The Cripple of Inishmaan

In a world where some will doubtless be put off or offended by the mere presence of the 'c-word' in the title of this play, Martin McDonagh's writing aims to confront our sensibilities at the same time as tickling our funny bones. That he succeeds as well in this as he does is a testament to his singular talent. Politeness and political correctness are off the table in a McDonagh script; this writer sees the world as so full of cruelty and injustice that we simply must laugh to stay sane.

Part of what makes The Cripple of Inishmaan confronting at times is the fact that a good deal of the loudest laughter within the play itself is directed toward the title character, a seemingly blameless young lad who may have unusual interests and habits, and who may possess physical handicaps, but who yearns for his fair share of love and respect, much as we all do. Whether he manages to gain them by the end of the play is not for this reviewer to reveal...

Director Kerrin White is correct to say that this is a gentle piece of theatre by McDonagh standards. For this reason alone, it would be an ideal introduction to the writer for newcomers of all ages. The central character, while by no means a conventional protagonist, is unquestionably sympathetic; the language, while frequently cheeky and rude, is relatively jovial; and (spoiler alert?) no one is dead by the time the curtain goes down.

Of course, the fact that we're all going to die one day, some of us sooner (and with more accomplishments behind us) than others, can be reason enough to either stop trying and pack it all in, or to grab every opportunity for a better life that may present itself. Cripple Billy is one of a number of McDonagh protagonists who are faced with these limited-yet-high-stake options in their lives; watching him valiantly trying to determine (or at least retain a minimum of control over) his own fate makes here for a riveting (and often riotously funny) experience.

The ensemble cast could scarcely be better or more well-chosen. Matt Houston continues his sterling run of memorable portrayals with a title character that you're sure to love, not through the kind of facile cuteness that a lesser writer may have indulged in, but simply because Houston's Billy is a creation that wants, needs, and deserves your affection.

John Leigh Gray is in peak comic form as the archetypal doddering busybody Johnnypateenmike, and Eleanor Boyd is a scream as his less-than-dearly-beloved Mammy. Sue Wylie and Tracey Walker are a delightful double act playing Eileen and Kate, while Benjamin Maio Mackay brings great energy and humour to the role of Bartley. Ben Todd does nicely in his brief but important contributions as Doctor McSharry, while Alan Fitzpatrick gives his character Babbybobby an impressively unnerving combination of outward amiability and interior menace.

Making a tremendous impact playing Helen - a part both crucial and juicy - is Mary Rose Angley; it is the task of both her and Houston at show's climax to carry the emotional load of the play and steer the audience toward a conclusion that both satisfies and makes sense. Kudos to both performers for achieving this; kudos, in fact, are due to the entire team, on-stage and off.

If you're an Adelaide theatre-goer who enjoys being entertained as well as challenged, who loves being swept up in the skills of a superb storyteller, and who wants to see a technically amateur cast performing at a standard that is practically professional, you really can't afford to miss The Cripple of Inishmaan.

Review by Anthony Vawser

Photographer: Norm Caddick