Let Us Synge!

Sometimes a person can't help but feel immensely proud to be Irish. Not world-cup booze-fuelled passing pride, but a deep sense of pleasure in belonging to a country rich with unique people, and heritage. Leaving the Druid Theatre Company's marathon production of the works of John Millington Synge, this sentiment was allowed a good airing in honour of a genius playwright, who preserved so brilliantly the expression of common but extra-ordinary Irish folk in generations past.

Directed by Garry Hynes, this awesome, eight and a half hour production, premiered in New York as part of the Lincoln Center Festival, and included all six of Synge's plays, even the unfinished Deirdre of the Sorrows which he was working on when he died, at the age of 38. Far less daunting a theatre experience than it might sound, from the moment the curtain was raised in the early afternoon, to the standing ovation delivered well after dark, the audience was carried away to the bygone homesteads of Ireland, playing fly on the wall to the most compelling of rural scenarios.

In the preface to his most famous play, The Playboy of the Western World in 1907, Synge wrote, "In a good play every speech should be as fully flavored as a nut or apple, and such speeches cannot be written by anyone who works among people who have shut their lips on poetry."

Listening to the rhythms and cadence of the language in Riders to the Sea, The Tinker's Wedding, The Well of the Saints, The Shadow of the Glen, The Playboy of the Western World, and Deirdre of the Sorrows, you would almost think that Synge himself was the creator of language, such is his intense empathy and understanding of its joys and nuances.

Born into a Protestant family in Dublin, Synge acknowledged that the words employed by him were learned "from herds and fishermen along the coast from Kerry to Mayo, or from beggar-women and ballad-singers nearer Dublin." He believed that reality is the root of all poetry and whether he intended to or not, he instilled a passion for "real theatre" in many a playwright since.

Now considered a masterpiece, following its premier at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin, where Synge was artistic director along with W.B.Yeats and Lady Gregory, Playboy sparked riots at the time. Considered an affront to Irish culture, many claimed that it was not a true representation of the pious and peaceful people of the west. Given that it has had so many rebirths since it was penned, it is a testament to the creative force of Hynes' and her incredible cast that the performance is so lively and inventive, while remaining true to the remarkable text.

An evocative set, designed by Francis O' Connor, puts the audience literally at the feet of these maestro works. An Irish farm house, embraced by the howling wind, a raised floor of earth through which the cast connect in mostly bare feet. It is at once familiar and chilling. Superb performances by the 19 member ensemble unravel the very fabric of human nature, at its best and at its worst. Veteran actor, Marie Mullen, co-founder of the Druid Theatre, who along with Hynes, won a Tony Award for Martin McDonagh's Beauty Queen of Linane, carries lead roles in all but one of the six shows. A delight on stage, she is as versatile as she is talented, one moment keening her six dead sons in Riders to the Sea, the next, scheming, but sympathetic, as Widow Quin in Playboy. Equally exceptional is Eamon Morrissey who turns up as the caustic Martin Doul in The Well of the Saints, as flailing Dan Burke in The Shadow of the Glen and in many other guises throughout this epic journey. The young Gemma Reeves is effortless in the incomplete love story that is Deirdre of the Sorrows. Aaron Monaghan and Simone Kirby spar hilariously in an updated Tinker's Wedding, which puts paid to any romantic notions of the roadside life. Kirby is made for the part of Sarah Casey. As is Sarah-Jane Drummey as the mini-skirted, bump and grind, Molly Byrne in The Well of the Saints. Here Kathy Strachan's costume design works wonders with the fickle mob dressed in vivid 1960s garb, whilst the beggar protagonists limp along in drab-rags. Catherine Walsh is stellar as Pegeen Mike in Playboy, as is the rest of this quality company throughout.

There is no sense that Hynes is playing for laughs, when the prose is delivered with such painstaking care. Still, there are uproariously funny moments, especially in The Tinker's Wedding and Shadow of the Glen. And in Playboy you can't help but laugh out loud at Sarah Tansey, Honor Blake and Susan Brady, as the village girls who rush, to see this villain for themselves. The cat and mouse which ensues, and the giddy recounting of the murder of his father by Monaghan's Christy Mahon, egged on by the Widow Quin, is spot on and timeless.

Yet the realism in each script highlights the complex make-up of each community examined. The cruelty laced into the humour is shocking, as are the spurts of savagery, next to great displays of strength and courage. And there are plenty of sober scenes for reflection. In Riders to the Sea, Mullen's Maurya, is so reversed in her grief, she tells her lamenting neighbors, with resign. "No man, at all, can be living forever." Perhaps most poignant though, given his rare gift and lamentably short-life, is that Synge depicts beauty as a temporary treasure.