Beauty Queen Shows The Dark Side of Life

The Beauty Queen of Leenane
Written By Martin McDonagh
Directed by Katie Chidester
Through July 10
Hunger Artists Theater Fullerton
Fri. & Sat. - 8:00 pm
Sun. - 7:00 PM
Five Scoops of Bosco

Martin McDonagh's many black comedies for the stage cast a wistful eye at his native Ireland. In the playwright's mind, his native land is both blessed and cursed, a dichotomy that makes for some of the most pointed contemporary theater of recent years.

"The Beauty Queen of Leenane" is already 15 years old, but its tale of a mother and daughter locked in a bitter stalemate is timeless. Hunger Artists Theatre Company's is currently staging the play at its intimate theater in Fullerton.

Directed by Katie Chidester, the well-cast production proves how neatly the 1996 play fits with small storefront troupes which may be poor in funding and material resources but rich in talent. With this cast, McDonagh's expertly written, tightly focused tale is simply spellbinding.

We're in the cottage shared by Maureen Folan (Stephanie Schulz) and her mother, Mag (Judy Jones), in the tiny village of Leenane. The home's shabbiness is a sad reflection of the town itself, where the only excitement comes from news of townsfolk having left for places like Leeds, England, London, or Boston, Mass., in the United States.

The conflict which drives "Leenane" is simple and direct: Now 40, Maureen has grown weary of caring for her now-ailing mother, which she has done tirelessly for 20 years with no help from her sisters. She spends each day waiting on Mag without a moment's peace, dreaming of the day she can escape her dreary life.

Mag has no friends, no life and no one to talk to but Maureen. She'll do whatever is necessary to prevent Maureen from leaving. As becomes readily apparent, no amount of meddling and manipulation is beneath her.

What sets the plot in motion is the arrival of Pato Dooley (Mark Coyan) back home for a visit from England, where he's been able to find steady, and lucrative, employment. Pato makes it clear he wants quality alone time with Maureen. Pretty but plain, and filled with insecurity and desperation, she can't decide whether his calling her "the beauty queen of Leenane" is a compliment or a cruel joke.

Maureen's dreams for "anything other than this" are achingly palpable, as is her open antagonism toward Mag, and we can feel her suffocation in lines like "You'll be hangin' on forever, just to spite me."

The truth about Mag's scalded hand is left concealed until well into the action, just one of several issues in which Pato is uncomfortably caught in the middle between mother and daughter. Mag says Maureen did it and "lied to the doctor about it"; Maureen says mom was "trying to cook for herself" and suffered an accidental burn.

Maureen can't hide the fact that she was institutionalized in her mid-20s. "She was in a nuthouse in England," Mag tells Pato. "I had to agree to look after her." It's no secret, Maureen confirms: "I was in a home after a bit of a breakdown."

Chidester's staging couldn't be much better. Sure, the initial scenes are slow going – but that's entirely the point. Life in Leenane is maddeningly dull and prosaic. McDonagh's dry humor and singsong dialogue are handled by the cast in lilting, lyrical accents that are spot-on.

Schulz and Jones have surprisingly similar facial features which bolsters our image of them as family. Around Pato, Schulz's Maureen fairly glows, effected by a nicely dressed-up Maureen's beaming smile and fluid movements. Schulz also neatly reveals the boiling anger that informs Maureen's every word and deed.

Jones' Mag is a dour old biddy, a busybody who goes about muttering half to herself. She's also exceedingly sour and cynical, as far from maternal and nurturing as possible. Coyan's Pato is a lovable rogue and, under the colorful surface, a kindhearted and decent fellow. Coyan delivers a comforting sound in lines like "there's no shame in that" or "the past is behind you now."

Topher Mauerhan makes the most of the small role of Ray, Pato's younger brother, painting him as comically restless, impatient and peevish. Amy Shuffield's scenic design is aptly threadbare and depressingly forlorn, with its scuffed old furniture, clunky cast iron furnace and dirty, dusty, small television set.

"The Beauty Queen of Leenane" didn't reach Broadway until 1998, where it won the Drama Desk Award for outstanding new play and racked up four Tony Awards from a total of six nominations. Hunger Artists' fine staging is just the latest example of the bleakness and dark humor that inform Martin McDonagh's astute view of human nature.

Reviewed by Eric Marchese
Mr. Marchese reviews theater for the OC Register