Reviews of Twelfth Night, The Biggest Adventure in the World, and Josh Ritter.
Twelfth Night, Pavilion, Dun Laoghaire:
Classic Stage Ireland is currently offering the third in a cycle of three Shakespearean comedies, and the production (now on tour) is well up to established standards.
It is at the very least enjoyable, preferring fun to reverence, and if purists may balk a little at some sporadic indulgences, only extreme pedants could fail to revel in the general brio and excellence of performances.
That said, this mild pedant found the opening music, to the strain of That's Amore, not to my taste, and the later injection of lively music from Carmen, a distraction. And, just to be done with the quibbling, occasional lapses into near-inaudibility should really not be allowed, depriving some golden words of their authority.
The minimal set by Anne Marie Woods is less than atmospheric, but serves the action well.
But the play's the thing, of course, and the arrival of the shipwrecked Viola in Illyria sets it merrily on its way. Disguised as a youth and renamed Cesario, she is commissioned by Count Orsino to woo the Lady Olivia on his behalf.
She falls for Orsino, Olivia falls for her and the emotional cat's cradle persists until the arrival of Viola's twin Sebastian, who also survived the wreck, and the love-afflicted quartet sort themselves out.
This is all quite beautifully done, with an outstanding Viola from Judith Roddy, born for the role. Stephen Kelly is an effective twin, and Hope Brown (Orsino) and Elaine O'Dea (Olivia) support them well. The parallel undoing of Malvolio (Liam Hourican) by Sir Toby Belch (Séamus Moran) and Sir Andrew Aguecheek (Thomas Farrell) is a comic coup with a bitter aftertaste. Feste the clown (Simon Boyle) infiltrates the action persuasively.
Andy Hines again directs his cast with manifest authority. - Gerry Colgan.
Mermaid Arts Centre, Bray, March 14th-18th; Civic Theatre, Tallaght, March 20th-25th; and Samuel Beckett Theatre, March 27th-April 1st.
The Biggest Adventure in the World
Cork Opera House
The sheer excitement of staging - lights, more lights and action - should be enough to engage schoolchildren between eight and 12 attending Barnstorm's new play The Biggest Adventure in the World.
Written by Shaun Prendergast, this piece tells of young Jonty's adventures when he defies his parents and climbs over the garden wall to play with "rough" children.
Although the playwright hides the gap between fact and fantasy and uses extensive back-stories to provide more drama, this apparently complicated plotting device doesn't bother a young, attentive audience. Their immediate recognition of a link between the very first lines and almost the very last is a reminder that children must never be under-estimated.
Barnstorm's team engage fully in a production, directed by Philip Hardy, which offers plenty of activity, pace, scene-change and character but which remains somehow top-heavy with "educational" relevance. It's also a little careless of detail, as in the extremely rapid decomposition of a dead kitten to a clean skull. This exhumation is a somewhat puzzling reference to Jonty's Frequently Asked Question: "What happens when you die?"
The detailed teachers' pack which accompanies the production reflects the kind of moral pretension common to educationally worthy material.
And it is very strange indeed to find both play and pack ignoring the two most obvious imaginative references in the piece: the cat's name as Captain Flint comes from Arthur Ransom's famous books for children, and the title itself echoes the comment ("to die will be an awfully big adventure") from JM Barrie's Peter Pan. - Mary Leland
Josh Ritter
Christ Church cathedral, Dublin
When Idaho's Josh Ritter first played in Ireland five years ago, he was a somewhat shy performer with a collection of simple, sweet folk songs that instantly won over audiences. In the intervening years, he has become a confident, charming showman, and one of this country's best-loved singer-songwriters.
This entrancing concert in Christ Church cathedral was a special performance to mark the launch of Ritter's superb new album, The Animal Years. In front of the choir screen, with lights low and a smoke machine adding incense-style atmospherics, Ritter and his band played all of the new release, as well as favourites from earlier albums Golden Age of Radio and Hello Starling. The simple, elegant songs felt perfectly at home in the medieval surroundings, with Ritter's vocals (more reminiscent of a young Springsteen than ever), his gently strummed guitar and Sam Kassirer's sparse piano well-suited to Christ Church's acoustics.
The surroundings also had an effect on the rapt audience. There was none of the usual low-level chatter that accompanies most gigs; instead, there was an appreciative silence from the congregation, with a hint of worship thrown in. Spotlights illuminated the vaulted ceilings and walls with dreamy patterns and mirrorball effects, and when the cathedral was plunged into total darkness for Wings, the effect was hypnotic.
Between songs, Ritter made light of his widely reported collapse during a performance in Letterkenny a few days earlier and cemented the special relationship he so easily forms with audiences here. "Very few people get to live out their dreams like this," he said, "we'll never forget this."
Snow is Gone and Kathleen upped the tempo, as Ritter admitted: "We were trying to keep it low because of the ceilings and everything, but that went right out the window." But it was a new song, the urgent and compelling Thin Blue Flame, that proved the highlight of the concert. - Davin O'Dwyer
