IRELAND has a complicated relationship with religion. Conor McPherson swerves much of the recent controversy by setting his new play, The Brightening Air, in the 1980s. When the estranged “ex-priest” Uncle Pierre (Seán McGinley) arrives on the family scene, his presence adds to the confusion of a chaotic household. This is a domestic drama, in which grudges and loyalties alike have rubbed into the relationship grooves.
Two of three siblings inhabit a crumbling farmhouse in County Sligo. Rosie Sheehy’s tomboy, Billie, is probably “special educational needs” as we now say, possibly autistic. She is sparky, but can barely look after herself, let alone her chickens. Brian Gleeson as Stephen has to break his back running the farm, but it’s in debt and disrepair. The older brother, Dermot (sly and fly in Chris O’Dowd’s portrayal), lives elsewhere, between his wife and kids at home, and his disruptive, nubile girlfriend, Freya (Aisling Kearns), who works in one of his businesses. His willowy, overlooked wife, Lydia, is imbued with pathos and disappointment by Hannah Morrish.
Into all this comes Pierre. How long is he staying for? What is his intention? Is he really blind? What’s his clerical status? He is no longer in parish ministry, might have been unfrocked, but says mass each day at the kitchen table. His housekeeper-carer Elizabeth (Derbhle Crotty) explains some of this, and she has known the family for years and once had an affair with Stephen. Nowadays, Stephen is in love with Lydia, his sister-in-law. Billie, too, might be in love with Brendan the gentle farmhand (Eimhin Fitzgerald Doherty), but it’s not clear.
Uncle Pierre is, sadly, not a blind seer to help untangle their fates like Tiresias; for this is more Chekhov than Sophocles. Instead, he intends to reclaim the childhood home that he inherited with his late brother for his own purposes, and to outsmart the others with the wily Dermot. The four-act structure brings about a second half that throws everything up in the air with a conclusion that looks into an unexpected future with some regret. It could only be Ireland.
The title of the play is a quotation from W. B. Yeats, and the play’s lyrical tragi-comedy is the equal of anything by Brian Friel, with added metaphysics. (The “magic water” storyline is ingenious.) It is about place and identity, but also time: what we do with it, how much we have, and the people within it.
McPherson directs his own script with a sure hand; nothing feels rushed, family crowd scenes balance the more intimate moments of heartache. Rae Smith’s set and costumes perfectly evoke time and place and give with a few nods to Chekhov. The lighting scheme by Mark Henderson and film projections on the back wall bring further depth. The cast give some of the best performances on stage this year. Awards and a transfer will surely follow.
The Brightening Air is at The Old Vic, The Cut, London SE1, until 14 June. Box Office: phone 0344 871 7628. oldvictheatre.com