The Beauty Queen of Leenane

It’s not often that you have the pleasure of seeing a production in which the cast set fire to their props.  In this case, it was the cantankerous, controlling Mags (Karen Fitzsimmons) setting fire to a letter meant for her daughter, then dropping it into the firebox of the kitchen range.  Fire wasn’t the only realistic feature of the Irish cottage set; there were practical doors on either side of a glazed kitchen window, an electric cooker and, next to it, a deep porcelain sink with running water.  Porridge was prepared and consumed on the set.  (Whilst the radio and TV were not live, the sound plot encapsulated them very realistically.)  If time and money had allowed, I’m sure director Norma York would have had the cottage built out of stone and given spiders time to build real webs.

The pace of Martin McDonagh’s writing is beautifully judged.  We don’t see a build-up of tension between Maureen (Rachel O’Neill) and her mother, instead, as soon as Maureen enters it is clear that we are watching mutual antagonism built up over the years that she has been Mags’ sole carer.  A late flowering romance between Maureen and her neighbour, Pato Dooley (Steve Clarke) seems to offer Maureen a lifeline, however Pato entrusts his letter for Maureen to his younger brother.  The feckless Ray (Andrew Leckie) who has watched too much Australian television, instead delivers the letter to Mags, consigning it to the flames and the play to its tragic conclusion.

The playing was first rate.  Karen Fitzimmons’ every movement spoke of age and infirmity, whilst her every utterance was manipulative.  (She was also responsible for a collective noise - something like “euch” - from the audience as she emptied the chamber pot into the sink.)  The romance between Maureen and Pato, who have been too shy to speak to one another for most of their lives, was tender and moving, and a total contrast to Maureen’s perpetual clash with her mother.  Pato’s embarrassment when Mags discovered him in the kitchen after spending the night in the cottage was a thing of joy; a sharp piece of writing played to perfection.

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