Monday, March 10, 2008

L. of Inish...

... began by intentionally and obviously opening up a new conclusion for the parable of the good Samaritan. Donney, an Irish lad inclined to sniff shoe polish and daydreaming, upon finding a battered cat in the road, doesn't pass by like, come to find out, he should, but instead picks up the thing and turns a dining room table into its hospital bed. This, as the play continues, will prove to be a mistake that will cause a gross amount of blood to later color the stage - and so from the beginning we see the "good Samaritan," Donney, not being so celebrated. Further, instead of being celebrated, the ensuing treatment of Donney the tenderhearted cat-carer brings a Lennon tune to mind: "If you had the luck of the Irish, you'd be sorry and wish you were dead..."
And death wishes - or, rather, death warrants - came quickly. Not just your neighbor's cat, the battered cat in the road turned out to be the very beloved cat of one crazed Padriac, member of the Irish Republican Army and notorious madman. What agony Padriac inflicted on those who happened on his bad side was the equivalent of the affection he dealt and felt for his cat.
So the play continues, absurdly piling up futile efforts to escape what was presented as inevitable violence and efforts by others to inflict violence. By the end of it, the "luck of the Irish" was Irish luck indeed, when, after five or so deaths and a kitchen "repainted" red, Padriac's cat meows and crawls from the kitchen corner. Thus the cat who sparked the triggers was not the Helen-of-Cat at all, and what very small reasons for gratuitous violence the play and characters presented were dismissed by the curtain fall as even more absurd.

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