Reviewed by J. Cooper Robb for Theatre Reviews Limited

When they make the film version of Martin McDonagh's award winning play "The Beauty Queen of Leenane," the adaptation to screen should be a simple process. McDonagh, who for all his theatrical success remains primarily interested in film, makes his fascination with movies apparent in the highly cinematic "Beauty Queen." The play is an extraordinarily dark comedy, which echoes the films of Hitchcock, particularly the classic "Psycho." However, where Hitchcock's film is a horrific treatment on the oedipal complex, McDonagh for the most part eschews psychology in favor of a more straightforward approach. McDonagh remarks in Philadelphia Theatre Company's dramaturgical guide "Playwise" that "People should leave a theater with the same feeling you get after a really good rock concert." And he succeeds. "Beauty Queen" at times plays like the heavy metal band AC/DC on a particularly rowdy night.

The 29 year old McDonagh, who for the past several years has been the wunderkind of English Theater, writes plays faster than it takes some people to compose a letter. He penned "Beauty Queen" in a little more than a week and is now the author of seven full-length plays including "The Leenane Trilogy" of which "Beauty Queen" is the first installment. The play concerns mother and daughter Mag and Maureen who are holed up together in their tiny home in the poor, rural Irish countryside. To put it mildly Mag gets on her daughter's nerves, and Maureen longs for any sort of companionship other than her forever demanding and complaining mother. However, she is confined in this little hellhole (well represented by Christine Jones' claustrophobic set) with a mother who will do anything to retain her one companion. Besides, all the eligible men in town have run off to either England or America in search of work.

McDonagh's dialogue is like a firecracker with a short fuse, yet in the Philadelphia Theatre Company's production director Maria Mileaf somewhat dampens the proceedings with her unusually subtle touch. This penchant for restraint served Mileaf beautifully in PTC's earlier production of Paula Vogel's controversial drama "How I Learned to Drive," but in "Beauty Queen" subtlety tends to tame the play's wicked and explosive comedy. However, while Mileaf's approach softens the play to a certain degree, it does not render it totally impotent. "Beauty Queen" lends itself to a variety of interpretations and it could be argued that by not charging right out of the gate, Mileaf is allowing the production to simmer to a dangerous boil, making the play's second act all the more startling. Yet, at the outset the antagonistic mother and daughter who have lived together for years are oddly coy and secretive towards each other. The production's rhythm is more Chopin than Sex Pistols; it's like the characters are waltzing in a mosh pit. And as the events develop in what should be a sustained momentum of rising tension and fear, it instead results in only a brief gasp of horrific revelation.

Even with the production's difficulties, McDonagh has crafted an amazingly resilient play. The show still packs quite a punch, and though I may not agree with her strategy, throughout Mileaf sticks to her plan, resulting in a production that is both fluid and cohesive. Furthermore, the performances of the four actors are always competent and at times terrific. Isa Thomas is effective as the loathsome and self-obsessed Mag, yet she is not as funny or maddening as could be. Likewise, Almo Cuervo is quite good in her scenes with her dream man Plato, but she lacks the intensity necessary for the currently dormant yet still potentially volatile Maureen. Liam Craig is a tad over the top as Plato's slightly dim TV-junkie brother Ray, but Boris McGiver is superb as the angelic Plato. Playing a sweet character is always a difficult task, but McGiver gives such an honest performance that he endears himself to the audience without being ridiculously divine. He's the perfect foil for the play's other highly dysfunctional characters, and in his menial job and meager existence in England he embodies the displacement of Irish culture.

Similar to his "The Cripple of Innishmaan", McDonagh here addresses the loss of Ireland's identity. In "Cripple" it is the intrusion of an American film crew on the ancient seaside villages of Ireland and Billy's subsequent ill-fated trip to Hollywood, while "Beauty Queen" employs television and the disappearance of the Gaelic language to symbolize the assimilation of the Irish people. These issues have been examined before in the works of Irish playwrights J.M. Synge ("Playboy of the Western World") and Brian Friel's remarkable "Translations", though McDonogh's "Beauty Queen" is working in a different vein than Synge's and Friel's sobering works. For all its brilliance and social commentary, "Beauty Queen" is at its core fun-scary entertainment in the tradition of film directors Alfred Hitchcock and John Carpenter; and one has the feeling while watching these outrageously neurotic characters flail away at each other that nobody is having a better time than McDonagh himself.


Directed by Maria Mileaf, Set Design Christine Jones, Costume Design Janus Stefanowicz, Lighting Design Russell Champa, Sound Design Eileen Tague. "Beauty Queen" is playing at The Philadelphia Theatre Company, 1714 Delancey Street through June 27th. Tickets are $22-$34 phone 215-735-0631 or 215-569-9700. On the web at www.phillytheatreco.com

WITH: Isa Thomas (Mag), Alma Cuervo (Maureen), Boris McGiver (Plato), and Liam Craig (Ray).

Back to top of page