Reviewed: Twelve Angry Men, Aspell, NYOI/Grant and The Worthless Soldier
Twelve Angry Men at the Everyman Palace, Cork
Although written in the dreary 1950s Twelve Angry Men retains immediacy. A jury of ordinary people has to decide the guilt or innocence of a teenage hoodlum charged with murder. Thanks to stage, TV and film versions Reginald Rose's skilful plot is almost as well known as that of Macbeth; the achievement of Marion Wyatt's direction for Skylight Productions is that tension is sustained, the outcome still awaited as if unsuspected.
Much of the credit has to go to Reginald Rose himself in that he provides roles of intermittent prominence - the characters flare briefly into life and can subside again, although remaining true to what has been established of their personalities and prejudices. Their individualisation seems casual but is crucial to the tension of a play in which the action consists of long passages of supposition, argument and counter-argument.
Although this presentation seems a little lethargic at first, it gathers pace and conviction as it develops. Confined to a cramped and dingy jury room on a hot night, the men are like a little orchestra, skilfully if weightily conducted by Alf McCarthy's Juror number eight, with the passionate counterpoint coming from Hugh Moynihan. Something better might have been managed with the arrangement of the table and chairs (although as the group breaks up the sight-lines improve), and as a group the cast might have taken a little more ownership of their roles. But they treat the play honestly and with respect. The result is a salutary reminder of how lazily opinions are formed, how readily the easiest explanation is accepted and how little has changed since 1957, with the death sentence, racial intolerance and a kind of domestic xenophobia all still flourishing. Until July 22 - Mary Leland
Aspell, NYOI/Grant at the NCH, Dublin Beethoven - Egmont Overture. Walton - Viola Concerto. Mahler - Symphony No 1
This was an ambitious and successful programme to conclude the summer session of the National Youth Orchestra of Ireland (under 18s). Each piece showed off the strengths of the current cohort, as though conductor Gearóid Grant had foreseen those strengths when choosing the programme months ago. He couldn't have, of course, so that it was more musical serendipity that saw this concert showcasing - above all - a bright, cohesive group of very accomplished string players. From the start they brought weight to the tragic element of Beethoven's Goethe-inspired Egmont Overture and then took flight in its high-speed coda.
It was also the notably mature quality of the string-playing that established the rich, brooding atmosphere at the opening of Walton's 1929 Viola Concerto, an important but rarely played piece. Here also, and matching the strings for tone quality and blend, were the fine trombone section in their chordal accompaniment to one of the viola's themes. The trombones were part of a strong and polished brass section that later featured the trumpets nimbly mixing the military and the macabre in Mahler's Symphony No 1.
It was good to see the spotlight on Cork-based Simon Aspell - viola-player with RTÉ Vanbrugh Quartet. He brought out the depth and intimacy of the viola's solo voice in the outer movements as well as its lesser-known vivacity in the central Scherzo. Grant always ensured a sensitive partnership to the soloist. It proved difficult to sustain momentum through the various contrasting sections of the monumental finale to Mahler's First Symphony, but his direction drew characterful, expressive playing and a thrilling climax.
It's sobering to reflect on how these talented and musically developed players are virtually all drawn from a privileged subsection of Irish youth whose parents can support them with time and financing. Thousands more equally musical children enjoy no such advantages. Until there is real and meaningful music education for every child in this state, youth orchestras of this calibre will remain a source of pleasure and inspiration that is unduly rare. - Michael Dungan
The Worthless Soldier at Liberty Hall, Dublin
This collaboration between the Derry Playhouse and the Irish Government has been conceived and funded toward an almost forgotten political aim. Telling the story of Private Bernard McGeehan, a Northern Irish soldier who fought at the battle of the Somme and was court-martialled and executed for desertion, it intends to provide a dramatic reminder for an ongoing campaign to exonerate Irish soldiers executed during the first World War.
Unlike many companies in receipt of government contracts, Derry Playhouse has met its deadline - this production falls shortly after the 90th anniversary of the Somme. Sadly though, in terms of dramatic impact, it is about as efficient as the Dublin port tunnel or electronic voting.
Reconstructed from the military records of McGeehan's 1916 court-martial, Sam Starrett's play finds the hapless soldier, sympathetically played by Darren Grier, explaining how he became detached from his unit and how he "dodged" any military police he encountered, finally reaching the Montreuil base, starving and exhausted.
War does terrible things to a man, and in James Lecky's production it does even worse things to his accent, particularly in the case of the English top brass, a cockney sergeant or a Welsh officer. This shaky naturalism wouldn't matter so much were it not for the fact that Starrett's play sticks close to historical record at the cost of human interest.
The production is unable to restore the balance: we learn that McGeehan, a horse-loving pacifist who was bullied by his battalion, was "inclined to be stupid". But Grier, who performs the role as an upstanding martyr, seems reluctant to play dumb. Lecky, meanwhile, has his cast face forward at all times, in a directorial style favoured by leaden didactic drama and school nativity plays.
This robs the play of emotional effect, while an absurdly late attempt to breathe life into McGeehan occurs only when any hope is lost. By that point, it's all over bar the shooting and our sympathies for the characters have gone AWOL. At best, one might conclude that war is futile. At worst, one might begin rooting for the firing squad. Ends tomorrow - Peter Crawley
