Greta Garbo Came to Donegal
Tricycle Theatre, London
If a peacock is mysteriously inhabiting the surrounds of a big house in Donegal, theatre convention states that use must be made of it. The same principle applies to a loaded gun appearing in act one. Then place a reclusive movie star by the name of Greta Garbo into this big house close to the Irish border, set it in 1967 just as the Troubles are about to kick off and you expect her to have a significant affect or be significantly affected by the local situation.
So what use does playwright Frank McGuinness make of all this? Let’s start with the house. It is owned by Sir Matthew Dover, an English painter. He bought the property from a local family, the Hennessys. They all, in some servant capacity, labour about the house for him. Something here of the British retaining domination over Ireland post-independence, perhaps?
James Hennessy worked in England, but couldn’t make a go of it. Despite help from other Donegal boys (his social inferiors), he just didn’t have the strength to cope. His sister, Paulie, was in Scotland where something mysterious happened and she had to be brought back home, as she couldn’t manage either. Thus, Hennessys cannot stray far from their home which, unfortunately, they have sold.
James’ daughter, Colette, does want to leave. The 17-year-old hopes to get a scholarship in order to study to be a doctor. She has no friends (why?), but is gifted when it comes to learning. Paulie, in what appears a transference of her own ambitions, closely identifies with her niece. Things are getting more promising.
Greta Garbo Came to Donegal is a play with promise. Strands of plot abound, helped by concise and at times witty dialogue. The acting – particularly from Caroline Lagerfelt as Garbo – is likewise strong. Come the interval, you feel it could go either way – most likely expecting a writer of McGuinness’ experience to give shape to this baggy monster.
Sadly, he doesn’t do so. When the play resumes, you’re still not quite sure who the central character is. Paulie, the thwarted yet essentially good-natured woman getting on in years and with little by way of a future, or Greta, the one with the best lines and, let’s face it, the character people have come to see.
And the lesbian attraction between them? A device for mutual empathy? A great romantic might-have-been? Sexuality is strange throughout. Matt Dover is gay, but has been married; his lover is a butch ex-boxer who wants to kiss Colette. James and his wife are certainly heterosexual – and to prove it argue with each other almost ceaselessly.
Greta refers to herself as a boy. Who knows what ice-maiden Greta is into – apart from herself?
There appear to be two endings. It is as if the play had finished 10 minutes too early and then someone informed the playwright that nothing had actually changed. He then decided to tag on a bit extra.
The late 1960s was a time of change in Ireland, as well as elsewhere. But these mostly charmless Irish locals and stock English gay blow-ins seem as though they could be from any decade of the 20th century. Or could have their nationality altered without much discernible difference. Greta might as well have descended on Delhi as Donegal. Correction: Delhi might have been better. At least that would have explained the peacock.
Richard Woulfe
