When it opened in Dublin in 1964, Philadelphia, Here I Come! was playwright Brian Friel’s first major success, and for good reason. It ranks right up there as a masterwork alongside any of Chekhov’s classics. And with shades of Death of a Salesman, The Glass Menagerie and Long Day’s Journey into Night, it features the dreary and sometimes comically claustrophobic existence of families stuck in limbo. Philadelphia… is set in just one day, actually one night and early the next morning. But in such a short time, Friel presents a world of pain, love, memory and hope. And happily, the Irish Rep production helmed by Ciarán O’Reilly captures the great play in all its tragicomic glory.
To tell his story, Friel came up with a clever device. His protagonist Gar, short for Gareth, is played by two actors. There’s “Gar Public” (David McElwee) the character interacting with the others onstage, and “Gar Private” (A.J. Shively) representing Gar’s innermost thoughts. The two men work brilliantly in tandem riffing off one another with the kind of effortless abandon that makes you think they’ve been at it all their lives. In fact, the entire cast – all 12 of them – perform at a comfort level that feels like they’d rehearsed together for many months.
Set in 1962, the play takes place in Friel’s fictional town of Ballybeg, described as a “backwater” caught in a vacuum of routine and old world stoicism. Feelings – any emotion good or bad – are stifled to the point of non-existence. And that is the bleak climate 25 year old Gar and his inner self begrudgingly inhabit. When we first see him, he gleefully sings “Philadelphia, here I come” (substituting Philadelphia for California in the popular song) as he celebrates his last night in Ireland ahead of a much anticipated move to America.
[Read Sandy MacDonald’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
But that opening scene betrays Gar’s true feelings as he struggles to come to terms with saying goodbye to the only home he’s known. For all the colorless tedium in his life, he’s terribly conflicted about leaving. At the heart of his ambivalence is his father, an old codger whom Gar secretly nicknamed Screwballs – his mundane life marked by unrelenting monotony.
Even as Gar is about to leave the country, his father still goes about his daily predictable routine, seeming to show no interest or care that his son is about to leave the country. It’s a source of deep frustration and sadness for Gar as he spends his last hours in Ballybeg, despairing one minute and fantasizing about life in America the next. The fantasies are staged to perfection with the two Gars animatedly imitating American icons – Elvis, cowboys, scenes from Hollywood movies, and on and on. The two actors are sensational, revealing tremendous versatility as they jump from one stereotype to the next and it’s hugely entertaining.
Comedy aside, this is a memory play for the most part as Gar ponders the life he’s about to leave behind. In a painful flashback, we see him lose the love of his life, Katie (Clare O’Malley) as she ended up marrying a wealthier man. Gar’s old schoolmaster (Patrick Fitzgerald) pays a visit describing America as “a vast, restless place” marked by impermanence and anonymity. Gar’s friends stop by as well in a scene making clear they too are caught in a sorry cycle of sameness. A directorial flourish in which we see the lads simultaneously pouring beer into their glasses emphasizes the point. And the local priest comes over for his usual game night with “Screwballs”, barely acknowledging it’s Gar’s last day.
It becomes more and more bittersweet as the fateful hour draws near. Gar constantly thinks about his young mother who died shortly after his birth. Only the no-nonsense Madge, the housekeeper, who practically raised him, seems sorry to see him go. She is all too aware that the old man has not dealt with Gar’s departure. With the driest sense of humor, Terry Donnelly is excellent in the role. She speaks volumes with the subtlest of gestures – a nudge, an eyeroll, a tilt of the head – revealing a deeply troubled heart.
Another standout in the production is Deirdre Madigan’s hysterically loopy turn as Aunt Lizzy in a flashback scene visiting from Philadelphia with her husband. Childless, she desperately wants her only nephew to move in with them. It’s a terrific performance, making the point that for some at least, family is indeed forever.
O’Reilly does bravura work both directing and portraying the hardened Screwballs. The veteran artist clearly knows the play all too well. Every scene, every character is crafted with a precise touch and he adds nuanced dimension in the most unexpected ways. The combined effect makes the production feel much bigger than the Irish Rep’s cramped stage might at first suggest. Kudos as well to set designer Charlie Corcoran and costumer Orla Long for capturing just the right tone in setting place and time.
The play comes to a head as Gar returns to a persistent memory of his childhood – the only time he ever felt a warm connection with his father. He finally builds up the nerve to ask his father if he remembers that happy moment. That brief encounter is as close to communicating with each other as they’ve ever done. I’ll say no more except that Gar eventually abandons any hope of salvaging a relationship with the old man, bitterly remembering his old schoolmaster’s words; “Impermanence – anonymity – that’s what I’m looking for; a vast restless place that doesn’t give a damn about the past”.
There is a rather surprising revelation at play’s end, a fitting if heartbreaking conclusion rendered in an altogether wonderful production that tells us the past does matter. Along with it, memories that must be spoken and shared if there is any hope for a life well lived.
Philadelphia Here I Come opened March 24, 2024, at the Irish Repertory Theatre and runs through May 5. Tickets and information: irishrep.org
