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Thomas Preece (Padraic in ...Inishmore)
(photo credit: Antonio Starnino) |
By Kate Bligh
(Special to The Charlebois Post)
I first saw The Lieutenant of Inishmore in New York five years ago. I had seen McDonagh’s work before, and thought I knew what to expect. Five minutes into the play, I was laughing and crying at the same time: this piece was darker, funnier, more insightful, and more brutal, than any of his previous offerings. In this very tightly written and apparently simple piece, McDonagh takes a scalpel to the Irish psyche, slicing off the top layers of flesh and smearing the resultant mess all over any sentimental notions of ‘Irishness’ his audience members might have.
I knew from about half-way through the performance that I wanted to direct the play myself, sensing that its preoccupations with identity in so many of its forms – national, gender, and sexual - would have resonances with the unique cultural reference points of Montreal theatre-goers. I also felt that the play would provide an ideal vehicle for some of the young and incredibly talented performers that I work with. Last and not least, it’s a spectacular piece of theatre written in a knowing, virtuoso style, that really lends itself to stage performance, by someone who knows that live theatre can really pack a punch, even at the beginning of the 21st century. How could I not take it on?
