THE SHADOW OF A GUNMAN. To 6 November.

London

THE SHADOW OF A GUNMAN
by Sean O' Casey

Tricycle Theatre To 6 November 2004
Mon-Sat 8pm Mat Sat 4pm & 13, 20 Oct 2pm
Runs 1hr 50min One interval

TICKETS: 020 7328 1000
www.tricycle.co.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 5 October

Comic depiction of the land of saints, sinners and the on-stage chamber-pot.Set in 1920 Dublin, Sean O' Casey's first success shows Black and Tans violently suppressing the voice of Irish freedom. Though there's little heroic in that voice, especially given the satirical push in Dominic Dromgoole's revival, which begins with Romantic music bursting forth as a stream of water descends. But it's a leaking roof with a bucket catching the rain, while the music reflects Shelley-quoting poet Donal Davoren's detachment from reality around.

Dromgoole's approach creates fine comic scenes through most of the action. From Tommy Owens (Nick Danan standing to attention with puffed-out chest) claiming he only awaits the IRA's call, to the loyalist Grigson, his bellicose religiosity mouthed on whiskey-breath, people parade their credentials before Donal's aesthetic arrogance, assuming such a man must be a disguised Republican volunteer. Aidan McArdle's neutral manner shows no response except when Minnie Powell (Jane Murphy risking eventual pathos with a purposive manner from the start) offers physical admiration to this supposed man of action.

Donal may only be a shadow of the gunman people suppose, but the production makes clear it's only shadows these tenement dwellers want (Michael Taylor's set with its rickety roof supports and hanging washing makes the social poverty clear). Donal's supposed identity brings a sense of self-importance to those around. As room-mate Seumas says, people enjoy talk of guns when there are none around. Their nocturnal conversation, huddled against cold light through dirty windows, is as close to truth as they come, helped by Frank McCusker's smilingly realistic, unambitious Shields.

O' Casey knew, whatever the pretensions (of males especially), there was suffering and death in this working-class Dublin air, particularly for women who try holding life together. When Minnie takes the bag of bombs which has stood prominently on the stage edge, she may retain her dream-image of Donal, but she's also being practical.

We see her carried roughly away by the Black and Tans. Yet it's strangely unaffecting, as if the puncturing of pretensions that's gone before leaves no room for sympathy. O' Casey's moving end, clinching the earlier humour in its tragic grip, is the downside of Dromgoole's production.

Donal Davoren: Aidan McArdle
Seumas Shields: Frank McCusker
Mr Maguire: Paul Lloyd
Mr Mulligan: Michael O' Hagan
Minnie Powell: Jane Murphy
Tommy Owens: Nick Danan
Mrs Henderson: Maggie McCarthy
Mr Gallogher/An Auxiliary: John Dougall
Mrs Grigson: Marion O' Dwyer
Adolphus Grigson: Patrick Brennan

Director: Dominic Dromgoole
Designer: Michael Taylor
Lighting: Mark Doubleday
Sound: Mike Winship

2004-10-06 08:42:34