Review - The Night Alive

I've seen two Conor McPherson plays - Shining City and The Seafarer - and I admit that I haven't previously connected with his work.  But as one of my gorgeous gal pals is faux-married to Ciaran Hinds, alongside a rave from the Times (and nearly every other outlet in town), I was excited to buy a pretty-scarce ticket to The Night Alive.  My gorgeous gal pal and I braved the snowstorm and trudged to Atlantic Theater Company last night, and after the play was over, the lights came up, we looked at each other and said, "And...what was that about?"  CLEARLY I just don't 'get' Conor McPherson.

I've been writing reviews for friends for years, even before I started my blog.  Here are a few lines from my review of Shining City:  "I thought the story was interesting.  I thought the actors were great.  I thought the set was nice.  But it didn't add up to a whole lot for me.... It's odd to say I liked so much of a play, yet didn't really like the play.... Shining City just sort of happens.  And then it's over....and I was left with 'um, huh?'"  And this is what I wrote about The Seafarer:  "...and I still wish someone would tell me what Shining City was about....The Seafarer has wonderful acting, excellent scenework, terrific monologues, good storytelling, and yet--what?"

It's obvious that I just don't have a connection with McPherson or his plays.  I'll say that the rest of the audience seemed to be rapt and hanging on every word, and quite a few people leapt to their feet at the end.  I'm rather sorry I didn't connect like that.  I WAS relatively engaged throughout, I found the actors' work to be wonderfully specific and I did feel escalating tension when I was (I think) supposed to.  I can read all of the rave reviews and think, ok, yeah, I guess I understand what they're saying, but, I just don't know.  I'm not reached.  Maybe I'm overintellectualizing.  Maybe I'm trying too hard.  Maybe I'm expecting too much.  Sigh.  Is.A.Puzzlement.

Photo credit: Helen Warner

Ciaran Hinds is terrific as Tommy, as rather a sad sack who is stuck in life, yet you can sense the goodness and desire for something better inside him.  I didn't see the personal connection between him and Caoilfhionn Dunne as Aimee, the girl he rescues one night.  I think her character is written to be so enigmatic and inscrutable to almost become uninteresting.  No, not uninteresting.  But I just didn't really care about her.  The actress is fine, it's the character that was so unknowable that I didn't want to know her.  Does that make sense?  Does that make me a bad person (or a bad audience member)?  The world may never know.  Michael McElhatton is doing excellent work as Doc, the perhaps mentally disabled partner-in-maybe-but-maybe-not-crime.  His role could easily become a caricature, but he finds the humor and dignity in the role.  He has some gorgeous monologues that come out of left field, and could perhaps be the playwright pounding the play's meaning into my head (and I just wasn't getting it).  And he has excellent chemistry with Hinds - their impromptu dance in the middle of the play was a gem.  Jim Norton is his usual fantastic self as Uncle Maurice - his drunken scene after his wife's memorial service was wonderful and his palpable guilt over her death was moving.  Brian Gleeson brought the menace and evil into the world of the play and I'm still not quite sure why.  I was happy his character met the fate that he met, so I'm guessing the actor did his job well.

Photo credit: Helen Warner

Maybe all McPherson is saying that life is unknowable and that evil lurks everywhere.  OK.  I know that.  But why am I sitting in this theater, seeing this particular story at this particular time?  There is a chance I now have a mental block that will never be overcome.  Believe me when I say I wish I could be transported by his stories, because in retrospect I feel like I could've been.  But in the moment I wasn't.  I'm willing to concede it's just me...