The Cripple of Inishmaan at the ADC raises the curious question of ‘When is an Irish play, not an Irish play?' Written by an English playwright, delivered by a non-Irish cast, and with input from the university’s dramatic American and European touring groups, this is a truly universal production. While the tone and darkness of the humour can to the casual observer appear to be along the same lines as that of Father Ted or Mrs Brown’s Boys, Martin McDonagh’s writing owes a lot more to Chekov and Miller. And fortunately, this depth is very well handled by Rebecca Vaa and her strong ensemble team.

Set in the dark and wild islands off the west coast of Ireland, the play centres on the idealistic plight of Billy. Born with an unspecified deformity, he dreams of love, adventure, and finding a purpose to his life. His existential angst is heightened by his frustration with those who surround him. The drunken, uneducated, gossiping and interfering residents of the islands, who cannot seem to see beyond the latest farmyard feud. Billy hopes for bigger things. His physical limitations prevent him from achieving an apparently useful role in this primitive society. His frustrations are capably handled by Conor Dumbrell, who also has a very sensitive approach to the character’s physicality. Much like the stage versions of The Elephant Man and Quasimodo , what we see is more representative of the character’s view of himself, rather than how the rest of the world sees of him.

"[Billy's] frustrations are capably handled by Conor Dumbrell, who also has a very sensitive approach to the character’s physicality"

The staging is suitably bleak and oppressive. The isolation and poverty sit amid a sea of brown, and grey, and black, with the set, the costumes and even it appears the characters’ own faces all coming from this same depressive palette. Only the sea and the distant sky offer a glimpse of what may be beyond the island, and these appear in a burst of comic-book colour. Arriving from across the Atlantic ocean, the unseen outsiders offer unimagined excitement.

Coming to make a film about the harshness of life on the island, their presence acts as the catalyst to ignite some long-smouldering resentments amongst the locals. Although never present on stage, we are given an insight into the brilliance and glory which they bring through seeing some extracts from the film. This is handled beautifully, with a giant projection taking over the stage, and engulfing the cast as they watch. The literal and psychological enormity of this film serves to hammer home the futility of the life that Billy leads, and we finally see him (and others) snap under the pressure. The surrounding cast of everyman-village folk , although apparently Irish, could in reality be from any tribe, at any time. It would appear that this tight cast have undertaken a lot of work to bond and interact, embodying the mix of closeness and frustration that runs deep in such small communities.

In particular, Kim Alexander and Ellie Cole are hugely successful in channelling the spirits of some maiden aunts who lives have not, and will never amount to anything. They simmer and bubble with resentment and sharpness, while on the surface doing their utmost to seem calm and sincere. Henry Philips as the interfering Johnnypateenmike (as in John Patrick Michael) has the relentless energy and talkativeness of the archetypical village gossip. Eva Delaney and Toby Waterworth bring the youth and mischief that Billy longs for.

"It is when this strong cast immerse themselves fully in the writing, that the authentic darkness of the edgy production shines through"

Dealing with the challenges of this very idiosyncratic script is not an easy job. The dialogue is structured as a half-remembered, half-imagined mock-Irish dialect. The subtleties of the vocabulary, the Hiberno-English phrasing, and the semi-poetic rhythms are never directly encountered in any natural speech. McDonagh’s writing demands both an understanding of, and a respect for the original cultural origins of the language used. While this production never quite succeeds in embracing this, it still manages to deliver the comedy and the darkness as a piece of drama which happens to have an Irish link, rather than having Irishness at it’s heart.

Authentically Irish – in Cambridge?

And much like one wouldn’t attempt a Danish accent for Hamlet, there are times when it is best to simply concentrate on the delivery of script rather than get too caught up about trying to mimic specific accents. It is when this strong cast immerse themselves fully in the writing, that the authentic darkness of the edgy production shines through