Stuart Graham, Owen Roe and Ingrid Craigie in Gate Theatre production of 'DA' by Hugh Leonard. Photographer Peter Rowen
The Stanley range that sits squarely on The Gate stage conjured up a several emotions as soon as the lights come up on Ben Stones’ set. The first thought that came was ‘Oh no, here we are in an Irish kitchen again…” The second came from a warmer, more socially acceptable and rather less accurate place than cynicism: memory. The recollection came to me of my Nana’s kitchen, where the cream Stanley range was installed as a sort of demi-god, a little furnace that we leaned on for warmth, that cooked dinners and that, if displeased, raised blisters on your fingers. So there we have it: clichéd at first appearance, but also quite true. Herein lies the charm of Hugh Leonard’s Da.
For although the characters are immediately identifiable they also manage to be much more than stereotypes; they are rounded and unique characters that are understandable without being simplistic. Owen Roe’s performance in the title role is so effortless that at times it seems hard to believe that he is not being himself (I am not personally acquainted with Mr. Roe, however, so do tell me otherwise). Tadhg Murphy as Young Charlie hits the right balance between a justified indignation and one that is merely youth-induced, while Ingrid Craigie’s Mother reveals well-timed moments of vulnerability to soften her hardness. John Kavanagh’s unrelenting deadpan, however, made Drumm a personal highlight. The cast’s comic timing was spot-on as a whole, making for constant stream of laugh aloud moments.
Perhaps it is because Da is semi-autobiographical that Leonard has managed to create such a streamlined play of past and present, populated with characters that seem so tangible. Not that High Leonard’s writing is flawless; indeed the second act seems to take a hop, skip and jump to bring us to Charlie’s present life. His changes from filing clerk to writer, Ireland to London are never entirely explained, leaving the gap between young and old Charlies somewhat unreconciled.
Da may not be a new story, but it is its details of truth that make it both familiar and distinct.
Clara Kumagai
