Welcome revival of chronicle of troubled times
WHEN it was first put on in the Abbey Theatre in September 1926, 'The Big House' provoked our greatest theatrical commentator, Joseph Holloway, to say it "missed being a big play by a short head" but would undoubtedly be discussed.
"No doubt whatever," he added. He was wrong.
Seventy-five years have passed. We have endlessly discussed the situation, but of the play there has been no intelligent discussion because it was never put on again. Ireland, shamed by what had been done, turned its back. As the central character, Kate Alcock, says: "It is very hard to forgive toleration." So perhaps it was a relief to everyone that no toleration was ever offered.
The play is a chronicle of troubled times, "Ireland's past in four episodes", all of them set in the 'Big House' owned by the Alcocks. The first of these, set in 1918, is arguably the best, a calm presentation of settled life in troubled times. Kate, played in a spirited, chirpy way by Lucy Gaskell, accommodates herself to change. Her father, St Leger Alcock, played a bit uncertainly by Patrick Godfrey, has tried to follow her; emotionally and politically he lies between his daughter and his wife, an English woman who does not understand the country she has spent her adult life in. Nor does Kate's suitor, Captain Despard.
When he returns, in 1921, as a Black and Tan officer - and drunk, to boot - the play wobbles, as do her emotions. Before it became fashionable, Lennox Robinson put on stage all the stock items of Ireland's unending struggle: trilby hats ferociously worn, belted mackintoshes, gaiters and boots, Luger pistols. These dominate the third and fourth episodes and the family's fate is sealed. Robinson's stage-craft is good but he does not write well enough to release the inner hearts of his characters in an emotionally satisfying way.
The bright confidence of Gaskell as Kate shines on, not like the sun but like a torch. She plays the part with brittle self-confidence stripped of sympathy. This weakens what is a piece of Chekhov-like social drama. Holloway recognized in 1926 that the over-talkativeness of 'The Big House' maimed its dramatic force. Conall Morrison repairs this with strong direction; sets and lighting are good. The unsympathetic Mrs Alcock is well realized by Deirdre Donnelly and the other players create a satisfactory frame for the story.
It is a welcome revival and should be seen, among other things, to show us what might have gone on in the Abbey if the dictatorial hands of Yeats and Lady Gregory had been less heavy and not so misguided.
- BRUCE ARNOLD
