Review - Shining City

A handsome chum and I have lately been two ships that pass in the night - we've been trying to find a show to see together but it just hadn't worked out.  Finally, last Saturday, we went to the newly renovated Irish Rep theater space to see the revival of Conor McPherson's Shining City.  

You may remember that I've seen Shining City before; I saw it during its Broadway run, and I frequently use it as a punch line, such as "...and I still wish someone would explain to me what Shining City was about...".  Here is some of what I said about that production: "I thought the story was interesting.  I thought the actors were good.  I thought the set was nice.  But it didn't add up to a whole lot for me. ... Whereas Shining City just sort of happens.  And then is over.  And you're not left with the fascinating sort of after-theater talk where you just want to dissect the play you've just seen.  You're just left with, 'um, huh?'."  Then, here's a quote from my review of The Seafarer:  "Anyway, The Seafarer is similar [to Shining City] in that it has wonderful acting, excellent scenework, terrific monologues, good storytelling, and yet - what?  What is this play for? Why is it happening? What's it about?  I have no idea."

Those quotes pretty much sum up my response every time I've seen a McPherson play.  I guess I just don't respond to his work and I just don't 'get' him.  OK.  I thought maybe by seeing a revival of one of his plays, by already knowing the story, I'd finally unlock the mystery that keeps us apart. This revival has gotten rave reviews, I generally enjoy Matthew Broderick, and I thought seeing the play in a more intimate setting (I saw the Broadway production from the last row of the balcony), would maybe help with my lack of understanding.

No, not so much.  I just don't get it.  I feel like a dope (though I'm happy to say my handsome chum didn't get it, either), but again, I thought the acting was good (with one enormous exception), the storytelling was good and the set was quite nice.  But it didn't add up to anything for me.  Ah, the mysteries of life.

photo credit: Carol Rosegg

I thought Matthew Broderick was quite good - he has lately gotten a lot of flack for giving the same type of affected performance over and over again.  Here, I thought he did a wonderful job of finding the guilt, shame, but essential humanity of a man who can't cope with the loss of his wife.  But it's not quite the loss of his wife he can't deal with, it's his guilt over the chasm that had come between them before her death.  He is very affecting in his enormous monologue (almost a half hour), though the staging was odd, and he did a good job finding the rueful humor in this ordinary man's sadness.  I enjoyed him very much.  I admit it took me several minutes to get on board with his Dublin accent, but that's ok.  The other actors were all also very good, except for one, who was astoundingly bad, in my opinion, but why name names?  That's not very nice, is it?  And this person got good reviews, too, so who am I to disagree?

photo credit: Carol Rosegg

Anyway.  I can see where the play deals with guilt and shame, leaving your past behind, and maybe how by talking about a problem, you shift the essence of the problem to that other person. OK.  But I still came away with an overwhelming feeling of "so?" after the play was over. It's just probably a mental block for me by now.  I know he's telling a ghost story, but I don't feel the chill.  Maybe I'll get more satisfaction out of reading McPherson plays instead of seeing them performed - I rather like most of the stories that are being told, I just don't see 'why' they're being told onstage. Or something like that.

It was a nice evening out, though.  It was fun to finally hang out with a handsome chum, have a tasty cocktail before the show and an even tastier snack afterwards.  The weather was gorgeous Saturday night, so it was lovely to take a jaunt together around town. Thumbs up for the evening, if not exactly for the production.  I think perhaps it's time to call 'uncle' and give up trying to figure out why I can't relate to a McPherson play.  Things are what they are, I guess.  There are lots of other writers out there for me to enjoy...