The Acting

The Acting. Image uncredited

***

Hi diddle de dee, the actor’s life for me. Yet following your star is no easy path. In Jarlath Tivnan’s madcap comedy, The Acting, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t when it comes to pursuing life in the T-ate-her. The ignominy of Dramasoc. The shame of having to come out to your parents. The sneers from those who followed the sensible road. The humiliation of your only line being taken away in a Nativity play, along with your teacloth, and bestowed upon a lesser talent. It’s too much for any anxiety ridden ack-tor to bear. Especially Charlie, Roscommon’s newest success just waiting to happen. Even if, at thirty four, he has neither an acting gig nor a driving licence. Yet Charlie has talent. Commitment. He’s made sacrifices for his art. Just ask him, he’ll tell you. What he doesn't have is anything resembling an acting career. So what do you do when nothing you do is good enough? Herein lies the terminal flaw in Tivnan’s car crash tale. A hotchpotch of comic scenes ranging from weak to terrific in which Charlie pleads his innocence but the evidence finds him guilty. ‘I wasn’t good enough’, his defence. ‘You never properly tried’, the jury’s verdict.

A parody bordering on pantomime The Acting is full of hilarity. It’s just not hilarious enough of the time and, when it is, it doesn’t always do its comedy justice, relying too often on broad strokes when a delicate touch was needed. Director Rex Ryan’s, never adequately addressing the issues in Tivnan’s script, compounding matters with comedy not looking like his strongest directorial suit. Set-up, pace, timing are all unevenly handled, leaving a broad range of gags to stumble rather than land. Relying too much on Tivnan’s explosive performance, all frenetic, unfocused, upstaging energy; Tivnan needing to work smarter rather than harder. His two tone performance of exuberant highs and exuberant lows contrasting with scene stealing support from Shane O’Regan and Eva Jane Gaffney in a multitude of roles, each showing balance, range and timing. Especially Gaffney who delights as Ve-wonica, she of the unpronounceable R’s, or a sultry, stern librarian, or a kind hearted Mom. Perfectly matched by O’Regan’s loving father or as Charlie’s insecure frenemy. The image of O’Regan in a fetching little stetson and Daisy Duke shorts likely to give you nightmares. Or not.

Visually, with everyone in black attire, a sense of an acting class is ever present. Further undermining The Acting’s suspension of disbelief. The belief that Charlie’s training options were exhausted and that sitting around, writing failed plays and waiting for work constitutes work. No one is buying that. Nor can you buy Charlie’s wild eyed naivety about the nature of the profession, even if he is from Boyle. In the end, given how ripe this field is for humour and insight, The Acting falls short for offering low hanging fruit. Looking as if Tivnan had a dramatic scene he wants to play rather than a funny story to tell. It’s a grand scene, a come to Jesus moment when a tear strewn Charlie, beautifully wrought by Tivnan, accepts he isn’t good enough. But it’s a truth based on a lie. The delusion that Charlie gave it his best shot. Self acceptance looking like more self sabotage, or self pity, even as it all ends with deja vu, history repeating itself, or another chance? Charlie, like Tivnan, clearly showing talent, even if it is in its raw, unprocessed state. Ensuring there’s some serious soul in The Acting, and some priceless comic moments. Moments that hold the rest to account. Like Paul Mescal, receiving yet another award. Is he really that good? Tivnan certainly could be.

The Acting, by Jarlath Tivnan, runs at Glass Mask Theatre until October 19.

For more information visit Glass Mask Theatre