THE BEAUTY QUEEN OF LEENANE
THE BEAUTY QUEEN OF LEENANE Wharf 2, STC Education Program (STC Ed), 22 February-13 March 2010. Images by Tracey Schramm.
DRAMA NSW’s website tells teachers that the STC Ed production of Martin McDonagh’s The Beauty Queen of Leenane is “Perfect for HSC Drama and English students, this play promises a good night at the theatre for anyone who has had to deal with an interfering mother.” Which suggests that someone at Drama NSW has a talent for understatement or black humour. The same person might have written that 2009’s superb STC Ed production of The Crucible was “a good night in the theatre for anyone who has had to deal with ditzy schoolgirls.” In both instances it’s a case of “yes, but” – the productions are scintillating and any kid who is lucky enough to see such theatre must surely be turned on to the live stage forever.
McDonagh’s masterpiece of poetry and murderous misery is a glorious piece of writing and character creation. Last staged in Sydney just a year ago in an excellent independent production by Wildfire Theatre, it’s hard to believe that one could actually look forward to seeing it again so soon. It is a tough, bleak and unforgiving portrait of a mother and daughter, rural Ireland in the late 1980s (so socially and economically grim it could be the 1880s) and the cruel twists of fate that so often constitute an existence.
Virtually marooned in the constant rain and isolation of their tumbledown cottage is Mag (Judi Farr), a miserable, manipulative old bitch of a mother whose eldest daughter Maureen (Mandy McElhinney) resents the drudgery of her care responsibilities with a seething rage and toxic humour. Occasional and unwilling visitor from the village at the foot of the mountain is young Ray Dooley (Eamon Farron), a loutish youth on whose chronic unreliability much of the action hinges. Over from England on a visit to his family comes elder brother Pato Dooley (Darren Gilshenan). One evening Pato and Maureen rekindle a flame that had flickered between them before Pato followed the work to London.
Maureen’s glimpse of a future in Pato’s kind eyes fills her mother with fear and fury. Mag has not a scruple to her name when it comes to getting her own way with Maureen. The inexorable slide to tragedy is inevitable but in McDonagh’s hands, each element on the journey is slotted – like pieces of perfectly fitting puzzle – into the whole, making a deep foundation from which the actors can make their characters fly.
The trivial and constant demands of an unimaginative but cunning woman are Mag’s raison d’etre and Judi Farr is breathtakingly appalling and ultimately pitiful as the cruel yet surprisingly weak creature whose life revolves around daytime soaps. Eamon Farron brings an almost endearing, slack-jawed insolence to his frustrated but stupid boy whose hope of escape from ancestral drudgery is slight.
Mandy McElhinney is superb as the tragic Maureen whose grab for a last-chance romance is the broken heart of the play. Opposite her, Darren Gilshenan gives yet another outstanding performance in a solid run of outstanding performances; and the scenes between the two have the lyrical quality of music and dance – pas de deux and duets without music or dance steps. Touching and quite lovely.
Cristabel Sved directs and demonstrates that her success with actors in physically and psychically tight situations (last year’s Dealing With Clair for Griffin for instance) isn’t hit or miss. She has brought with her from that production young designer William Bobbie Stewart and he has created a seedily real, but visually exciting evocation of a slovenly hovel with sentimental pretensions (crucifix, pinups of JFK). The design also incorporates occasional extravagantly shaded side lamps that lighting designer Verity Hampson uses effectively to enhance the melancholy aspect of the illusion of comfort and home. While sound designer Max Lyandvert paints a grim soundscape of rain, Aussie soap snippets and a crushingly boring radio station. And it's another fine job by voice and text coach Charmian Gradwell.
For many, Ireland tends to summon up ideas of picturesque living, merry entertainments and blarney-spouting locals. Martin McDonagh’s Ireland is not that one, but it has a captivating awfulness and honest humanity that is much more attractive than the Guinness and fiddle notion of the place. And this production of his play puts all the elements together with panache and heart. As Drama NSW puts it, it’s a good night at the theatre – for all ages.
