Theater Online - New York Theater Reviews

To be an aristocrat in 1970s Ireland is to be an anachronism: a dying breed. This fact does not seem to trouble the family in Brian Friel’s “Aristocrats” at The Irish Rep; in fact, each one of them longs for their aristocracy, whether admitted or not, to come to an end. The O’Donnells have suffered bad marriages, thwarted dreams, and alcoholism; they have been insulated from politics and “The Troubles” and from anything approaching reality. This “privileged” upbringing has suffused these adults with longing for the lives they never led. No one can put on a happy face for the occasion (in this case, a wedding); not even the bride-to-be.

Casimir (John Keating) is the 31-year-old only brother who, according to his father, would have been the village idiot had he been born “down there.” Since he was born at Ballybeg Hall, he could be “absorbed” instead. As it is, Casimir is very odd, knowingly so, and shuts out reality with music, memories, and invented tales. It is questionable whether he really has a wife, children, or works in a processing plant, as none of the family have ever seen any proof of this, as they are conveniently located in Hamburg. His sister Alice (Orlagh Cassidy) is a drunk who married the wrong man and fled to London, and when she first enters, sports a fine bruise on her cheekbone. Her husband Eamon (Ciaran O’Reilly) was in love with and later spurned by her sister Judith (Lynn Hawley), who now has nothing to look forward to at 55 except spinsterhood and taking care of her dying and demanding father. His voice can be heard interrupting furiously over an intercom that has been rigged up in light of his deteriorating health, out of sight but still commanding attention. Claire (Laura Odeh), the bride-to-be in her 20s, should be happy but isn’t, as her much older fiancé and his children seem to hold no allure for her, except as a means to escape Ballybeg Hall. If she had been allowed, she would have been a concert pianist, but her father put a stop to that. Old Uncle George (Geddeth Smith) wanders in and out, and was once said to have spoken seven words at Eamon’s wedding. The family driver, Willie (Sean Gormley), not only drives but also manages the land, gets supplies in, loans money: in short, he, along with Judith, keeps Ballybeg Hall going. The outsider to all this is an American professor, Tom (Rufus Collins), who has come to research the Irish Catholic aristocracy and gets more than he bargained for in terms of drama, yet not enough of the dark truths he’s looking for. There is also talk and tales of the siblings’ late, beautiful mother, an actress by some accounts, a singer by others, who took her own life in her 40s.

There aren’t many playwrights who can turn longing into poetic, heart-breaking beauty, but Friel is one of them. He is helped by an excellent, accomplished cast, which is beautifully directed by Charlotte Moore. There are secrets laid bare, and truths eventually uncovered, and turning points for all. The second act in particular is positively sublime. For the O’Donnells, when all is said and done, moving on can actually be cause for celebration, with all sorts of promising possibilities.