OTR review: Dancing at Lughnasa

Successfully executing a memory play is no easy feat, however, the cast of Dancing at Lughnasa commendably transported its audience back to 1930s Ireland, complete with semi-flawless Irish accents no […]


Successfully executing a memory play is no easy feat, however, the cast of Dancing at Lughnasa commendably transported its audience back to 1930s Ireland, complete with semi-flawless Irish accents no less!

Any frequenter of student theatre in St Andrews is no stranger to the intimate space of the Barron, and with a modest set, Beth Robertson created one of the most efficient transformations of the Barron I’ve seen here thus far. Instead of using flats which can give the feel of further boxing in its small space or opting for a minimalist look, leaving the black walls bare, a clothes-line full of sheets was hung across the back of the theatre, giving the Barron a surprisingly natural feel. Dim lighting and the live music of the ceilidh band in the wings also aided the aesthetic experience, all blending together to give a truly dreamy feel of an Irish summer.

Dancing at Lughnasa is not a show that can get by with mediocre acting, and the five actors comprising the Mundy sisters, who carry the bulk of the performance, did an excellent job at portraying the many painful realisations of impending hardships, as well as the more fleeting moments of high-spirited carelessness. Perhaps the most complex role was that of the eldest sister, Kate, and Carly Brown was phenomenal in depicting the intricacies of this bitter, constricted woman who strives to adhere to a Catholic lifestyle, yet at the same time, desperately yearns to be rid of the responsibilities she’s been burdened with. An unforgettable moment of this turmoil came when the sisters halt their work to indulge themselves in dancing along to a song on the radio. At first, Kate appears appalled at her sister’s heedless behaviour, but then her foot begins to tap along, and the look on her face shows both incredible temptation as well as a struggle to subdue it before she finally jumps out of her seat in a whirlwind to join the others.

Ayanna Coleman believably embodied the frailty of Christina, a woman continually on the verge of falling into another depression. Whereas Charlie Martin as Maggie soothed instances of tension with her intersperses of singing and hopefulness despite the situation. Florence Templeton delivered an equally strong performance as Agnes, even whilst remaining more quiet and reserved than her counterparts. But though Danielle Hollreiser’s performance as Rose, the simple, child-like sister, was endearing, her overly eccentric demeanour felt somewhat unnatural, which noticeably contrasted with the more subtle acting of the other sisters, and continually pulled me out of the performance.

As Father Jack, their ill and confused brother who has just returned home from missionary work in Africa, David Patterson stole the attention each time he was on stage. Comedic, yet not to an overdone extent, following scenes that seemed to lag, such as many of Sam Peach’s monologues as Michael, it was Patterson’s presence that kept the show moving forward. As per usual, Ben Anderson’s performance was also one of comic relief. Though his characterization of Gerry Evans was, if anything, a bit unrealised, it was a role he had assumed in the last minute, and to his credit, this was skilfully concealed from the audience.

Both the acting and aesthetics of Dancing at Lughnasa rendered it a memorable performance, despite slower-moving moments, which are understandable with such a lengthy and dramatic play. In tribute to how well it was done, I left the theatre considering the future and the past, as well as yearning to dance, and visit Ireland in the summer.

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