Irish rural life is faithfully realized in the current Princeton production, which has audiences captiavated.
By: Janet Stern
Compelling stories are the essence of drama, and the violent story within a story is the heart of J.M. Synge’s comic masterpiece The Playboy of the Western World, which opened at McCarter’s Berlind Theatre last weekend. Performed by undergraduates in Princeton University’s Program in Theater and Dance and directed by faculty member Tim Vasen, the production begins vigorously and maintains its momentum through all three acts.
Synge’s provocative play, set in rural County Mayo in the West of Ireland, was first performed in 1907 at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin. Before the evening was over a riot broke out, as the largely nationalist audience reacted with hostility to Synge’s representation of Irish peasants enthralled by a stranger’s story of brutal physical violence. The play’s association of the venerable tradition of storytelling with peasant violence was rendered all the more realistically by being rooted in the particulars of rural Irish culture in the weapon used to commit the brutal act, for example, and in the recognizable rural types.
Those same "particulars" of Irish rural life are faithfully realized in the current Princeton production, but this time audience members stayed in their seats. They were captivated by, among other elements, the remarkable set, an elaborate recreation of a shabeen. According to the indispensable glossary included in the program, a shabeen is "a cheap public-house licensed to sell alcohol." Beneath a clouded sky whose subtle changes of color evoke the evening’s passing, the action takes place amid the barrels, baskets, jugs, kettles, basins and buckets that embellish the sizable wood-framed interior, and that convey an authenticity essential to Synge’s purpose.
The story begins as Pegeen (a crafty, sharp and manipulative Bridget Reilly Durkin ’07), daughter of the shabeen’s owner, is lamenting the loss of the brave men of the past. A filthy, frightened stranger named Christy (an appropriately charismatic Tyler Crosby ’09, persuasively conveying his character’s naiveté) arrives in search of shelter. He reveals that he has killed his father by striking his skull with a loy (a spade specifically associated with rural Irish labor). The locals are so fascinated by Christy’s story and the lyrical way he tells it that he is soon extolled as a hero, enchanting the village women.
In barges Christy’s "Da" (played with precise comic timing by Rob Grant ’08), crowned with a bloody bandage but definitely not as Christy had believed dead. Christy’s appeal immediately evaporates, and he is accused of being an imposter. To regain Pegeen’s love, Christy attempts to kill his father again, whereupon he is tied up and nearly hanged.
The reversal in the locals’ attitude to Christy, Synge suggests, is not because his story turns out to be false but because of the nature of the violence itself. Physical violence recounted with traditional Irish panache is beguiling; seeing the violence committed before one’s eyes, however, is repugnant. As Pegeen remarks in her famous rebuke to Christy, "There’s a great gap between a gallous story and a dirty deed."
The bare bones of the plot make the play seem grim, but in fact it becomes increasingly funny especially as the hypocrisy of the community is progressively revealed and Christy puffs up into his playboy persona.
At the start, however at least on opening night it was difficult to hear much of what was said because of the inconsistency of the Irish accents and the stiffness of some of the actors. Audience members had to strain to make sense of whatever words they could discern; moreover, when actors turned away, their voices seemed to fade altogether. These hindrances to comprehension seemed to disappear as the actors loosened up and gained self-assurance. By the second act, even the accents especially those of Christy, Da, and Widow Quin (Irene Lucio ’08) were more convincing.
As the cast of 11 warmed up, they performed the comedic aspects of the plot with confidence. In one of several deliciously humorous scenes, the Widow, Da and Christy (attempting to remain hidden) all circle repeatedly around a tall, wooden counter as the Widow tries to fool Da into thinking that he has not seen Christy in the village.
The comic spirit of the play is enhanced by the hyperactive, almost slapstick staging, in which tables, chairs, barrels, brooms, and lumps of sod are alternately used to protect, hide, threaten and absorb the anger of various characters. (Special recognition should be accorded to set designer Sara Ryung Clement, carpenter Mike McClean and props manager Chris Madison for creating furniture that endures so much abuse during the production.)
This frenzied stage business was no doubt intended by Synge, whose desire for authenticity precluded his separating language from action. Although fun to watch, it was a drawback at the beginning, when the audience was trying to concentrate on the words. Initially, the incessant sweeping of straw on the floor, banging of windows, and knocking about of furniture competed for the audience’s attention or smothered the dialogue altogether. In particular, the volatile Pegeen is so consumed with housekeeping tasks that one begins to wish she would just put down the broom or pail for a minute and finish her conversation.
The naturalism of the setting and lighting (the latter by Jane Cox), as well as the authenticity of the costumes (designed by Chloe Chapin), envelops the audience until it becomes as engrossed in Christy’s story as the characters themselves. Reinforcing this mood is an innovation that should probably be credited to Mr. Vasen: instead of an intermission, the three acts are separated by singing, dancing, and traditional Irish fiddle tunes, true to period and place and played with charm and spirit by fiddler Amy Zakar.
This production of Synge’s 99-year-old play (offered in celebration of the launch of the Leonard L. Milberg Irish Theater Collection at Firestone Library) does indeed keep its audience members in their seats but nevertheless manages to transport them back to rural Ireland. The vehicle is one of Ireland’s pre-eminent plays, and the ride is a joyful one.
The Playboy of the Western World continues on the Berlind stage of McCarter Theatre Center, 91 University Place, Princeton, Nov. 17-18, 8 p.m. Tickets cost $10-$15. For information, call (609) 258-2787 or (609) 258-9220.

