Dublin Theatre Festival 2024: The Jesus Trilogy

The Jesus Trilogy. Image credit, A Worthy Cause

***

As avid festival goers know, by mid October there’s a serious risk of burnout. Warning signs include thinking that the last production you saw was The House by Enda Walsh, directed by Louise Lowe at The Project Arts Centre. That you might have a significant partner somewhere. At least that's who the person you’re living with keeps insisting they are. That you go straight to the running time when looking at information about the next show. Dear God, no. The Jesus Trilogy by J.M. Coetzee. Adapted for the stage by Eoghan Quinn and Annabelle Comyn. Three hours, fifteen minutes. Is anything worth sitting through for three hours, fifteen minutes short of an opera? Now, now; deep breaths. Of course there are shows worth sitting through for three hours, fifteen minutes. Not many, but some. Unfortunately, The Jesus Trilogy isn’t one of them, even though it has several standout moments.

Those familiar with the trio of novels by J.M. Coetzee (The Childhood of Jesus, The Schooldays of Jesus and The Death of Jesus) which allegorically explore the ultimate questions of life fall into two categories; those who believe he was sincerely onto something but can’t prove it, and those who know he wasn’t and can prove it. You don’t have to look further than Coetzee himself; Disgrace, Elizabeth Costello, to name but two, being far more cohesive and insightful. Coetzee’s story of a precocious boy, David, raised by surrogate parents, Simon and Ines, echoing aspects of Christian myth whilst also advocating for reincarnation falling neatly into three sections. The first, Simon and David’s arrival at Novilla and their search for David’s mother. The second, David’s time at a special dance school where he meets the demented Dimitri. The third, David’s interminable death that drags on so long you’d happily administer the coup de grâce just to put yourself out of his misery. A twee, on the nose epilogue and you’re very much ready for bed. And that's after the matinee.

Whatever his credentials as an original playwright, one suspects Quinn must have missed the Adaption For The Stage module at NYU. And Comyn didn’t get the notes. Dialogue proving a trudging affair. The show-not-tell essence of storytelling theatre letting too much of the good stuff fall through the cracks, even as visual support is often excellent. Practicising economy with the wrong things or, as with the cinematic soundbite ending, in the wrong way at the wrong time. The whole feeling like having to listen in on another person’s laboured parent and teacher meeting when you really want them to move it along. Incidentally, you will be required to listen to a parent and teacher meeting.

As director, The Jesus Trilogy is arguably Comyn’s greatest triumph. Taking a dramatic and thematic mess and making it theatrically engaging way past the point it should be. Characters, for the most part, are totally disagreeable. David a spoiled, petulant brat who, five minutes in his company, would have you voting to bring back corporal punishment. Comyn’s choice of David as an absence mimed to when there are young cast members onstage, or when Colin Campbell ostensibly plays him via his voice, looking like a forced, meta-theatrical choice of convenience. Even as Tom Piper’s set and costumes are top drawer. Sliding wooden doors evoking everything from a train carriage to a stage within a stage, allowing for endless reframing. Megan Kennedy’s cramped choreography with scene stealing young dancers also enlivening. Performances working hard to perform miracles and make unlikable characters likeable. Malcolm Adams unnervingly unsettling Dimitri; Alexandra Conlon’s cool, matter of factness in a trio of roles; Tierra Porter’s sensitively insensitive Rita; Raymond Scannell’s gormless Alvaro; Fergal McElherron’s half tramp, half lost soul, talking down to everyone Simon, all terrifically realised. With Elaine O’Dwyer on a whole other level as the complex Ines, turning in a terrific performance.

I am the Truth, David says, but that sounds like a lie. Without our stories we are doomed to forget. If these are the stories that might not be a bad thing. In the end The Jesus Trilogy doesn’t live up to its justifications for itself. Life is too short for bad theatre. On the evidence of The Jesus Trilogy, it might be too short for long theatre. Not that The Jesus Trilogy is bad per se, but it in no way justifies its interminable running time. Like the much referenced Don Quixote, The Jesus Trilogy tilts at thematic and dramatic windmills telling us they’re monsters. But all we see is an old man talking to an invisible boy who isn’t there. For three hours, fifteen minutes. Thankfully, Comyn's direction whisks things along.

The Jesus Trilogy by J.M. Coetzee, adapted for the stage by Eoghan Quinn in collaboration with Annabelle Comyn, presented by Hatch Theatre Company, Once Off Productions and Mermaid Arts Centre, runs at Project Arts Centre as part of Dublin Theatre Festival 2024 until October 19.

For more information visit Dublin Theatre Festival 2024 or Project Arts Centre