Homage to the Hiker
A reverent approach to a tired classic. Colin Murphy sees Druid's production of The Year of the Hiker
Plangent theme music and taped birdsong. A broad sweep of stage, like a widescreen telly. On a video screen in the background, seen through the window in the set, clouds rush by.
Garry Hynes's production of John B Keane's The Year of the Hiker is reverent and predictable. It is also good: well acted, cleanly directed, and staged with visual panache.
John B Keane's play feels tired, laden down with expository dialogue. Yet it has much to say about the Ireland of its day – specifically about the violence of sexual repression – and has strong characters and a simple, incisive plot.
As a staging of an Irish classic, this is worthy and faithful – maybe even better than that, for Eamon Morrissey's performance as The Hiker Lacey is quietly gripping. But the abiding impression is of gentle and respectful homage.
Francis O'Connor's set is beautifully designed, but at odds with the play. The design is dominated by long lateral lines across the wide sweep of the Gaiety stage; its twin features are a long dining table and, parallel and above it, an extremely wide window with a screen behind it showing footage of a changing skyscape. It is seductive and calming, and works to bleed the tension from the play.
Much tension is already lost in the depiction of Freda, by Catherine Walsh, as stereotypically spinsterly, and in Aaron Monaghan's jokey portrayal of the young student, Simey Lacey. Both are roles that are undercut with violence, an edge that is missing in Walsh's overwrought performance and Monaghan's lackadaisical buffoonery. Their double act gets some laughs, as the lad gently ribs his aunt for her spinster's ways, but they are easy laughs for old jokes.
The closing moments are emblematic of the approach to the production. The Hiker utters his closing line, anticipating the resonance his own death will have in the folk memory – "the year they buried the Hiker Lacey, the Lord have mercy on him" – and he and his first-born son, Joe, turn to the rear to face the window behind, a glorious sunset flooding in through it, silhouetting them. Their movements synchronised, they place their hands on the window ledge, then turn their heads to gaze off left as the curtain comes down.
The effect is garish and saccharine, like holding a sign up to the audience saying "Pathos!". It's a pity, because this final scene is well handled by Eamon Morrissey and Garrett Lombard, whose interaction generally is the highlight of the production.
John B Keane's play may not have aged well, but it is nonetheless a strong period piece. Garry Hynes has played it as if it were new, milking the humour and exploiting any potential in it for overt theatricality. Played more gently, less obtrusively, this might have had more of an edge, and less an air of homage.