper of Larne, the poster of which hangs on the wall of the somewhat shabby rehearsal room (set design by Colm McNally), was a success, and in a mere four weeks the company will be traveling to debut the new work, amusingly titled Who Are We If We Are Not Ourselves At All, on Broadway in New York.
After the first table reading, all seems well, even if the highly strung Aisling doesn’t quite believe the passive-aggressive compliments of the small ensemble. There is Constance (Kate Burton), a veteran actor high in self-regard even if she hasn’t achieved the level of fame she feels she deserves; Síofra (Saoirse-Monica Jackson), the playwright’s girlfriend, a seeming ingenue who has won the Best Newcomer award twice, 10 years apart, and who tries to hide her intelligence; and Quin (Kevin Oliver Lynch), a know-it-all who might not be quite as perceptive as he thinks.
The English director, Poppy (Angela Reed), is formerly of the Royal Shakespeare Company, and her immediate and inappropriate targeting of Síofra romantically is a not-so-subtle hint as to why she is no longer with the RSC. Things begin to deteriorate, at first slowly, and then spectacularly. Foremost is the question of why Aisling’s play takes place in England. For one thing, “The yanks love Irish accents”—though, as Smyth demonstrates, an Irish accent can mean many different things, as heard when Quin disastrously tries a Derry accent (Barbara Rubin is the dialect consultant). For another, Constance and Quin are shocked that any play attempting to be authentically Irish can end on an upbeat note:
The director Poppy (Angela Reed) formerly worked at the Royal Shakespeare Company, but is now disgraced.
Constance: I’ve just never been in an Irish play with a happy ending.
Quin: Me neither. I can’t even name one. … Should we not be giving the Irish Americans something to identify with?
Constance: But the themes are universal. This is about someone in pain, isn’t it?
Quin: I suppose. And the Irish feel pain.
Constance: Absolutely, the Irish are in constant pain. Consider our history.
Quin: The Catholic Church.
Constance: The Famine.
Quin: The Civil War.
Constance: The Laundries.
Quin: The Troubles.
Constance: De Valera.
Quin: Partition.
Constance: Abuse.
Quin: The Brits.
Constance: The Brits.
Eventually Aisling storms off and withdraws permission to use her play—the problems are the actors questioning everything, but also Poppy doing euphemistic weekend “character work” with Síofra. With two weeks until New York, the cast decides to collaboratively devise a quintessentially Irish play. “How hard could it be?” Constance wonders.
Constance, Quin, and Síofra brainstorm “Irish” themes (incest, alcoholism, peasants, dead babies), raid the wardrobe room (the costumes are by Orla Long), and then improvise scenes, as Poppy, having fully lost her grip, looks on in horror. A send-up of Beckett, complete with Quin enclosed in an urn, is particularly on point, especially as such a piece, Play, just ran on the Irish Rep stage as part of its Beckett Briefs. The ensemble finally decides on interrelated monologues, but each performer inadvertently brings his or her monologue around to sexual abuse, and thus too close to Aisling’s play.
The actors decide to devise their own Irish play when the playwright backs out. Photographs by Carol Rosegg.
Some of Irishtown’s humor can be more blunt than sharp, and some conceits don’t work as well as others, but Dubey’s brisk direction and the fully committed cast paper over any minor hiccups. In particular, Burton’s performance as the imperious Constance, the big fish in the small loch, is a comic triumph.
Those who have witnessed the Irish Rep’s excellent productions of Irish classics over the years should especially enjoy the humor of Irishtown, which sends up those jewels lovingly and smartly. And if one wants to see an Irish play with a happy ending, Irishtown delivers, though with a healthy dose of irony.
Irishtown runs through May 25 at the Irish Repertory Theatre (132 W. 22nd St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday; matinees are at 2 p.m. Wednesday and Saturday and at 3 p.m. Sunday. Tickets are available by visiting irishrep.org.
Playwright: Ciara Elizabeth Smyth
Director: Nicola Murphy Dubey
Scenic & Lighting Design: Colm McNally
Costume Design: Orla Long
Sound Design: Caroline Eng
