Mortal Sin

Benjamin Reilly and Isolde Fenton in Mortal Sin. Image, Daniel Byrne

****

Straitjacketed by a choking Irish Catholicism, life loving friends, Colm and Peggy, live lives of quiet desperation. Like the restrictiveness of Peggy’s buttoned up cardigan, they can barely breathe in holy Catholic Ireland. Colm’s a ‘fairy’ and Peggy defiant in a place where fear thrives when good people do nothing, and family do worse. Usually in the name of goodness. In Benjamin Reilly’s darling Mortal Sins times are a changin’ even as the song resists to remain the same. Revolving around a student protest for a day off school in 1963 following the death of John F. Kennedy, two teenage outsiders in a rural Catholic community give humorous voice to assertive women and their men friends who like men. Peggy’s protest a thin thread on which to hang reflections on where we are, where we were, and the journey that took us here. Mortal Sin speaking to the civil and cultural unrest of Ireland’s liberating Sixties that looked backward when it came to moving forward. Even though many went on to achieve the impossible dream, often it came at a price.

Benjamin Reilly and Isolde Fenton in Mortal Sin. Image, Daniel Byrne

Structurally, Reilly’s storytelling hybrid of monologues and dialogue sets up a contrast between show and tell that leans heavily into novel territory. Yet if showing proves stronger than telling, often it's not by much. Aside from a contextually heavy first half whose expositional monologues sets the scene with nothing much happening. Mortal Sin much more satisfying when characters show themselves in sparkling dialogue. The hilariously touching shifting scene, or the revealing sin dunes scene both superbly thoughtful and tender. Reilly's cross pollination of the final, bittersweet monologues showing superb technical innovation as the future finally arrives. Even so, Mortal Sin is far more successful as character studies, and a study of the Irish character of the time, than a story. Showing touches of Edna O’Brien and Maeve Binchy, rarely has a play compressed so much history into so little time and done it so brilliantly. Monologue versus dialogue, the holy past versus the secularised future creating tensions director Lee Coffey navigates beautifully. Crafting two nuanced performances that shift seamlessly between the script’s competing demands. Reilly and Isolde Fenton, as the gentle, mental Colm and the girl power Peggy, seducing irrevocably with endearingly engaging performances.

Benjamin Reilly and Isolde Fenton in Mortal Sin. Image, Daniel Byrne

Visually, it takes a moment to appreciate Jenny Whyte’s supremely clever design. Bewley’s black box walls painted in summer azure with dark, tumbling clouds dominates a floor strewn with charity shop memorabilia. As if Whyte had delivered the props, painted the wall but lazily opted not to build the set. But Whyte proves immeasurably smarter than that. The expansive, blue skied vista with turbulent foreboding indicates the troubled future. Meanwhile, in the basement of history, littered with the bric a brac of the collapsing past, the cloying mustiness of the not so good old days clings, coated in dusty nostalgia. All the while Eoin Byrne’s hard working lights deliver superb atmospheric ambience whilst unevenly navigating the demands of lighting individual characters and their joint scenes, the latter proving far more successful.

Benjamin Reilly and Isolde Fenton in Mortal Sin. Image, Daniel Byrne

Like the playful love child of Eugene O’Brien’s Eden and Karl Geary’s Juno Loves Legs, Mortal Sin proves telling and irresistible. True, it’s not theatrical fine dining. Rather, it’s afternoon tea. A simple treat made from simple, fresh ingredients whose presentation is as deceptively delicious as its delicate pastries. Never battering you with superfluous detail, nor insulting your intelligence by spelling out the obvious, such as why Colm’s future became what it was, Mortal Sin is smart and engaging and assumes its audience is too. Confirming Coffey as a director growing from strength to strength and Reilly as a serious talent to watch out for, Mortal Sin is a heartfelt delight. Deserving to run and run, Mortal Sin proves deeply satisfying and deeply enjoyable. As mortal sins often are. 

Mortal Sin by Benjamin Reilly, runs at Bewley’s Café Theatre until September 6.

For more information visit Bewley’s Café Theatre.