It appears to be something of a Greek season for the Abbey
with Wayne Jordan's incoming adaptation of Oedipus and the Abbey's current
production: By the Bog of Cats, a retelling of Euripides' ancient Greek
classic, Medea. Hester Swain is a woman scorned. Betrayed by her lover,
Carthage Kilbride, for a new bride, Hester has found herself being run off by
Carthage and her usurper's father, the severe patriarch Xavier Cassidy. Having
been abandoned by her mother as a child, Hester isn't quick to let things go,
especially her bog and her daughter, Josie, Hester's mother's namesake. The
resulting spiral of anger and bitterness in which shows that no character is as
they seem, drives Hester to commit the unspeakable.
Monica Frawley's set is a wonderful reflection of the plays
desolate content. A misty frozen over bog with a partially visible caravan
sticking out of the ground: though this particular feature is absent for the
majority of the play, it has a significant role in the stunning opening in
which the interior of the sunk caravan is explored with an iphone wielding
adventurer. His phone recordings displayed on a large screen at the back of the
stage, found footage style. Unfortunately, it is not long after this intriguing
opening that the cracks show. Hester engages in many long-drawn static dialogue
exchanges which are so quiet and gives the language so much emphasis you would
think it was as poetic as Shakespeare. Now, I haven't gotten personal in any of
these reviews so far, but this is one instance that I feel very inclined to do
so. The language of this play frustrated me. Being a bogger myself, it was
incredibly irritating hearing so much bogger cadence and colloquialisms with
very little infused poetic creativity, voiced with so much stressed syllables,
and given so much time and attention when the result is like a monotonous,
poetically unconscious Seamus Heaney.
However, much like The Abbey's Midsummer Night's Dream, the
older cast members are a comedic saving grace. Marion O' Dwyer is excellent as
Mrs. Kilbride, a rage-fuelled, eye popping sneering bully. Bríd ní Neachtain
also gives a good performance as the idiosyncratic, soothsaying Catwoman and
Des Nealon is also great as the inept priest Father Willow. Due to these
performances, the play reaches a comedic high at the mid-way wedding scene, but
unfortunately, we must return to Hester Swain's tragedy following this. Herein
lies probably the play's greatest fault: its inconsistency of tone. There's
tragi-comic, then there's expecting an audience to have the emotional capacity
of a light switch. This is especially apparent with Hester Swain's dance with
the cowboy Ghost Fancier after we have just witnessed something disturbing in
the plays final scene. This incongruence doesn't offer anything.
It is also a shame that such a finely designed set goes to
waste. The sinking caravan, the half buried fridge, the secret compartments,
everything is used minimally. This is especially true for the screen which is
barely used and not to much good effect beyond the opening. All and all it's a
very confused production with some good performances.
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