Hangmen

“Hangmen” is unashamedly dark. In fact I can think of only one play I have seen in recent years that is darker and more uncompromising in its unexpected attacks on audiences' sensibilities. That happens to be “The Beauty Queen Of Leenane” also by Martin McDonagh. Despite its bleak ultra blackness the play surely stands at the forefront of British drama alongside Jez Butterworth’s “Jerusalem” in its innate power to engage, provoke, trouble and disturb. Not only this but  like ”Jerusalem '',  “Hangmen '' offers  rare opportunities for actors to perform out of their comfort zones enabling them to reach the heights of their skill.

As the play opens we are confronted by the chilling portrayal of a probably innocent man's last few minutes on earth vainly attesting to his innocence to a room of bored unresponsive grey suited men; representatives of the state. The moment Harry took a rubber cosh to silence Hennessey’s protestations the audience gasped. How right we were, all things considered, we say to ourselves, to abolish the death penalty for we, employers of these officials going about their jobs, are condoning their actions. Stephen Claxon as the condemned man did a fine job of shocking us. Such was his insistence of innocence that we were left with no doubt whatsoever that he was indeed so. But the governor and his henchman were looking forward to their dinners so let’s not have any more unwarranted delay. We hear the trap door open. The rest is silence.  Maybe there might have been a longer pause between Hennessey being dragged off to his execution and the sound of the inevitable deadly drop.  We knew what was coming so such a pause would have been almost intolerable in emphasising our sense of horror.

We are then transported to an authentic looking 60’s pub. It is the very day hanging was abolished. Here Harry, the cosher, now a landlord, holds court to his motley crew of regulars. He rules the roost, this is his domain absolutely  emphasised by his provocative in your face wearing of a bow tie. Steven Derbyshire held our attention throughout, we hung on his every word (or should that be hanged.) I always have a sense of eager anticipation when I know Steven is playing a major role in a Blackburn Drama Club production. His ability to create widely differing characters with consummate skill is remarkable. Although we are lured into thinking Harry is one self-serving bigot Steven showed us his hidden inner feeling: even a hint of contrition at the play's conclusion as his beloved bow-tie comfort blanket dangles around his neck.Syd, Harry’s erstwhile assistant, was played with precision by Clive Stack. His is a supporting role and must be shown to be. His attempt at getting one over Harry was played with a natural ease allowing us to see a little of this character’s brand of darkness too. 

Dominic Dyer, Gary Waugh, Will Gedling and Nicholas Ainsworth all added to the success of the piece supplying observational comments when allowed to by Harry. As the representative of the justice system Inspector Fry, Trevor Robins, created a man perfectly content to cocoon himself with an uneasy veneer of professional detachment. Anita Shaw as Alice gave a convincing portrait of a sixties landlady. Almost at the beck and call of Harry, her husband, Anita was the one character on stage with whom one could actually attempt to empathise. Her 15 year old daughter, Shirley thrown unasked into this den of masculinity was played neatly by Jennifer Whiteside. I remember the question being asked on some tv programme, “who was Albert Pierrpoint?” After a few moments of thought the contestant answered, ``I am pretty sure he was a fast bowler for Kent”. I have no idea as to Richard Hubbard’s prowess as a cricketer  but his interpretation of the last senior hangman was not wide of the mark. Posing resolutely with one foot perched firmly on a chair and holding centre stage he left us in no doubt that he was mightily put out by Harry’s interview in the Oldham Gazette. Coming in to the action at such a late stage demands absolute conviction from the player. Richard’s casting was a clever move. Benjamin Ashworth and Graham Haworth both added spice to the mix.

Yet there is one character above all others, who in the hands of Martin McDonagh is sent on stage to beguile and bamboozle his way into our brains. Mooney arrives from the south immediately antagonising the locals with his strange manners and ideas. A character darker than Vantablack, he thrills and confuses in equal measure. Paddy Darnell-Walsh played the part of his life so far. Jacqui Mooney and Shirley Watson had costumed him magnificently complete with a fetching wig that would have in 1965 marked him out to be a rebel such was its length. He has a unique way of committing suicide. This is where the genius of McDonagh  comes to the fore. We are asked to conclude that we do not care about what happens to Mooney. He gets what he came for. Yet at the same time we are witnessing the death of someone, who contrary to the other pub goers beliefs, is not in fact guilty of abducting Shirley. Our sense of outrage and injustice boils over. Then we are drawn back in our minds to the opening scene chiding ourselves for not being even more outraged at the unwarranted execution of Hennessey.

Direction by Martin Cottam was first class. It would have been easy in the hands of lesser mortals to produce this play to be “almost there”, yet  if that were to have been the case its power would have been diluted to that of a dodgy greyish coloured farce.

My congratulations to everyone who played a part in bringing “Hangmen” to life in such a satisfying manner. This was theatre at its best, even if Martin McDonagh does himself contend  drama to be his least admired art form.

PRM.

 

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