Reviewed: Our National Gamesand Walking Away
Our National Games,Axis, Ballymun
AS THE Lisbon Treaty referendum looms, there is a striking contemporaneity to Gerard Humphreys' history play, Our National Games. Exploring the events leading up to the 1970 arms crisis, the soldier-turned- writer presents a cogent vision of the factors that contributed to the political fallout.
The matter of the gun-running itself may have been a purely national issue: a case of a Republic trying to defend those of its citizens who lived under British rule in Northern Ireland.
However, the reasons for the government's abandonment of the Army that it instructed to do its duty were strikingly international: the cold war was raging, communism was seen as a greater threat than civil strife, and Ireland was desperately trying to get accepted into the European Economic Community.
Of course, the corruption that pervaded political power at the time has contemporary resonances too, and Humphreys' play hones in on the scapegoat - Capt James Kelly - who Charles Haughey and Jack Lynch sacrificed for their European ideals, as they let their own country tear itself apart.
However, Humphreys internalises the drama, favouring the personal drama that befalls Kelly's daughter, Orla (an impassioned Céire O'Donoghue), who as a struggling activist and student lawyer is forced to realise the impossibility of her revolutionary ideals.
Yet Humphreys' play fails to negotiate the gulf between the rhetoric of private and public lives, and under Ray Yeates's direction the actors spend much of the time resorting to the authoritarian tone of military speak, draining all capacity for emotional exploration from key characters, including Kelly himself (played by a muted Eamon Hunt) and his ultimate betrayer (an unsteady Simon Keogh).
Historical hindsight gives Humphreys scope for much wry humour, but it also makes for dramatic imbalance and, despite the many grey hues of Robert Ballagh's stage design, the roles of villain and martyr are far too black and white. Our National Games is a compelling account of an historical event, but it is a less than convincing piece of theatre.
Ends today. July 14-16th at Ramelton Town Hall, for the Earagail Arts Festival, Donegal - SARA KEATING
Walking Away, The Granary, Cork
DESPITE THE feeling that one might be run out of town for criticising Walking Away, it has to be said that this piece manages to avoid being theatrical, dramatic or even convincing. Its best feature is the unattributed design, which arranges the acting area as a modest wedding reception and suspends what looks like a hunting knife among the hanging lamps from which Tom O'Donnell's lighting plan flows quickly and efficiently.
Written and directed by Helena Enright as an exercise in documentary theatre, the work is a 55-minute animated lecture on wife-battering. It's not that the subject should not be attempted in a theatre - it has been, and very effectively. The trouble is that the theatre part of the exercise is neglected in favour of the documentary part. The testimony offered in this Amalgamotion presentation dominates not just the auditorium but the foyer and the programme as well.
The very capable cast members sit at tables with the audience and tell stories of walking away from spousal abuse, while a young bride and groom begin their journey to suburban damnation.
To ensure we get the point, a stentorian voiceover punches out statistics as if they were accusations. Which they are, of course.
On national tour. - MARY LELAND
