The Mariner, Gate Theatre, Dublin

"Everybody wanted war and nobody got the war they wanted...Nobody wants the war they bring home." This is uttered by Sally in the world premiere of Hugo Hamilton's The Mariner and in a way it is the core of the piece, for Peter, the mariner of the title, has taken part in the Battle of Jutland in the North Sea, sustained injuries and is now back home in West Cork in 1916, in the wake of The Easter Rising. He is unable to speak, but as time moves on and he finds his voice, his personality shows. Doubts arise in his Mother, Mrs Shanley, who wonders if this is her son and wants to find out, reminiscent of the tale of Martin Guerre. But doesn't war change people, and don't people change, anyway? Or is it simply the war Peter has brought back? It is this mystery and doubt that drives the play. 

Our first glimpse of Peter, never overplayed or simplified by Sam O'Mahony, particularly in the early stage, is sitting on a wooden chair in full navy uniform, head bandaged, covering everything but his face. Sally, his wife, is simply happy to have her husband back, and does her best to spark off the old memories in him, her joy and worry given strong and sympathetic life by Lisa Dwyer Hogg, while Ingrid Craigie's Mrs Shanley is more pragmatic, concerned with what happened, his pension and his standing. But doubts arise, creating the intensive, tautness that permeates the whole play and creates the intrigue.

All of this is inside a dark, hulking, atmospheric set designed by Joe Vanek, the feel and look of a ship's bowels, while the suspended, lower ceiling add to that feeling of pressure exerting itself down on the characters. The actors never leave the stage, standing in corners, in the shadows, when not involved. The whole stage is used well, with only a few props and three actors, but it never feels empty, there is always movement, flowing like the sea itself. They hold the tension well, in what is a slow build up, always aware of a sense of foreboding, even when welcoming back The Mariner. Some moments burst from the stage with the great interaction between Craigie and Dwyer Hogg. Sinead McKenna's lighting design add to this foreboding, a sheer whiteness covering the characters when they talk directly to us, giving us needed back story; greyness and the idea of the ebbing sea reminding us of the mystery. 

This study of people is rendered skillfully and artistically, directed by Patrick Mason, who keeps a firm hand on the reins to ensure it doesn't go out of control or run out of steam, while Joan O'Clery's costumes emphasise both time and characters; grey for Mrs Shanley, flowing, soft tones for Sally, contrasting visually the difference in the two. Sound and music is provided by Denis Clohessy, a piano motif and effects that evoke the ideas in the piece.

From time to time Hamilton sheds light as to life on the boat, relating aspects of the story in terms of the reality of war, reminding us of the conditions they were under while at sea, a far cry from the images of sailors leaving the docks in the beginning. Hamilton himself, from the programme notes, retells of finding a picture and medals of an Irish Grandfather who fought for the Royal Navy in World War One, something he had no idea about. It of course sums up the attitude for many, many years to people who did fight. Bringing their part to the fore is always a very good thing. But this is not about his Grandfather, but there is resonance, inspiration, for Hamilton. It does remind us that the impact of war goes far beyond its conclusion.

It is a well written, intense production, skillfully put together, with solid performances from all, happy to take its time to let all the pieces unfold until its final conclusion. It is a taut work, with a mystery that will hold you and keep you wondering until the end.