The Irish...
and How They Got That Way

I fell in love with The Irish... and How They Got That Way years ago, and seeing the new revival at the Irish Repertory Theatre, Off-Broadway in New York, only renewed my affections.  It's a deceptively simple, irresistibly charming piece, devised by the late Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Frank McCourt (who wrote Angela's Ashes).  It seems to sum up—in well-chosen words, songs, and occasional bits of dance—everything you need to know about Irish-Americans from about the time of the Great Famine to the present.  It's informative as well as entertaining (McCourt was, after all, a highly skilled teacher as well as storyteller).  It's proven to be one of the most enduringly popular offerings of the Irish Rep, which launched the show in 1997, and has presented it a couple of times since.

The new production, like the earlier editions, is directed by Charlotte Moore. She certainly knows how to keep this sweet/sad piece honest, unassuming, and affecting.  Happily, she's brought back Ciaran Sheehan, a Dublin native who graced the original cast (and can still sing "Danny Boy" just the way it's ideally meant to be sung). She's also brought back Terry Donnelly, a veteran of the Abbey Theatre who wasn't quite in the original cast but was—along with Sheehan—in the successful PBS television presentation of the show.  They inhabit their roles thoroughly.  I like Donnelly's agreeably feisty, no-nonsense spirit; she has backbone, and she reminds me of a slightly younger version of Charlotte Moore (from Moore's well-remembered acting days, before she focused on directing). And Moore has a real find in Dublin-born Gary Troy, my personal favorite in this strong ensemble.  I've never seen him before, but he commands the stage vividly. He is always interesting, whether simply speaking—which he does most engagingly—or singing ("Dixie" and "The Ghost of Molly McGuire"). Kerry Conte rounds out the cast acceptably, without projecting as strongly-etched a character as the others I've named.  Patrick Shields, as a strolling violin player (doubling, occasionally, on mandolin and bodhran), adds just the right piquant touch.

I was a tad disappointed in Music Director Kevin B. Winebold, though; he plays the piano pleasantly, unobtrusively, but the script also calls for him to occasionally serve as an actor, not just musician.  He doesn't have enough stage presence, though, and his stage persona doesn't seem particularly Irish. (He does, however, tap dance well.) It's a tough assignment, and I don't know, offhand, someone else who'd be better suited for the job. The best pianists you'll find aren't usually skillful actors.  The late Rusty Magee, the show's original musical director, left big shoes to fill. (At one point, Winebold has to represent brash, bold George M. Cohan, of all people; I wish one of the other men with more stage presence had been given that honor.) These are minor weaknesses in a show with many strengths. Barry McNabb's choreography, incidentally, is delightful—and utterly on target in the Cohan bits.  And the simple, effective set and evocative projections that designer Shawn Lewis has brought us, are perfect for this production.

(Pictured: Gary Troy, Kerry Conte, Terry Donnelly, and Ciaran Sheehan. Photo by Carol Rosegg)

Chip Deffaa
Cabaret Scenes
July 23, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org