The Cripple of Inishmaan

Martin McDonagh may be the most exciting playwright of his generation. I have had read some of this plays (The Leenane Trilogy) but hadn't had the opportunity to see one until this past weekend, when I saw The Cripple of Inishmaan, under the direction of Garry Hynes, at the Atlantic Theater Company.

McDonagh has already made it to the movies--he wrote and directed In Bruges, but however big he makes it in Hollywood there probably never be the immediate thrill of seeing one of his plays. The Cripple of Inishmaan, which is part of another trilogy, each one set on one of the three Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland, used the Hollywood mystique as one of its themes. Set in 1934, it concerns the period of time when documentarian Robert Flaherty films his famous film Man of Aran on nearby Inishmore.

This arrival means different things for the characters in the play. The main focus is on Billy, or Cripple Billy as he is known, a young man with an affliction that appears to be cerebral palsy. Billy is raised by two "aunties," because his parents drowned under mysterious circumstances shortly after his birth. Billy is loved sort of like a pet, as he isn't afforded too much respect. The aunties, who run a general store, feel sorry for him, and decide that even the town slut, who would kiss a bald donkey, would draw the line at Billy.

Other characters in the play are the island's gossip, JohnnyPateenMike, who brings news to the cloistered people in exchange for foodstuffs. Craftily played by David Pearce, JohnnyPateenMike is a scabrous fellow, always eavesdropping and meddling. He has an ancient mother who has been drinking herself to death for 65 years. Then there's Helen (Kerry Condon), the pretty but mean girl who works for the eggman. She wants to go watch the filming so she can be discovered and taken to Hollywood. She rarely has a kind word for anyone, and delights in throwing eggs at any perceived insult, but Billy has a crush on her.

Billy decides he wants to go to the filming too, and before the end of Act I we learn, whether we can believe it or not, that the film crew has taken him with to Hollywood to screen test for the part of a cripple. This sets off a chain of events back on the island. There are some twists and misleading information, and by the end of the play it could make one dizzy just trying to figure out what exactly the truth is.

McDonagh's work always mixes intensely funny dialogue with sporadic bursts of violence--stage blood makes its presence known a few times during the course of this play. He also maintains a gimlet eye on the Irish, or at least his Irish, who are both twinkly and casually cruel. In some ways he treats them like eternal children, refusing to grow up even in advanced age. There's no slight, no matter how trivial, that doesn't create remarkable pettiness and grudges that can last a lifetime. But his characters are funny. There's an inspired bit involving a young man choosing a piece of candy from a tray, and a running gag about how Ireland must be a nice place if certain groups of people (and fish) want to come there.

The acting is all first-rate. Dearbhla Molloy and Marie Mullen are the two old aunties, one of whom has a tendency to talk to stones when she's stressed. Condon is sexy and vicious. Aaron Monaghan plays Billy, and you've got to wince when you realize he's walking on a turned ankle throughout the play. I did have occasional trouble understanding what he was saying though, particularly during a monologue set in a Los Angeles hotel room.

There's a note in the program that Flaherty's "documentary" really wasn't anything of the sort, that it was largely staged. McDonagh seems to have a burr in his saddle about this subtle exploitation of a people. He has his revenge, though, during a scene in which the characters of the play watch the film. They are profoundly unimpressed.