The Globe and Mail, January 14, 2005
When Irish eyes aren't smiling
By: Kamal Al-Solaylee
The Canadian premiere of Tom Murphy's A Whistle in the Dark comes 44 years after the play, by one of Ireland's most revered writers, was first performed in England. That's a long time to wait for this disturbing look at an always-ready-to-rumble Irish family that bubbles with male violence and disillusionment. But perhaps it's taken that long for Toronto, a city that has lost its innocence and its safety record, to catch up with the play.
Tomorrow's opening night marks the official launch of the Company Theatre, a new venture started up by actors Allan Hawco, Philip Riccio and producers Monica Esteves and Diane Mugford. The choice of an Irish play to usher in their (one hopes) generic-in-name-only company emphasizes the group's commitment to international collaboration and co-productions, particularly of contemporary and topical classics.
"From what I understand the play created a bit of a storm in 1961; it was deemed very harsh and visceral," said Irish director Jason Byrne over the telephone at the end of another long day of rehearsals. Byrne was flown in from Dublin to direct at the recommendation of Abbey Theatre's Ben Barnes, who directed Soulpepper's production of Brian Friel's Translations last summer -- where he's currently the artistic director of his own company, Loose Canon Theatre.
Friel and Murphy are frequently cited as the two dominant figures of postwar Irish drama, but they have experienced very different reactions to their plays on the world stage. As the belated premiere of A Whistle in the Dark in a city that loves its Irish drama proves, Murphy remains a critically admired but relatively under-produced playwright. "My theory is that Friel's plays don't show the Irish community abroad in as bad a light as [Murphy's]," says Byrne.
How bad? How about a family where the patriarch relishes the rhythmic violence of a good pub fight between his sons and just about anybody who gets in their way: other Irish immigrants in Coventry, England, where the play is set, or any number of black or Muslim immigrants. Although Byrne initially describes Murphy's world as "unforgiving," he's quick to point out the inherent contradiction in such a term: "He writes with an incredible compassion for his characters."
On one level, Murphy proposes violence as a new ritual for a secular age. On another, most of the violence takes place offstage, but Murphy's inherent sense of theatricality and his understanding of the many paradoxes of modern Ireland ensure that a sense of menace lingers throughout the play.
But it's Murphy as a "writer of action" that fascinates Byrne. Since rehearsals began in late December, there's been less roundtable discussion and more on-the-floor exploration of this physically and spiritually restless world. The large, bankable cast -- which includes Hawco, Riccio, Joseph Ziegler, David Jansen, Jonathan Goad, Oliver Becker, Sarah Dodd and Aaron Poole -- have shown their stamina and, adds Byrne, "surpassed themselves in terms of commitment to the work."
With Byrne in charge we can at least expect to be spared the affected accents that have marred many Irish plays on our stages. "This production is about the intentions, feelings, impulses, the physical life of the performances. That's what I'm trying to recreate," Byrne explains.
"I'm trying to facilitate a series of controlled explosions every night. They occur in and around the same point but the shrapnel falls differently -- if that's not too strange a metaphor."