The Beauty Queen of Leenane – Lyric Theatre – Review
by Cathy Brown

The Beauty Queen of Leenane – by Martin McDonagh: A Lyric Theatre Belfast and Prime Cut Co-Production
Dates: Sat 27 May—Sat 1 Jul 2023

It is an interesting experience to watch a revival of Martin McDonagh’s debut play The Beauty Queen of Leenane so soon after the release of his award-winning film The Banshees of Inisherin. Almost thirty years on, his work’s hallmarks are all evident in his debut play. Here is the stultifying rural environment, where leaving provides the only offer of hope; two characters whose antagonism has become their lifeblood; a character who manages to escape; sudden lurches into brutal violence and the darkest of humour.

Beauty Queen had its debut in 1996, but much of its strength comes from the fact that it could date from any point in the preceding century. The story of a grown-up single daughter, tied to a cottage in Ireland where her dreams are thwarted by the needs of her irascible mother is universally recognisable. Despite the references to Kimberley Biscuits, Swing Ball and Australian soap operas, the play’s very timelessness adds power to this revival.

In this co-production between Lyric Theatre, Belfast and Prime Cut, Emma Jordan assuredly directs what is a tight work, her certain hand leading the Lyric audience from laughter to discomfort and finally, to horror. The first half feels like a pared-back version of The Glass Menagerie, with an overbearing mother and a gentleman caller offering a tantalising escape for the trapped daughter. Still, Williams’ poetic nostalgia is the polar opposite of McDonagh’s brutal reality.

Nicky Harley is a vital, emotional presence as Maureen whose place in the world is now defined by the petty victories she can inflict on her mother. As she prowls the stage, filled with impotent rage, her hopelessness is never far from the surface. Ger Ryan is compellingly twisted as Mag, and features an impressive ability to humanise this woman, whose cruelties are matched by those of her daughter, and whose feeble helplessness is a cover for her fear of abandonment. As they needle at each other over lumpy Complan and bedpans being dumped in the sink, Jordan deftly introduces ambiguity around the question of just who is the victim in this toxic relationship.

The play shifts gear with the arrival of Pato (an appealing Caolán Byrne), returning from London for a brief stay, upending Maureen’s dour existence and introducing doubt into Mag’s future. He looks set to offer her the possibility of a different life outside of this familial nightmare but inadvertently locks the cage tighter.  The opening of the second act, where he reads a letter to her, a letter full of hope, vulnerability and possibility provides a pleasing but brief shift in tone, even though it will never reach its recipient. Marty Breen shines as Pato’s younger brother Ray, whose visits to the house invigorate with their infectious swagger, but descend into repetitive Beckettian interactions from which no one can break free.

This harsh drama plays out within Ciaran Bagnall’s striking cottage kitchen, grubby with age and surrounded by the bleak, twisted limbs of skeletal trees, reinforcing the impossibility of growth, while Neil Martin’s sound design is as thoughtfully integrated as the rain that pours down outside.

McDonagh’s play is not without its issues and as the plot reaches its devastating yet predictable conclusion, the contrived psychodrama threatens to overtake the emotional coherence of the piece. Jordan does well to avoid the melodrama inherent in the work – although the ambiguity of the staging may be confusing for some – but focuses instead on her characters and the depth of their pain. The ending is still as shocking as it is moving, centring on Harley’s controlled performance that emphasises the stark, brutal sadness of Maureen’s unending situation.

The Beauty Queen of Leenane is a ruthless exploration of the desperation of rural family life, particularly when compounded by economic hardship, and this production breathes new life into it, presenting a thrilling theatrical experience that is macabrely funny, horrifyingly grim and superbly played.