Playwright Kevin Barry knows that when there’s nothing to do, sometimes there’s nothing better than to stare out your window and talk trash about your neighbors. And in the Irish Rep’s Autumn Royal—set in Cork city, Ireland—brother and sister Timmy (John Keating) and May (Maeve Higgins) have virtually nothing to do.
May spots Mary Coyne. “Ah, she have that…beefy kinda snout on her,” she snipes. “She’s like a calf after nuts.” Then there’s Dodo Hegarty, apparently a rather chunky girl. “Atein’ against the pain, I’d say. Poor Dodo,” she sniffs.
The thirtysomething Timmy and May want to get out and go somewhere—anywhere. May wears a sparkly top and tracksuit pants—does she want to go clubbing or run to the hills? One suspects she’d be happy either way. Meanwhile, Timmy watches motivational videos and dreams of escaping to Australia where he can surf, work in “financial services,” meet a “little blondie” wife, and have kids— “two would be grand…and there’ll be no sentimental Irishy-type names”—called Jason and Mary-Lou. (You can imagine May’s deflating response to Timmy’s absurd Aussie fantasy: “You surfed once in your life. In Myrtleville. In about four inches o’ water. And you dislocated your elbow.… And anyway, Tim? You’d look fucken cat altogether in a wetsuit. You’ve no arse, like.” Don’t mess with May, okay?)
Yet there’s the small matter of the unseen man—their aging father—rattling around upstairs with, as May so vividly describes it, “the little yella chickeny arse hangin’ out the back end of his peejays” and “the knees knockin’ together like Bambi On Ice.” Barry—a novelist (his Night Boat to Tangier was longlisted for the Booker Prize) and short story writer—is especially gifted when it comes to insults.
Then, a serene-sounding place called the Autumn Royal seems the answer to their prayers. “Nursin’ homes…They’re not for the old people at all, really,” muses May. “They’re for us.” (Something to remember if you and your family are ever thinking about packing granny off.) But of course—nothing’s that easy. Let’s just say it all ends with their dad’s aforementioned “yella chicken arse on full display” out in public. That, thankfully, goes unseen as well. “Though on a positive note,” Timmy adds, “he wasn’t interferin’ with himself.”
But even if their dad had lived happily ever after at the Autumn Royal, May and Timmy wouldn’t be content. They’re stuck in an endless spin cycle of bad memories and broken dreams—most of which involve their mother, who left for reasons that are still unclear. (Whenever a flashback is coming on, a washing machine—courtesy of Dan Scully’s wonderfully herky-jerky projections—revs up. Heavy-handed? Perhaps. But it’s effective.) “We’re never going to get past ourselves here, Tim,” May sighs.
The well-cast Keating and Higgins—quite believable as the squabbling siblings—do everything they can to bring Autumn Royal, which marks Barry’s U.S. theatrical debut, off the page. But ultimately, the one-liner-packed black comedy stays firmly planted in place—much like its main characters.
Autumn Royal opened Oct. 18, 2021, at the Irish Repertory Theatre and runs through Nov. 21. Tickets and information: irishrep.org
