This Old Man, Viking Theatre

The nursery rhyme came to mind on seeing the title of Gerard Lee's new play, the one about giving the dog a bone. The old man of Gerard Lee's play, Eamonn (John Olohan), growls like a dog whose bone is being taken away from him. A number of things get under his wick - the tight neighbour who wouldn't pay his half of the wall between their gardens, to what's on TV; even when mentioning that his wife passed, he grumbles about the phrase being 'too American', coming over as a man to whom giving out all his life is par for the course. Although his youngest daughter Denise (Paula Greevy Lee) sums him up in one story when he grumbled through each spoonful of soup, but rather than complain to the waiter, he ate it anyway. 

Eamonn lives alone in his own house, but he is gradually forgetting things, giving Carol (Deirdre Monaghan) fuel for her plans. Over time we see he is less and less in control of his own destiny. His two daughters have a sibling rivalry that goes back to their childhood, and remains to this day, even making derogatory comments about each others' husbands, the childishness of their rivalry visible for all. Denise is a nurse, and the kinder of the two, thinking about her father's feelings more, visiting and doing more for him than business woman, Carol, who is more about herself, getting the deal done, spending ten minutes with her father, while dropping a home truth to Denise. The split between what the sisters do and their feelings is a little but predictable, with the 'C' word of capitalism emerging, and no need to guess who loves it more. 

Lee injects a lot of great one liners into the proceedings that will bring out laughter to even the most stony hearted, including fart jokes liberally dropped throughout that always seem to go down well. The dialogue is crisp and Lee doesn't give too many lines to characters, making it feel natural yet theatrical at the same time, helped by a talented cast, that make the most out of their lines and parts without going over the top. That said, at times it does feel more soap opera, and maybe the first act is a scene or two too long, spelling everything out piece by piece, all played out on Andy Murray's sparse, yet effective, living room set. By the end of act one it all feels straight-forward, but with enough there to keep you wondering how it will all turn out. 

It is the second act that things become a bit more interesting, as the sparse set becomes simpler still, one bed and a chair. With classical music snippets played between each scene, which are never rushed, a good choice from director Ann Russell, there is an even better choice to open act two, even if the music makes you think it will be business as usual. A wonderful trio tableau is constructed, that gives an abstract, out of body, feel to it, showing the characters as connected through spoken word but disconnected at the same time,  never looking at each other, as if they were not in the same room at all, maybe not even in the same time, helped by the black set and the white bed clothes. In its unexpectedness, it adds a new layer to the play. 

The story itself is not new, but it is a story that plays itself out time and again, so not being new doesn't give it any less relevance. Nothing is rushed, and despite Eamonn's grumbling, he is more curmudgen than aggressive, similar to Victor Meldrew. Lee's play is pleasant, aided well by wonderful, atmospheric lighting once again from Colm Maher, and costumes that set the right tone for the right character, from Saoirse Lynch, and of course, the controlled, talented cast. But the directorial choices in act two adds wonderfully to the tale Lee is telling.