Tender Mercies

Sorcha Furlong in Tender Mercies. Image Al Craig.

****

Poetry and prose collide in Colette Cullen’s hugely affecting Tender Mercies. Cullen’s prosaic tale a character study of hairdresser Mary concealing a knife up its sleeve. For Mary is an alcoholic on enough prescribed medication to supply an A&E unit on a Saturday night. Cullen’s tale inspired by the true life story of a woman whose body wasn’t discovered until a year after she died. A fact that frames Mary’s story with hidden poignancy, like watching a car crash as it happens. Mary’s life, a litany of banalities trying to hide the truth from us and herself. A life leaning heavily into secrecy. The truth hidden in plain sight; the pharmacy’s paper bag tucked beneath the table, the cardboard wine carrier covered with a cloth. Tales of once regular clients, like Rita, wanting to change her hair to red interspersed with mentions of Mary’s ex-husband Johnny, her twin brother Barry, her adoring Dad and a mother who took tough love to a whole other level. All supplying weak backstory and weaker justification for why Mary thinks she’s a ten time loser. Or why she can’t shake the monkey some call depression. The overcooked sympathy risking her truth disappearing like the last dregs in the bottle. A truth revealed in Sorcha Furlong's poetic and brilliant performance. Furlong impeccable as a lonely, isolated woman, so wounded even her smiles have scars.

Even though director Caroline Fitzgerald elicits ten of the best performative minutes to be had anywhere, from the outset Tender Mercies struggles with its identity. Like its uncredited set, Cullen’s text is a contrived mess of convenience. As with alcohol and pills, its I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles, street games, Bunty readers nostalgia doesn’t mix well with its grim realism. Leaving Tender Mercies speaking clearest to women of a particular generation. And so it goes for about forty minutes, rambling through old references, backstory and exposition, none of it particularly gripping. Furlong guiding us through Mary's days of wine and rose coloured glasses. Lulling us into wondering where this might be going and a false sense of thinking we’re witnessing a performer doing an impressive job. But this is meat and potatoes for Furlong. Impressive is coming, and you’ll know it when it gets here.

In the hands of a lesser performer, Mary’s breakdown could play like a cheap gimmick. A gut punch to the emotional buttons for easy effect. With Furlong, we get layered nuance, subtleties within subtleties, flashes of truth that burn only an instant, being too painful to look at any longer. Furlong reaching in and scooping truth from its pain dark depths. Mary, like a parent watching their child fight for their life, helpless to do anything. Her hope an unrequited lover’s last kiss. All her worlds imploding from sheer emotional force. The diminutive ending, with its darker suggestions, offering slow release from the whirlwind in which everyone, including Mary, has failed her.

Typecasting carries penalties. In Tender Mercies, Furlong reminds you she can deliver to standards few attain. Timing could have been better though. With Dublin Theatre Festival 2024 running in tandem, it’s naturally going to attract the bulk of theatre goers. But if you want to check out a top class performance, Furlong at The Viking is a sure fire certainty. In the end, you might remember Mary, but Furlong you'll never forget.

Tender Mercies by Colette Cullen, runs at The Viking Theatre until Oct 12th.

For more information visit The Viking Theatre