“a macabre, funny piece thoughtfully played out in the tiny space that is the Old Fitz.“
Kate Stratford
3.5 vol-au-vents
The Old Fitz
The Lonesome West is part of Martin McDonagh’s Connemara trilogy which includes The Beauty Queen of Leenane and A Skull in Connemara. Like all of McDonagh’s work, it is darkly comic and aches with a despair of life which the characters attempt to work out, unfortunately, through violence.
Two brothers – Valene and Coleman live out their narrow lives and foiled ambitions by remaining locked in adolescent squabbling. They are both foolish and ineffectual. At the encouragement of the suicidal, depressed local priest Father Welsh, they try a truth-and-apology exercise which quickly devolves into yet another murderous battle. Nothing is resolved. Abandon hope, ye who enter the world of Leenane.
As Valene, Andre de Vanny is smug, natural and also a biteen bizarre. He clutches selfishly at his poteen and parades his religiosity most hypocritically. Lee Beckhurst is the snarling, sinister Coleman, without dignity and defeated by the demands of life in Leenane; seeking small gratification in vol-au-vents at wakes. As local priest Father Welsh , Abe Mitchell delivers a man seeped in despair for his irredeemable parish; a harrowing represented well through his delivery and expression if not always in his physicality. Ruby Henaway brings teenage swagger and vulnerability to a girl in love with her local priest. It is fairly usual character fare from McDonagh, needing chemistry from the two leads to play well. De Vanny and Beckhurst have the necessary chemistry to play these two malignant brothers.
The thoroughly realistic set (Kate Beere) of peeling wallpaper, dilapidated furniture and detritus is a home as decayed and destroyed as the brother’s relationship. At one point it transforms to a lake-side and the transition back to the house is the best one of the play. Other transitions are handled by resorting to blackouts which tend to drag at the energy of the show.
Act 1 was a wee shouty. There is a lilting lyricism in this accent (or indeed, in almost any Irish accent!) and when used with vicious language, can deliver another level of humour through juxtaposition of the sweetness of tone and the violence of dialogue. Act 2 explored more variations in pacing, tone and pitch and consequently was more malevolent in feel. The cast have been well coached in accent (Linda Nicholls Gidley), even to the point of being incomprehensible when they shout.
Directed by Anna Houston for Empress Theatre, it is a macabre, funny piece thoughtfully played out in the tiny space that is the Old Fitz. There are clever effects involving Valene’s precious stove and the use of the vomitorium for exits and entrances allows the actors to directly access the audience.
The emptiness of the brothers’ lives raises all sort of questions about family and community. The mother, and any references to her, are ominously absent. The father seems to have done nothing except criticize his sons and yell at nuns. The priest is driven to self-harm and Girleen desperately seeks a decent male connection. The loneliness is pervasive. It leads to a sadness which none of them can share. All most unfortunate, for it is in sadness we connect and show we care; it is how hope survives.
Kate Stratford, Theatre Now
