It’s been only 10 years since Conor McPherson’s word fest of a play ran at the Biltmore Theatre for 101 performance including 21 previews. It was well received not only for the eloquence of the writing, but for the sterling performances of Oliver Platt, Martha Plimpton, Brian F. O’Byrne, and Peter Scanavino. It had come to us following a run at the Royal Court Theatre and the Dublin Gate in Ireland. It now returns in a splendid revival by the Irish Repertory Theatre on West 22nd Street in that distinguished company’s completely renovated theatre that is as sparkling as this new version of the play, directed this time out by Ciarán O’Reilly, who has staged it cleanly, allowing its small cast of four to offer its many monologues front and center.
It begins quietly in a Dublin office, recently established by Ian, a man who abandoned his priesthood for the role of therapist, and his first patient is John, played by Matthew Broderick. John is in terrible condition, though outwardly he is casually and properly dressed, seemingly in control, but as he begins to talk, we realize he needs help badly. His wife was suddenly killed in a car wreck only weeks before and he has been unable to sleep, haunted by images of his wife’s ghost, which he is convinced are real; not dreams but actual encounters.
There are moments when the thought occurred to me that his ramblings would never end, but I soon buried them as I became totally caught up in them. Mr. Broderick’s performance is mesmerizing. He appears in two of the play’s four scenes (played together in an uninterrupted 90 minutes) and we listen to his sad tale, played with a beautifully authentic Dublin accent, leading to a crescendo of rage that releases him from his recent outings as an aging Ferris Buehler.
Ian, the therapist, does little but listen, but Billy Carter brings presence and nuance to his character and we wish to know about him as well.
In the second scene, we meet the woman Neasa, with whom he’s had a baby, and as played by Lisa Dwan, she is a physically attractive woman who manages to convince us by the time she is through venting at how she’s been abused by him, that she is not to blame — Ian has problems of his own with which he’s never dealt. Mr. McPherson has an uncanny way with words. Never losing the rhythms or the lilt of the Irish tongue, he fills these speeches with revealing insight into his characters. In the third scene, we meet Laurence, a derelict pickup who’s had more than his share of bad luck, through whom we learn more of Ian’s conflict with himself. The surprise ending to the play brings this highly original work to a smashing conclusion.
Charlie Corcoran’s office set design, fragile and tentative, is the perfect room in which this masterful character study unravels itself. The lighting by Michael Gottlieb brings proper glow to all that happens here.
All four actors fill it with life, turning broken people into human beings for whom we have great empathy. As with the best of Eugene O’Neill’s work, the total effect of the language and the seemingly limpid pace, causes us ultimately to feel connected to these people, and we are genuinely moved by them all.
Artistic Director Charlotte Moore and Producing Director Ciarán O’Reilly have given New York another gem.
Running Time: Approximately 90 minutes, with no intermission.
Shining City plays through July 3, 2016 at Irish Rep Theatre – 132 West 22nd Street, in New York City. For tickets, call the box office at  (212) 727-2737, or purchase them online.
