The Peacock stage of the Abbey Theatre has been transformed into a small and shabby living room in Coventry to welcome the Carney brothers – although “welcome” is perhaps too strong a word for a family that needs no introduction or invitation. As Hugo (played by Timmy Creed) smashes a glass against the wall amidst the noise and chaos of the other brothers, the audience shudders: Tom Murphy’s 1961 A Whistle in the Dark has returned, and it is as intense as ever.
Cordelia Chisholm’s set design is effective in creating a sense of intimacy and tension. The box that is the living room, with a ceiling and peeling wallpapers, feels both domestic and claustrophobic, too tiny to contain the rage of the Carneys. While Tom Murphy’s play can be read from a variety of angles, addressing topics from the Irish in England to toxic masculinity, Jason Byrne’s production focuses in particular on family relationships through the intimacy of the space.
The casting is outstanding. Each character is convincing and distinctive, yet there is no doubt that they share the same blood. Brian Gleeson’s Harry is terrifyingly cruel and domineering. He’s brought a souvenir from the rural Irish West to industrial England, a horseshoe that he’s turned into a knuckleduster. The state of complete frenzy reached by Gleeson and the fury burning in the actor’s eyes leave no doubt that this Carney will not hesitate to use his “souvenir”. Indeed, as he says, “Why take the risk ever, fighting fair with anyone?”
Iggy is the most animalistic of all. Tall and sturdy Peter Claffey makes his character speak with his body better than with words. His sobs as Dada recites his final monologue are sincere and heartbreaking.
By contrast, Timmy Creed’s Hugo is slim and agile, while Mush (portrayed by Ruairí Heading), a family friend limping on crutches, provides comic relief now and then with his awkwardness and expressive mimicry.
Indeed, humour is one of the most extraordinary features of Byrne’s directing. Despite the play’s darkness and violence, the audience – especially Irish and British members of it – shared genuine laughter throughout the performance.
Seán McGinley’s portrayal of Dada is simply genius. McGinley brilliantly balances Dada’s role as the eldest in the family, the tribal leader, the Irish father threatening his son with a belt with his presence as a childlike confused figure, who’s gone from being a policeman to unemployment. At the end, standing on a chair above everyone else, he is the smallest and the weakest. Yet, in his theatrical confidence, his singing, and simpering “How do you do?”, McGinley reveals the pitifully ridiculous sides of the character.
The relationship between Dada and Michael (played masterfully by Peter Coonan) is brought to the fore in Byrne’s production. In the words of Fintan O’Toole, both believe that they “can be, or are, as good as their betters”. The son mirrors the father, at one point literally: the audience turns into a looking glass, as Dada comes to the edge of stage, fixing his hair, and moments later, Michael repeats the action.
Betty is perceptive to this similarity: “Michael talks like that sometimes”, she responds to Dada’s realisation of his failure, quickly covered by a self-deceitful “No. No! I’m proud. I did all right by my family.” The only female figure on stage, Sarah Morris’s character is constantly moving, halting only in the corridor or doorways, as an outsider. She provides a kind of impartial perspective that makes her the closest person to the audience.
Des, the youngest Carney and the son Michael and Dada are fighting over, is played by James Doherty O’Brien. In the actor’s words, Des is a “shapeshifting” character who changes “depending on who he is around”. “When he is with Michael, he is most pure. Because there is a trust there.” When first appearing on stage, Doherty O’Brien’s Des is awkward and shy. As the play progresses, he slips into rage akin to that of his elder brothers.
To stage A Whistle in the Dark today, particularly in such an intimate setting, is to address the issues of family and brotherhood in all their destructive aspects. Byrne’s rendering of Murphy’s classic is an important contribution to the 21st century conversation around family values, masculinity and nationhood.
