Christ Deliver Us

When the opening images of dark-frocked priests flit across the stage in Tom Kilroy’s new play Christ Deliver Us, your heart sinks – not another tale of clerical doom and gloom. But while there is some of that, there’s a lot more going on. Set in 1950s rural Ireland, the first act is an intricate portrayal of small-town adolescence – school, caning, hurling, courting – a series of short scenes, some harsh but others filled with the eagerness and innocence of youth. It’s only really in the second act that the going gets tough – and then tougher still, as the twin status quo of church and respectability rears its ugly and oppressive head, taking the proverbial sledgehammer to any curious and enquiring young minds. The thirst for knowledge is certainly not going to be slaked in this grim scenario, and straying from the straight and narrow will absolutely not be tolerated.

In a way, Kilroy’s play is showing where we have come from, and how far we may or may not have travelled in the interim, but although he rounds things off with a redemption of sorts (which I personally could have done without), there isn’t any real sense of connection with the present. Nevertheless it’s an engaging piece of theatre, with some wonderfully poetic language. It’s also pretty bleak, although what could have been a decidedly mawkish piece is given a degree of light-heartedness by director Wayne Jordan, who keeps things moving with a sure touch, bringing a playful feel to the many scene-changes and neatly incorporating Colin Dunne’s clever choreography. Terrifically staged on Naomi Wilkinson’s evocative bare-boarded set, with its mean little window high up on the wall, there’s some very fine acting from the large ensemble cast, particularly the leading trio of Aoife Duffin, Aaron Monaghan and Laurence Kinlan. www.abbeytheatre.ie