Ulster American at Irish Repertory Theatre

What the Hell Did I Just See?

It was a cold, rainy, Irish-y kind of night, and St. Patrick’s Week, as we do it here in NYC, was in full swing. So it worked out wonderfully that I found myself at Irish Repertory Theatre to take in David Ireland’s Ulster American. The play’s headliner was none other than Broadway legend and film star Matthew Broderick.

Broderick plays Jay Conway, an insufferable, clueless, American Oscar-winning film star in London to do a hard-hitting Irish drama directed by Leigh, played masterfully by Max Baker. Ireland wastes no time getting the audience to squirm. If I’m not mistaken, the first line we hear is Jay asking the director, “Have you ever used the N-word, Leigh?”

And we’re off.

As the playwright Ruth is running late, Leigh finds himself trapped in a weird and increasingly upsetting conversation with Jay that covers topics like, “Who would you rape if you absolutely, gun to your head, had to?” and other stomach-turning hypotheticals.

All the time bombs have been set ticking by the time Geraldine Hughes’ Ruth arrives, starstruck and excited by Jay’s participation in her play. Hughes is sublime as the audience’s advocate as we watch her negotiate with herself about what she will tolerate to see her play get made.

Ireland’s script is full of shocks and shockingly funny lines as he skewers and satirizes so-called wokeness and the people who wear that exhausting word as a cloak. Broderick is a wild choice to embody the crass, clueless Jay. He never strays far from that earnest, nebbish delivery that was the hallmark of his Leo Bloom in The Producers, even when he’s saying lines like, “If you were a man I’d put your balls in my mouth.”

Max Baker effortlessly embodies a slightly tipsy elder director, sipping wine in his living room, surrounded by posters of his past productions, dressed in a scarf and sweater. Leigh’s problem isn’t just the off-kilter Jay. He and Ruth don’t seem to agree on anything, least of all whether she is Irish or English or who did what to whom during “the Troubles.” If no one mentions the Troubles, is this even Irish Rep?

Here we descend into the madness of a Brit and an Irishwoman arguing about the complicated history of that time, with Jay failing to keep up. The deal breaker for him may well prove to be whether or not the play is pro-Catholic.

Courtesy: Carol Rosegg

There is quite a lot of meta theatre going on lately, and we live in meta times. I recently saw the latest production of Chess on Broadway, with its self-aware narrator winking at the audience and apologizing for the unfixable storyline. See it anyway for the voices. And of course, Daniel Radcliffe’s current Every Brilliant Thing is as meta as it gets, as he moves through the audience, pausing occasionally to deliver scenes from the play. See it anyway. It is pure, innocent, wonderful fun. In its own way, Ulster American struck me as a bit meta too.

Geraldine Hughes’ character complains about so many Irish plays being set in Belfast, while Hughes herself is well known for her one-woman show Belfast Blues. That is a coincidence few in the audience may catch, but I’m counting it. And then there is Matthew himself, an American marquee star whose presence is selling out the show, playing an American star whose presence is meant to help the play-within-the-play become a hit. At times, it even feels like Broderick’s Jay is winking at the audience. Sweet, lovable Matthew delivers Jay’s terrible abuse and rudeness in the same nervous monotone. Did Leo Bloom just say motherfucker?

At its core, what Ireland seems to be laying bare is the hopelessness of everyone, especially the perennial whipping post, the straight white male, trying to be politically correct, say the right thing in the right way to the right person, and twisting oneself into a hopeless knot in the process. Deep down, we all think, and sometimes say, something that could be taken the wrong way or weaponized if someone chose to do so. Wasn’t that all of us in the audience?

I became a little preoccupied with who, besides Matthew Broderick, might stand in as a totem for American offensiveness and idiocy, and was fascinated to learn that Woody Harrelson played the role in London. More than the other two roles, the American who plays Jay would very much shape the feeling and tone of the piece. Clooney? Will Ferrell? Good lord.

But this cast works together perfectly. Do not miss this shocking and hilarious production starring three actors at the top of their game.

When the play ended and the thrilled audience was done cheering and clapping, a bespectacled, nervous-seeming man seated in the row in front of me admonished us for laughing too loudly.

“It’s a small theatre, you know. We could hear you.”