by How we succeed in the world is an act of faith – we take the words of others on trust. Brian Friel’s masterpiece, Faith Healer, first shown in 1979, during a violent period in Northern Ireland, is in part a study of what happens when one person’s story undermines another’s and the truth slips out of sight. Who to believe? And what can faith accomplish anyway? There is even the grim possibility that living itself, in some ways, would be a trick of confidence. In a careful, level-headed and earnest performance by Rachel O’Riordan, it’s wonderful to recall Friel’s wit and military intelligence from three actors who never meet on stage (unless very quickly until fro much contemporary drama. ), and to experience, through his various versions of the truth, a deja vu from his condition.
Does Frank Hardy, touring Wales and Scotland performing miracle cures, have a gift, or is he a fraud? It is a question he asks himself. He is convincingly played by Declan Conlon (and yes, the word has weight in context) wearing a black suit, a not-quite-respectable swagger. And Conlon seems to respect his character, and seems to want to give him the benefit of the doubt, to be a defender. He does not convey the charisma (the “special magnificence”) or the cruelty that Grace, his wife, describes – but then, how far are we to trust her account?
As Grace, Justine Mitchell is amazing. She inhabits the part so completely that it’s hard to imagine she could be playing – being – anyone else. You can see right away that Grace is in trouble. She sits like a grown up schoolgirl, with work day shoes and messy hair and a bottle of whiskey for company. She has a way of coming to terms with herself that seems to emerge from the pain, and she tells us about the burial of her stillborn child in a field in northern Scotland (Frank will later say, in a casual aside, that she “barren”). Like him, she uses a list of the names of the villages where he prayed, a sensation – Friel’s contact with the poet was soft.
Nick Holder is fantastic as Teddy’s cocky manager, Frank. Humpty Dumpty is a drunken, drunken man who is stuck to the bone, but more than ever belly laughs out of pathos. His favorite word is “awesome” and he repeatedly snaps his finger or holds up both hands as if to reassure us or to discourage us from trying to resist him. Colin Richmond’s thoughtful design is understated: faded rust announcing the show of faith healing; chairs as if in a church hall; anonymous space – more a state of mind than a precise location. However, the fictional town of Donegal, An Baile Beag, An Baile Beag and the homecoming of the faith healer, his final address, is the result of every road in this drama that is not lost.
You might assume that spending more than an hour in a bedroom with an unhappy teenager wouldn’t provide much entertainment. Especially after the first look at the bedroom itself, which is painted an alien mauve: an exhausted room without a view, designed by Jasmine Swan. But Rosie Day’s Instructions for Teenage Armageddonoriginally a novel and premiered by Day at Southwark Playhouse in 2022, it is reminiscent of Jacqueline Wilson’s children’s work and is witty and clever in its treatment of the unhappiness of a 15-year-old with traumatized him.
What makes the show special is that the girl, Eileen, holds the floor the whole time (it was monologue theater week). Charithra plays Chandran (de Bridgerton Heroes), and while her confidence fits oddly with her character’s assumed vulnerability, this could be defended as a classic teenage position. Her ragged hair is pulled tightly into a ponytail; she wears a scarlet patent leather DM, a striped shirt and blue jeans. She recently lost her sister Olive to anorexia. Olive is said to have died eating yorkshire pudding – a detail that introduces a slightly strained comedy, a false note, although you can see what Day is doing and why.
There’s more to this: lively morbidness, sharp teenage gags, smart-ass defenses. Lively directed by Georgie Staight, the production wraps in exchanges with Eileen’s parents and a friend (Shelley Conn, Philip Glenister, Isabella Pappas), but these well-acted scenes are interactions on video – a lengthening device that deepens the sense of adolescence. There are also audio clips from a scout leader, played by Maxine Peake with pitch-perfect condescension reminiscent of Joyce Grenfell’s classic Kindergarten comedy sketch: George, Don’t Do That.
Garnishes may be funny at times when they are not needed, but the liveliness ensures that the show is never dull. And Day has plenty of emotional insight, emphasizing how anorexia affects not only the sufferer but the entire family. Her play is written in such a way that Eileen’s grief for her sister is only gradually revealed through her defenses. And it’s amazing how some of the girls’ “friends” interrupt their grief as they privately bask in their self-righteousness. Chandran is brave in a well-written scene where the girl loses her virginity to a man she meets online. She disturbingly notes the collision between innocence and experience that can be a feature of growing up. Eileen complains that being an adult is like “telling people you’re okay even when you’re not”. “Fine” is an empty word, it turns out.
Star ratings (out of five)
Faith Healer ★★★★
Instructions for Teenage Armageddon ★★★
