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Beautifully written domestic drama from Paul Mercier, whose mission
to show that high drama exists in lower life, that the extraordinary is to be found
among the ordinary continues. The story concerns the fate of a lower middle class
Dublin family poised on the brink of seeing its members going their separate ways.
As the play opens, there is tension between mother and father, the
eldest son has already emigrated to England, the eldest daughter, who never completes any
task fully, has brought home the latest in a string of boyfriends, the younger son is
struggling to get his punk band off the ground and insists on trying to claim social
welfare payments despite his fathers embarrassment, and the youngest daughter has
begun to embrace student politics. As the drama proceeds, we are taken further down
the line of the family in the hope that at least one of them will be saved from
bourgeois hypocrisy and self-absorption.
Merciers first work commissioned by the National Theatre is more
measured in its expression of political concerns than usual, but despite exploring a
pleasing netherworld between commitment and delusion, ultimately aligns itself firmly with
the dogmatic younger daughter. Her belief that people have a duty to look outside of
themselves and try to make a real difference to the world though social defiance is shown
to suffer various ridicules and challenges. Though she is ultimately less successful as a
class rebel than she hoped, she commands sympathy in her struggle.
The bulk of the play is taken up with a careful and very well crafted
series of character interactions which are smoothly controlled by director Lynne Parker.
It is deceptively simple in structure and presentation. The set consists of a
cross-section of the family home which features four exits and three active spaces: a
kitchen, a hallway, and a garage. Character entrances and exits are naturalistic but
swift, and good use is made of the defining nature of such spaces in a typical family
home. Unseen is the house garden which has been ravaged by storm at the beginning but
which the long-suffering father attempts to nurse back to health as the family seems to be
going in the opposite direction. The garden space is occupied by the audience in what
amounts to a not particularly subtle assertion that this play is more than just a casual
entertainment.
Set in the 1980s, Down the Line draws upon a very particular
economic and social context. Its references to abortion, punk, emigration, and even,
eventually, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the growth of the computer business all serve
to reinforce Merciers deeper concerns, and it does work itself out as a discourse
upon the difficulties in Irish society and social attitudes.
The strength of this production is not its metaphorical richness
though, nor its rumblings about class and conflicting belief systems. It is at its best on
the most basic level, as a depiction of family dynamics.Merciers command of
character and dialogue makes the play superbly authentic. Despite one or two loaded
monologues, most of what transpires on stage is most convincing on a human level.
The performances are equally important in this regard, of course, and
each of the cast makes an important and relatively equal contribution. In the central role
of the younger daughter, Karen Staples does well balancing the left-wing rhetoric with
genuine human emotion. Barbara Brennan and Clive Geraghty are all-too recognizable parents
coping not only with the changes their childrens ongoing lives bring to theirs, but
with their own long and clearly difficult relationship. Both actors are compelling in the
roles. Most commanding among the other children is Brian Doherty as the self-assured
emigre who seems doomed to repeat the mistakes of his elders and
doesnt seem to mind. Parker uses his physical presence well and the actor enjoys one
or two of the plays more tender scenes alongside Staples. Supporting performances
from Keith McErlean and Eunice McMenamin are also good, though Neili Conroy gets a
slightly silly (if polemically effective) role as a wide-eyed Hindu-wannabe.
Down the Line is solid, well-crafted, naturalistic theatre
which is usually involving and sometimes funny. Mercier has claimed that alternative
theatre has been the life force, touchstone, spring well, inspiration, and
conscience of Irish theatre for over 30 years. Though this play is most definitely
mainstream and has all the gloss and style of a high-end production, it is still a work of
conscience. Its account of the demise of old fashioned ideas of family is not quite as
triumphalist as might have been expected, nor its account of the blossoming of an
alternative consciousness quite so unreserved, but Mercier still has something to say and
is able to say it while delivering nicely on a mechanical level. The play is worth seeing,
although fans of his angrier and/or funnier work may be disappointed.
Dublin, October 10, 2000 - Harvey O'Brien