I wasn't sure what to expect of J. M. Synge's Irish comedy,
The Playboy of the Western World. Except obviously I was hoping for something good, and the Old Vic's track record made that pretty likely.
I won't give away too much plot, but the basis of the play, first performed in 1907, is as follows. A young man arrives in a village and reveals that he has murdered his father. The locals don't react in quite the way one might expect, and farcical uproar ensues.
Apparently some audience members among the first Dublin audience hissed, booed and in some cases had to be assisted off the premises by Abbey Theatre founder WB Yeats – whether for political reasons or due to offense at the mention of a woman's undergarments is unclear. While watching I couldn't help being distracted by wondering how topical the play was when first performed, and how original audiences would have responded to bits that were probably going straight over my head – and most of those in the rows behind me.
But historical ponderings aside, mostly the onstage action was sufficient in itself to hold my attention. A lot of it is laugh-out-loud funny, with plenty of physical comedy, character-based humour, and more than a little poking of fun at traditional Irish stereotypes – suffice to say the entire play is set in a pub.
Each half starts with the secondary characters blasting out a hearty song, sounding centuries old but actually composed for the occasion by Philip Chevron, best known for his time in The Pogues. This gets the audience onside immediately, and the following scenes live up to the same energy and mischievous mirth.
The main roles – Robert Sheehan as the unlikely hero, Ruth Negga as the landlord's daughter, Niamh Cusack as a wily and seductive widow – are all very strong, as are the supporting cast. The set is also impressive, and a lot of the time I had that 'kid in a sweetshop' feeling of wanting to look everywhere at once, and not miss any detail of what was unfolding.
All in all, definitely worth a trip – but then, if I could afford it I'd see everything the Old Vic produces.
