THE FREEDOM OF THE CITY. To 23 December.
London
THE FREEDOM OF THE CITY
by Brian Friel
Finborough Theatre 118 Finborough Road SW10 To 23 December 2005
Tue-Sat 7.30pm Sun 3.30pm
Runs 2hr 15 min One interval
TICKETS: 0870 4000 838
www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 4 December
A play well-worth reviving.
Brian Friel’s mother came from Donegal in the Irish Republic, his father from (London)Derry in Northern Ireland and young Friel knew both places. Though it’s the fictional Donegal town of Ballybeg where his plays are mostly located, it’s no surprise that Derry’s ‘Bloody Sunday’ shootings of 30 January 1972 should provoke this play, premiered at Dublin’s Abbey Theatre the following year.
The slow accumulation of situation, or use of memory, the melancholic reflectiveness of so much Friel is replaced by speedy upfront montage. A ballad, news reports, a lecturer on poverty. the opening of an official inquiry, dead bodies dragged around, marchers escaping gas, all crash into the opening minutes.
But Friel characteristics emerge. Three protesters find themselves in Derry’s Guildhall, its walls covered in the regalia of British domination. There’s youthful idealist Michael, the older (43) Lily, attention ever switching but always practically-focused, and Skinner, the angry, disruptive yet keen-minded joker. Against fear at merely being Catholics in this hall of Protestant power, Skinner sets up a running mockery leading to destruction.
Their fate’s already apparent from the scenes set around the Guildhall, especially moments from the post-protest Inquiry. Gradually two pictures emerge: the state-constructed, media-disseminated images and motives, and the messier, spontaneous combustion of 3 figures caught by chance together.
Friel’s characteristically fateful irony shows in the parallel development of these contrasting ‘histories’ of events. Matthew Parrish’s Balladeer sings events into mythology with the conviction of folk-song’s slow timelessness, while Graham Bowe’s Catholic priest gives chattily forceful orations that turn the trio into national martyrs or Communist stooges. Newsmen and the army foist interpretations onto events; academia steps in too.
Vicky Jones marshals all this with economy and skill on the Finborough’s small stage, the public platform placed at the side, while John Hart Dyke’s authoritative looking, and sounding, Judge looms over all the events. Claire Cogan’s Lily is a force of unreflective life, good-hearted and enjoying the whole party, while there’s a striking contrast between Nick Lee’s earnest Mike, keen to build a better society, and Richard Flood’s ever-mobile, anarchic Skinner.
Balladeer: Matthew Parish
Photographer/Soldier/Army Press Officer/Professor Cuppley: Hugo Cox
Priest/Press Man 2: Graham Bowe
Soldier/Press Man 1/Brigadier/Dr Winbourne: John Cooper-Day
Michael: Nick Lee
Lily: Claire Cogan
Skinner: Richard Flood
Policeman/Liam O’ Kelly: Patrick Myles
Judge: John Hart Dyke
Dr Dodds: Matthew Hendrickson
Director: Vicky Jones
Designer: Anna Jones
Lighting: Stuart Crohill
Sound: Tshari King
Costume: Neil Knudsen
2005-12-10 10:53:06