Theater Review: ‘Dancing at Lughnasa’

NEW YORK—Few playwrights can create a sense of atmosphere as vivid as Brian Friel, and few places can present a production as intimately as the Irish Repertory Theatre; these attributes are evident in the absolutely brilliant revival of Friel’s 1990 work Dancing at Lughnasa, billed as the 20th anniversary production of its New York premiere.

In 1936 Ireland, two miles outside the village of Ballybeg, stands the cottage of the five unmarried Mundy sisters. They are Kate (Orlagh Cassidy), the stern, pious schoolteacher; Maggie (Jo Kinsella), the earthy head of the household and unofficial mother to them all; Rose (Aedín Moloney), the plain-speaking one who’s perhaps just a little slow mentally; the pretty and vivacious Agnes (Rachel Pickup); and Chris (Annabel Hägg), the never-wed mother of 7-year-old Michael (Ciarán O’Reilly), on a par with Agnes in terms of beauty.

Chris had her child with Gerry (Kevin Collins), a good-looking fellow who never told the complete truth when a lie would do. The family gets by on Kate’s schoolteacher income and the little money Agnes and Rose make from knitting gloves by hand.

The tale is a sort of memory play where the now-adult Michael looks back at that summer of 1936 and how the family’s world was threatened by change. This was the year they got their first wireless, which let endless hours of music into the home.

It was also the year Father Jack (Michael Countryman), brother to the sisters, returned home after leaving Ireland 25 years earlier to minister to the members of a leper colony in Uganda. The official reason for his return is ill health. However, upon closer examination, one can begin to see he has gone a bit too native with those he has been tending.

The year 1936 was also a time when hints of war had begun to spring up, though far more indistinct in comparison to how they would later become. There is also the matter of automation, which has come to Ireland and may have serious impact on the ladies’ livelihood.

With Dancing at Lughnasa (the title referring to a fall harvest festival), Friel has written a marvelously layered text, so much so that all of the sisters leap off the printed page fully formed, each with their own dreams, desires, and hurts.

From Kate’s perennial fear of scandal and the need to maintain a proper appearance, to Agnes’s case of unrequited love, and Rose’s having a possible fling with a married man, each instance described and situation explored comes off as completely natural, with the audience very quickly enveloped in the tale as it unfolds.

Just as important, Friel has created the sisters’ home as a sort of sanctuary. A place where they can be totally themselves—be it happily gossiping, arguing with one another, or letting go via a wondrous sequence where they dance to the music on the radio, their movements reflecting their different personalities.

Another nice touch is the way the narrator is used. Even though much of what eventually will happen is revealed long before it actually occurs, the setting and characters are so powerful that this knowledge actually serves to add an extra layer of substance to the story as it is being presented.

Casting is excellent, with all of the individuals working together as a wonderfully functioning whole. It’s this interplay that makes the work truly an ensemble piece.

Standouts include Cassidy, striking just the right notes as the ramrod-straight Kate; and Moloney, who is quietly poignant as Rose—a woman with a charming innocence about her and perhaps somewhat ignorant of the outside world.

Also quite good is Hägg who, as Chris, never quite gives up on her dreams, but who has learned to temper them with bitter realism. O’Reilly is a bit jarring when playing a young boy, but fortunately he does this infrequently, working far better as the narrator of the piece.

Charlotte Moore’s direction is strong, carrying the characters from beat to beat and scene to scene with a feeling not so much of tension, but of nostalgia and wonder, as well as effectively bringing out the different bits of whimsy included in the tale.

Antje Ellermann’s set of the Mundy family home offers a warm and homey look. One should pay particular attention to the edges of the scenery, such as the backdrop, which reflects not only Ireland, but also traces of Uganda as the two worlds are brought almost, but not quite together.

Music by Ryan Rumery and Christian Frederickson is excellent.

Dancing at Lughnasa offers a breathtaking trip into a memory of a time long gone, one where the audience is lucky enough to be taken willingly and completely along for the ride.

Dancing at Lughnasa
Irish Repertory Theatre
132 West 22nd Street
Tickets: 212-727-2737 or www.irishrep.org
Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes
Closes: Jan. 15

Judd Hollander is the New York correspondent for the London publication The Stage.