Photo: Manuel Harlan
Writer and director: Conor McPherson
⭐️⭐️⭐️
Taking its title from a poem by WB Yeats, Conor McPherson’s new play is here receiving its world premiere in a production directed by the writer himself. The Brightening Air fills the Old Vic with a distinct scent of Ireland and it feels something like becoming re-acquainted with old friends.
The setting is Sligo on the north-western Irish coast, the time is the 1980s. Stephen (Brian Gleeson) and his sister Billie (Rosie Sheehy) live together in what has always been their family home, a run-down farmhouse. Their wayward, dissolute brother Dermot (Chris O’Dowd) has long since flown the nest and is scornful of his siblings’ inertia. He turns up displaying his new 19-year-old girlfriend Freya (Aisling Kearns) in front of his still doting estranged wife Lydia (Hannah Morrish) and their children.
Into the mix is thrown Uncle Pierre (a show-stealing turn by Seàn McGinley), a former priest who has big ideas for the house of which he claims part ownership by inheritance. From then on, there is minimal plot in an inaction-packed piece that becomes almost entirely character driven. Drawing humour from the characters’ quirkiness, the writer explores how home means different things to different people and how the pursuit of personal goals can impact on others.
The absence of a formal set robs the drams of some of its flavour. Furniture is scattered around an often crowded open stage, against a darkened background, with characters wandering on and off, unhindered by doors. There is no sense of this being a family home and sometimes the action looks static, actors lined up like in a doctor’s waiting room. It is as if McPherson is trying too hard to dodge visual clichés that could have added to the unavoidable ones in his play; his approach has created a production that may have been much better suited to an in-the-round staging.
McPherson and some other contemporary dramatists seem to see Chekhovian themes as linked inexorably to Irish life. Here again we have unrequited passion, unfulfilled potential, yearning to break free and the unstoppable force of change. Characters loathe each other and resent their mutual dependence, filling the comedy-drama with rancour that is fuelled by the writer’s brittle humour. However, is any of this new, particularly in a rural Irish setting? McPherson’s play may promise breaths of fresh air, but it delivers too many gusts of déjà vu.
Notwithstanding these reservations, there is much to savour. McPherson’s writing blends spiky wit with lyrical reflections and the characters are brought to life vividly by uniformly superb performances. We may have seen it all before, but we can feel content to experience it again.
Performance date: 24 April 2025
The Beast's Pen 