Tag Archives: Joseph McCarthy

THE BRIGHTENING AIR

★★★★

Old Vic

THE BRIGHTENING AIR

Old Vic

★★★★

“a rich and entertaining family drama”

“How are you doing?”, a priest asks jittery Dermot (Chris O’Dowd) midway through this fine new play. “I’m fine”, replies deadpan Dermot, although “the circumstances around me are challenging”.

Dermot is not alone in his plight. In the ramshackle Irish farmhouse that is the setting for Conor McPherson’s eagerly anticipated Chekhov adjacent play, the circumstances would test the most placid of souls.

The future of the farmhouse brings the family together as uneasily as opposing magnets. Three siblings own the place. Two live there and the third – Dermot amid a midlife crisis – has returned from afar thinking there’s money to be made.

He has an ally in a blind renegade priest (Seán McGinley) – their uncle – but finds himself in opposition to his brother Stephen (Brian Gleeson) and sister Billie (Rosie Sheehy) who have made the place their home, combatting the damp, fighting off foxes and shuffling cows with a mindless resilience.

Like the mouldering walls, the family tensions have been left to fester so there’s more than a reckoning about property deeds in McPherson’s atmospheric and busy play.

Elsewhere Lydia (Hannah Morrish) wants a magic potion – “water with muck in” – to win back faithless Dermot’s love, but Dermot, railing impotently against the strictures of family, has found himself beguiled by 19-year-old minx Freya (Aisling Kearns) who turns up with an air of entitlement and her own little plots to pursue.

Billie, accident-prone and on the autistic spectrum, obsesses about trains, paint and chimpanzees. She also speaks in unvarnished and abrasive truths which is a useful means to bring simmering tensions to the boil. Stephen is angry – about having to look after Billie, but also having no life, no money, no love…

Writer-director McPherson says he conceived the 1980s-set drama in an airport after he was thwarted by Covid from seeing his own adaptation of Uncle Vanya. But knowledge of Chekhov is less use than an ear for Irish dialect and an ability to keep up with the scores yet to be settled.

The title, McPherson says, comes from a WB Yeats poem, The Song of Wandering Aengus, and “encapsulates that moment where dreams meet reality, and our most important illusions fade away”.

The ensemble cast fully embraces the opportunities presented by a phenomenal script, littered with miracles, mysticism and mischief. O’Dowd is a marvel, wiry and self-pitying. He brings his immense comedic presence to a play that is very, very funny. Rosie Sheehy is by turns blunt and lyrical, even her recitations of train routes hinting at romance and adventure. Morrish and Gleeson are the stoic heartbeat of the piece.

The first acts are all about slow-burn set-up against Rae Smith’s barren farmhouse backdrop. Which means the post-interval plot twists are something of a hurried cascade. Even in a play which relies on a hint of folkloric magic, the dramas happen unfeasibly fast, relying on an overworked denouement to create a sense of theme and purpose.

Pacing aside, this is a rich and entertaining family drama, delighting in the divisions that uniquely arise from semi-strangers who are bound together by the same blood and forebears.



THE BRIGHTENING AIR

Old Vic

Reviewed on 24th April 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 


 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

A CHRISTMAS CAROL | ★★★★★ | November 2024
THE REAL THING | ★★★★ | September 2024
MACHINAL | ★★★★ | April 2024
JUST FOR ONE DAY | ★★★★ | February 2024
A CHRISTMAS CAROL | ★★★★★ | November 2023
PYGMALION | ★★★★ | September 2023

 

 

THE BRIGHTENING AIR

THE BRIGHTENING AIR

THE BRIGHTENING AIR

Eigengrau – 1 Star

Eigengrau

Eigengrau

Greenwich Theatre

Reviewed – 1st August 2018

“time has not been kind to Penelope Skinner’s slight four-hander”

 

Four young people in two flat shares in London: Cassie, a committed feminist activist, shares with Rose, a sweet hippy-dippy type; Mark, doing well in the marketing world, shares with his old University buddy Tim, who’s a bit of a waster. At the play’s opening, Mark wakes up in the girls’ flat after a night with Rose, and encounters Cassie, who is almost immediately triggered into launching into an angry feminist tirade at him, which, who would have guessed it, gets Mark going something rotten, and, he eventually manages to seduce her, using exactly the same tactics he used on the unfortunate Rose. What a snake, hey? At the play’s close, Mark ends up alone, Cassie experiencing her womanhood in an entirely new way, and Rose pretty much entirely dependent on the hapless Tim, who has finally managed to let go, both literally and figuratively, of his dead Grandma.

If this sounds pedestrian and predictable, it’s because it is. Time has not been kind to Penelope Skinner’s slight four-hander, and its handling of gender politics seems unbelievably clumsy and cliché-ridden in 2018. A lot has happened in eight years. That being said, a prickly feminist who likes to be dominated in bed was satirical stock-in-trade in the 70s – which makes the decision to revive this piece now all the more difficult to understand.

Although the writing is decidedly creaky, the dialogue is nonetheless sprinkled with whippy one-liners, and there are a couple of big theatrical moments to play with. Sadly, neither the acting nor the direction in this production was good enough to take advantage of these strengths. The direction was as pedestrian as the plot, and as a result the piece lacked both colour and drive. Why, oh why, were both the big moments visually masked? One by a strobe; the other by a barely lit stage? Penelope Skinner wrote the fellatio scene in to her play for a reason. It is the audience who should be squirming here; not the director.

Joseph McCarthy managed to lift Mark off the page, but the other characters remained resolutely one note and failed to breathe beyond the boundaries of their stereotype. Seldom has there been such unconvincing smoking on stage, or a more laughable slap in the face. And there was certainly nothing erotic about the central seduction scene. In addition, the intrusive and badly-managed sound design only underlined the production’s overall lack of atmosphere.

Eigengrau is ‘the uniform dark grey background that many people report seeing in the absence of light’. It is a strange title for a piece of theatre, but, in this particular case, peculiarly apt.

 

Reviewed by Rebecca Crankshaw

Photography by Victorine Pontillon

 


Eigengrau

Greenwich Theatre until 11th August

 

 

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