Sally's Return
**
Playwright Michael J. Harnett and director Vinny McCabe’s Dublin Touring Company have created a theatrical cottage industry crafting original plays for the nostalgia circuit. And more power to them, given there's a dedicated audience who enjoy trips down memory lane. At best, like the memorable Madeira, whose success was due in no small measure to a mesmerising Deirdre Monaghan, Harnett's lightweight scripts entertain and enlighten. At the other end of the spectrum there’s Sally’s Return, which tells a desperately dull, drearily told, utterly unconvincing tale. Redeemed, but not saved, by a top cast who look wasted in this problematic production.
It begins promising enough. A morning after a wedding in the country, with everyone a little worse for wear, sees Owen O’Gorman’s Gerry establishing backstory by way of a phone call to his wife back in Coventry. Enter fellow member of the diaspora, Sally; Ann Russell charging tensions as Sally reignites a conversation from the previous night with the evasive Gerry. For the next twenty minutes we listen in on something akin to a genealogy chart of people we never met nor care about, peppered with nostalgic recollections that renders action onstage nothing more than expositional chatter. The arrival of Brid McCarty’s adorable Bernie opens up a contrived question about the past with the same attraction as clickbait: false enticements promising much but delivering little. As an unconvincing story plays out to an unconvincing end, it’s hard to care for characters who are little more than contradictory mouthpieces revisioning historical issues from the 1970s through a 21st century lens. Along with a half developed theme of the dangers of medicating for depression.
Without giving away Sally’s contrived motive for cornering Gerry, what can be said is that in the era of The Disappeared, knee cappings and much worse, Sally’s grievance resembles what Sarah Schulman terms overstating trauma, due, in no small measure, to Harnett failing to make his case. As a result, everything becomes a hard sell. Much more compelling is Brid’s tagged on tale of a practice common during the years of the Magdalene Laundries, leaving you wanting to know more of what is clearly the stronger story. Instead Sally’s Return settles for nostalgic referencing akin to the harp rendition of Butch Moore’s Walking The Streets In The Rain, resulting in a sugar rush of sentimentality that claims old friends to be the best. Even as the play spent seventy minutes proving the exact opposite to be true.
Like Madeira, cast is by far the best thing about this production. Marie Tierney’s set, all latticed wood evoking a hotel garden or nursing home, ably lit by Andrew Murray, is competent without being compelling. Meanwhile Russell, O’Gorman and McCarthy give energised performances lending this disappointing offering far more dignity than it deserves. McCabe’s direction often leaving his three strong cast looking left to their own devices. Luckily, they’ve a wealth of experience to draw on. As does Harnett, who can, and has written far better plays than Sally’s Return.
Sally’s Return by Michael J. Harnett, runs at The Viking Theatre until April 5.
For more information visit The Viking Theatre
