In his ridiculous new play, Joe O'Byrne attempts to stuff any number of serious issues into a comedy about a B&B on the Dublin coast. Stressed-out proprietress Evelyn Dwyer's life is a mess: her teenage daughter Emer is about to have an illegitimate child; Emer's older sister Ella is secretly having an affair with a pretty girl down the road; and on top of that those pesky Germans keep on asking for more brown bread with their breakfast.
Then Evelyn's brother Owen returns from a 20 years in Las Vegas, dying of brain cancer, and reveals the roots of Evelyn's distress: aged 16 she was impregnated by the local priest, whom Owen then killed and buried beneath a lighthouse. Owen digs up the bones and dumps them on the kitchen table. When faced with the truth about her parentage, Ella deadpans, "Hi, Dad" to the skull.
One senses this is meant to be darkly funny, but as neither play nor production has established any consistent tone, rhythm, or point of view, the audience can only look on in mild chagrin. Things get even sillier in the second act. Evelyn tries to drown herself in the ocean, only to be rescued by her male German guest, who professes true love. The complexities of parenting are demonstrated as Evelyn and Ella attack each other, screaming "I hate you", and finally Emer gives birth on the shoreline, while Owen keels over in an apparent death swoon.
It is impossible to tell what O'Byrne is trying to say about Ireland with this overladen script. If it is meant to be just bit of fun, then why include bodies in the garden and paedophile priests? If it is meant to be a commentary on societal corruption, then why include dreadfully cliched jokes about German tourists?
David Parnell's production has the feel of a grim smile over gritted teeth. While there is textual support for Evelyn to be played as a near-hysteric, Marion O'Dwyer's performance is a few notches too high strung, and quickly becomes hard to take.
What is most disturbing about this piece of nonsense is that it is being presented by Ireland's national theatre, following closely on the heels of two equally flawed new plays, Sebastian Barry's Hinterland and Bernard Farrell's Lovers at Versailles. Does the Abbey really think this is quality writing for the theatre?
· Until April 20. Box office: 00 353 1 878 7222.
