Dancing At Lughnasa
February 26 - March
30, 2003
Rubicon Theatre Company
Ventura, California
Rose... Karyl Lyn Burns
Chris... Precious Chong
Kate... Susan Clark
Maggie... Bonnie Franklin
Gerry... Joseph Fuqua
Uncle Jack... Michael O'Hagan
Michael... James O'Neil
Agnes... Stephanie Zimbalist
Directed by Jenny Sullivan
It is true
today, just most certainly as it was true in the 1930's of
Dancing at Lughnasa, that Ireland exists at a wistful - and
sometimes mad - crossroads. One makes a seasonal pilgrimage
to pagan festivals after Sunday church services. Voices are
raised in earthy airs, just as they join with others in
hymns. Morning prayers bless homes, sanctified with a light
rain of holy water; while during harvest nights in the
forest, blazing fires stoke an abandon to Lugh, an ancient
god of Light. It puts the Irish on a unique temporal plane -
neither living purely in the past, nor absolutely in the
present - but in both at the same time. This poetic alchemy
of time occasionally creates a stubborness, but often a
selflessness, an art of life and a resilient grace; but
mostly a capacity for hope.
In the
turbulent times of 1936, the five unmarried Mundy sisters
live in a modest croft at the heart of a rugged farm outside
Ballybeg, a small town in Donegal. The imperious teacher
Kate, the irreverent big-hearted keeper of the hearth
Maggie, the serene familial rudder Agnes, the sweetly
eccentric and simple-minded Rose, and the lonely romantic
Christina, who has creased the family reputation with an
illegitimate son; all are heavenly bodies revolving around
the 8-year old love child, Michael.
Dancing at
Lughnasa is told from his memories, summoning back to the
end of that summer, on the eve of celebration to the harvest
diety Lugh, god of music and light. But the celebration of
the film . . . the music and the light of it . . . really
lives within the sisters, a gift they share with each other
and the ones they love. In the Mundy household, they are
simultaneously the storm and the buoy, a sharp judgment will
always give way to loving forgiveness, a reproach is merely
a prelude to a song or a cup of tea or an act of kindness.
They are a family marked by the unfailing courage they
possess for each other. But now it is on the threshhold of
autumn, where events will conspire to irretrievably change
the golden season of the Mundy's.
The croft
bustles as the sisters prepare to meet their older brother
Jack, a priest returning home after 25 years in the dark
continent of Africa where he was sent by the Church to
convert remote heathen tribes. But their pride is
temporarily deflated as a frail and disoriented Jack totters
off the bus, his makeshift luggage hording pagan African
artifacts and memorabilia. Jack's embrace of exotic cultures
has alienated the Church, upon which all aspects of local
life depend. But Jack seems to glow with simple grace of
human passion, and innocently revels in the creation of
Michael, a creature who exists purely from love without
obligation.
The male
presence is compounded when Michael's father, Gerry Evans
unexpectedly arrives with the disquieting rumble of his
motorbike. Gerry is a searcher/wanderer, a dreamer whose
journey constantly changes destination and brings him into
the orbit of his son so sporadically the boy fails to
recognize him. This brief sojourn is merely an interlude on
Gerry's path to Spain, where he plans to join International
Brigade against Franco. But it is enough time to forge an
awkward bond with his son, to excavate the hidden wisdom of
Jack, and to spark an independent abandon in the sisters
that has laid dormant under years of duty and service.
Dancing at
Lughnasa breathes through the festival of Lughnasa, the
brilliant images of African customs that Jack imposes on the
misty farm, and the kites that Michael chases, wonderfully
decorated by his own hand - an early artistic vision that
will later allow him to so eloquently recall a family to
whom fate has dealt a severe blow. They meet their fate
bravely. The memories of that summer in 1936 haunt Michael
into manhood. Memories of love and loss. And of the women
dancing, in a final celebration of life before it changed
forever.
