Dublin Fringe Festival 2025: The Chalice

Mallory Adams in The Chalice. Image by Jilly McGrath

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What do we mean by culture? Heritage? Legacy? Inheritance? What do we mean by Irish? In Bridget Leahy’s thought provoking The Chalice those who left, stayed, and those who came to Ireland collide in a deceptively serious comedy about who we think we are. One that, for fifty minutes, serves up a delightfully smart tale of a speaking chalice worth a fortune and those trying to lay claim to it. Who, in the process, try lay claim to what being Irish means. If only Leahy hadn't over egged the comic and tragic omelette. Leahy held to account by a subtle yet brilliant final image.

Set in real time, aside from a trip to mediaeval Ireland, two distant Gallagher relatives, Nancy and Joseph, negotiate when an ancient chalice is uncovered on Joseph's property as a result of an ancestral letter discovered by Nancy. A pink topped, pill popping Californian with mounting hospital bills, Nancy makes Amanda Seyfried’s character in Mean Girls sound like a genius. Joseph, having a chip on the chip on his shoulder, resents having stayed behind to look after the farm as his brother and all his other mates bailed for the highlife in Australia. The distant cousins chemistry as they spar for the upper hand, in an old cottage at the twilight of evening, evoking the playful charm of an Ealing comedy. Until the unexpected arrival of Grace, an officer for the OPW with Filipino heritage. A ramrod of wronged righteousness, Grace is less a character so much as a moral mouthpiece reciting her outrage like a Government pamphlet. Energy further sapped by The Chalice stumbling down a rabbit hole into an unnecessary comedy sketch about monks. Before imposing a polemic on sexual and racist abuse unconvincingly wedged in. Leading to a weak ending, despite deft comic touches with the magical chalice, that staggers across the finish line. The whole redeemed by Leahy’s powerful final moment.

Mallory Adams, Rhea Rose Rodillias and Stephen O'Leary in The Chalice. Image by Jilly McGrath

Under Jeda de Bri’s direction The Chalice delivers an enjoyable comedy exploring ideas about who and what we are. Yet The Chalice ultimately falls short of its own potential. Aside from Ben Moore’s superb set peppered with salient details, illuminated exquisitely by Hannah Bevan’s lighting. The chemistry between Nancy and Joseph also crackling. Stephen O'Leary's suspicious farmer a perfect foil for Mallory Adams in a detailed comic turn as Irish American Nancy who’s way smarter, and dumber, than she first appears. Adams giving a crowning comic performance that compensates for things getting narratively slack and thematically overcooked. Rhea Rose Rodillas steps up to the thankless task of playing an ethic rather than a character, being all blame, no game. Revealing in the monk scene, and the final poignant moment, they’ve much more to offer

Had The Chalice remained true to its lighthearted comic stylings its power might have affected its audience in deeper ways. Instead, power is diluted for opting for the forced and contrived when it didn't need it, and pays the price. Even so, there’s much to enjoy here. Not least Adams, who delivers a sensational comic performance. And a poetic final image of understated power, it shows what Leahy is really capable of.

The Chalice by Brigid Leahy, runs as part of Dublin Fringe Festival 2025 at The New Theatre until September 20.

For more information visit Dublin Fringe Festival 2025