Meeting point: O’Reilly Theatre, Ulster
Bank Dublin Theatre Festival
Sept 29-Oct 16
My review of
Mark O’Halloran’s Trade coming up just as soon as I wish my dental hygienist was
dead ...
One minute
you’re walking amongst people and traffic on Great Denmark Street, the next
you’re sitting in a tarnished bedroom
in a B&B. A teenage boy sitting on the narrow bed takes a packet of
cigarettes and two condoms from his pocket and leaves them on the bedside
table. The light shining from the bathroom suggests another presence.
Unavoidable is the fear that in the meeting of these two men – one young and
vulnerable, the other bloody and heavy – something abusive and horrible will
occur right before our eyes.
The danger of this
never leaves our minds as O’Halloran’s script bridges the extraordinary
similarities between the two men. On first impression one might say describing
Ciarán McCabe’s minor as a ‘man’ is overreaching but we’re soon corrected. In
being hurt by a broken family in the past he’s now determined to be responsible
for his own daughter, Chloe, even if that drives him to money-making endeavours
such as prostitution. McCabe’s performance is minimalist but somehow that’s how
it clenches its fists. His numbed emotions show little fear, leaving us more
concerned for him than he is for himself. And when he smiles in contemplation
of Chloe and of someday being rich and looking after them both, we are reminded
of the hope and idealism of youth.
Philip Judge’s
older man is a case in point that such idealism can sometimes never manifest. It’s hard
to imagine he ever desired to be at any point in his life a laid-off
dockworker, a closeted homosexual, and a lying husband and father. He’s
astonished that that this rent boy is somehow making his way into his dreams,
is regularly invading his thoughts. Watching him inquire about the young man’s
life is like watching a dialogue between father and son but his disturbing
commands that he remove his clothes remind us of the sordid premise of the
encounter.
Trade hardly allows director Tom Creed
the lyrical quality that swept his more recent work but still he finds it in a
pace which quickens and arrests, speaks and un-speaks. In his staging he charts a crescendo from separation
to contact. Furthermore, production company THISISPOPBABY continue to shake the
rafters of popular culture with the demanding voices of the marginalised.
O’Halloran’s
play, in Judge’s crushingly sincere performance, becomes an unexpected lament for
our social history. We see a man who has hidden his honesty all his life. In
the wake of his father’s death he realises the fear that he’s living a life
where people only know him in pieces, never whole. To be acknowledged is to
receive indifference, and that is all too high a price to pay if the cost is keeping
such great potential for beauty and love locked behind closed doors.
What did
everybody else think?
No comments:
Post a Comment