Tag Archives: Martin McDonagh

“The Pillowman” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

It’s surprising that this is the first London revival and West End debut for Martin McDonagh’s 2003 play. Given its author’s fame and the work’s reputation, you might have expected to see the piece more often. It’s worth the wait. The Pillowman is every bit as puzzling and disturbing as I recalled from its National Theatre debut. And if you don’t know the play, then prepare to scratch and shake your head in equal measure.

The reputation isn’t hard to fathom. McDonagh always challenges his audiences intelligently and there’s plenty to think about, while pushing the bounds of good taste makes us laugh a lot. The language is blue (less shocking even since 2003) but, given how much child torture and murder features in The Pillowman, it should still be a hard sell. Even those who like the blackest of humour might blanch at the stories told here.

The teller of said stories is one Katurian, who we meet being interrogated my police in a nameless totalitarian state. The questioning is odd, but just as unsettling are Katurian’s morbid tales, which are quoted to her by the police and told in asides. And that isn’t quite right, is it? All our support should surely be with the writer. But the power of these stories, riffs on fairy tales that even Hans Christian Andersen would think go too far, is the focus. Because someone has been acting them out!

It seems a bit mean to say who the perpetrator is – it’s a good twist. But McDonagh plays with expectations marvellously. Firstly, Katurian’s brother, Michal, who is mentally challenged, loses our sympathy. Then those awful cops start to look… maybe not so bad? They have a story to tell, too. What Katurian gets up to made me gasp. The price this writer is willing to pay for posterity is another shocker.

Such strong material isn’t automatically easy to bring to the stage – McDonagh is demanding of performers. Director Matthew Dunster has engendered fine acting while showing commendable respect for the script. The policemen, Paul Kaye and Steve Pemberton, aren’t strangers to dark humour. If their performances lack surprises, they are still accomplished. Matthew Tennyson makes Michal suitably spooky, and his chemistry with his onstage sister is unnerving. But the star of the night is Lily Allen, who is revelatory in the lead role. Allen shows huge control as her character faces constant violence and horror, indicating how smart Katurian is, yet never going for cheap laughs. Above all, the importance of the work to Katurian is convincing, providing a sense of reality in a play that has so much fantasy and from which nightmares ensue.

Until 2 September 2023

www.pillowmanplay.com

Photo by Johan Persson

“A Very Very Very Dark Matter” at the Bridge Theatre

This world premiere from playwright Martin McDonagh marks the first year of Nicholas Hytner’s new home on the Southbank. McDonagh appeals too many, writing in a tradition the programme labels “Irish Gothic”, yet with an approachable modern tone that gives him a distinctive (and much imitated) voice. Here, fairytales are the material, a clever move as they share a sense of the macabre that is McDonagh’s forte. He proposes that Hans Christian Anderson’s stories were actually written by a time-travelling pygmy imprisoned in his attic who plans to save the Congo from Belgian colonialism… Not everyone could get away with that pitch.

The scenario is rich in oddity but poorly developed. Still, it’s clear that director Matthew Dunster is convinced, taking a reverent approach to the script that results in slow moments despite the short running time of 90 minutes. And the cast look as if they’re having a great time with McDonagh’s irreverence. Anderson’s stupidity and ignorance results in a flouting of political correctness only a psychopath can get away with and Jim Broadbent, who takes the role, makes the most of every joke. His fellow lead, playing the real writer, Ogechi, is a more interesting part. In this role Johnetta Eula’Mae Ackles is occasionally too focused on delivering her punchlines. Surely the atrocities of slavery should make the play moving as well as dark? Ackles excels, though, on the play’s ruminations about stories and writings of many kinds. As you might expect, McDonagh provides insight here.

Jim Broadbent

A Very Very Very Dark Matter is funny. As for the style of humour, nobody can complain about trades descriptions. But along with tackling the grotesque and his ability to make you squirm, McDonagh does rely on expletives. It works, and the laughter is deafening, especially when children are swearing, while Phil Daniels and Elizabeth Berrington, as a foul-mouthed Mr and Mrs Charles Dickens, put in good turns. But these jokes might strike you as easy. Especially when McDonagh can clearly do so much more: language difficulties between the British author and the Danish Anderson are much more inventive.

McDonagh takes on contemporary concerns about the canon and commemoration: cultural giants and statues of King Leopold of Belgium. But debate isn’t added to, so the inclusion of such history ends up puzzling. Humour is the selling point – arguably this can be an effective way of questioning the past and its narratives. But the play’s downfall is that is contains so little drama – unlike McDonagh’s other work there’s a lack of tension. Maybe the story is just too silly? Or too self-referential – pointing out the writing’s structure, to purposely deflate it. There’s never an edge-of-seat moment and, knowing how well McDonagh can write, this becomes frustrating.

Until 6 January 2019

www.bridgetheatre.co.uk

Photos by Manuel Harlan

“Hangmen” at the Royal Court

Taking capital punishment as a subject makes sense for a writer as darkly comic as Martin McDonagh. The story of the second-best hangman in England, set on the day the death penalty is abolished, makes a superb vehicle for David Morrissey in the lead. Having just confirmed its transfer into the West End, it’s already a hit.

There are a very respectable number of laughs, with lots of period detail. Hangman Harry, now a Northern publican, makes an effective mouthpiece for a variety of sexist and racist views. His objection to the guillotine? “It’s messy and French.” Morrissey is brilliant at bullish and brings a nasty, sharp edge to this unlikeable character. Harry’s customer-cum-cronies in his bar are good value as well and nicely performed. The only issue is that perhaps it isn’t very original.

Sally Rogers (Alice) and Bronwyn James (Shirley) in Hangmen by Martin McDonagh directed by Matthew Dunster Credit Simon Annand.jpg
Sally Rogers and Bronwyn James

The tension in Hangmen is more taut than the comedy. A mysterious stranger, played with offbeat menace by Johnny Flynn, brings suspense. And Reece Shearsmith, as Harry’s former colleague, gives a fine performance as an unwitting and inept conspirator. There are also fine turns from Harry’s wife and their “mopey” daughter, Sally Rogers and Bronwyn James, respectively. Their dialogue is impeccable and hugely impressive.

Towards the end, the show really takes off. The more dangerous things get, the funnier they become. Harry’s megalomania erupts in outlandish fashion and the plot twists in a pleasantly unpredictable manner. Briefly interrupted by the arrival of his nemesis, the more famous executioner Albert Pierrepoint, played expertly by John Hodgkinson, the scene is excruciating funny – this is the stuff. Maybe it’s greedy to expect it to be this good all the way through?

Until 10 October 2015 and then at Wyndham’s Theatre from the 1 December – 5 March 2016

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Photos by Simon Annand

“The Cripple of Inishmaan” at the Noël Coward Theatre

The latest star on stage in Michael Grandage’s season at the Noël Coward theatre is Daniel Radcliffe, taking the title role in The Cripple of Inishmaan. Martin McDonagh’s 1996 comedy, set around the arrival of a film crew making a documentary in 1930s Ireland, is a viciously funny piece that’s worth seeking out regardless of casting.

All eyes are on Radcliffe, of course, and the pressure on the critic to give a verdict pales in significance with that on him to perform. His accent isn’t as strong as those of other members of the cast, and he doesn’t have the same comic aplomb, but there’s nothing here to be ashamed of. Making the role even more physically demanding than it needs to be is testament to his determination, and his thoroughness impresses.

And in terms of Radcliffe’s career this is a clever move. The Cripple of Inishmaan is an ensemble piece. Radcliffe gets further credit from a controlled performance as part of the group; there’s never an attempt to upstage, and his intelligence about the dynamics on stage, shared by director Grandage, is clear.

Pat Shortt and June Watson
Pat Shortt and June Watson

There are several wonderful performances to enjoy. Pat Shortt shows himself the natural comedian as Johnnypateenmike, the village’s self-appointed news service: the scene with his ‘drunken mammy’ June Watson had me in tears of laughter. And Cripple Billy’s adopted aunts Ingrid Craigie and Gillian Hanna have a marvellous command of the stage that reveals their appreciation of McDonagh’s language.

It is the writer who is the real star here. McDonagh’s depiction of a rural community so dull that Billy’s only entertainment is to watch cows, and so insular that everyone regards this as a little risqué, is deliciously offensive. The jokes are worthy of any stand-up and the entertaining plot turns continually enforce serious, satisfying themes. McDonagh’s playfulness, with audience expectations and prejudices, make this revival a welcome one. And you get to see a star into the bargain.

Until 31 August 2013

www.michaelgrandagecompany.com

Photos by Johan Persson

Written 24 June 2013 for The London Magazine