ARTICLES

www.backstage.com review

The Shaughraun
January 14, 2008
By Gwen Orel

For those who think Irish playwriting consists largely of boozers gabbing blarney, enlighten yourself with The Shaughraun (pronounced "shok-RUN") at the Storm Theatre. This exciting 1874 melodrama by Irish playwright and subsequent New Yorker Dion Boucicault speeds along from event to event. Fair play to the Storm Theatre (as the Dublin expression goes) for producing it again (with a different cast), 10 years after The Shaughraun was the company's first production in its inaugural year. Boucicault wrote over 150 plays, including a trilogy of Irish dramas as well as The Octoroon and The Corsican Brothers, and was hugely influential - Shaw's The Devil's Disciple (currently on view at Irish Rep) probably could not have existed had The Shaughraun not come along 20 years earlier. Still, productions today are rare, so it's a treat to see this excellent version.

Director Peter Dobbins, also the company's artistic director, has a sure hand that shines despite limited resources (there's no rolling panorama turning the fourth wall inside out, as in the original Broadway production). The characters' asides are consistently clear, and the plot thickens appropriately.

Set against the aborted Fenian uprising of 1866 (the nationalist Fenian Brotherhood was a society formed in America by Irishman John O'Mahony), the story concerns Robert Ffolliott (Tim Seib), a convicted rebel who has escaped from a penal colony in Australia thanks to the wiles of his friend Conn the shaughraun (shaughraun is Gaelic for wanderer, vagabond). Double-dealing landlord Corry Kinchela (Ross DeGraw) tries to hide the queen's pardon of the Fenians (wishful thinking on Boucicault's part) from Ffolliott and marry Robert's sweetheart, Arte O'Neal (Daniela Mastropietro), whose family estate he has swindled away. Meanwhile, Captain Molineux (Kris Kling), assigned to patrol the shore for signs of the fugitive, falls for Robert's sister Claire (Mia Perry). Typically for Boucicault, those Irish who are collaborators are even worse than the English.

Conn is a charmer of a part, a rogue with a tall tale for everything, and Boucicault played it himself for many years. Unfortunately, Chris Keveney's Conn blusters where he should sparkle. Fortunately, the other company members know better: Clodagh Bowyer as Conn's mother; Mastropietro as the noble ingénue; Joe Sullivan as a patriotic priest; Laura Bozzone as Moya, Conn's winsome sweetheart; and DeGraw, who makes Kinchela a thorough bad'un, bring wit to their roles. As Harvey Duff, Kinchela's henchman, Glenn Peters hits every note of humor and malice. But Kling's gallant English straight man, hilariously out of his depth among the Irish, whose wakes he calls "melancholy entertainments," steals the show.

 

www.lightingandsoundamerica.com (14 January 2008)

Theatre in Review: The Shaughraun (Storm Theatre)

Talk about your Irish Troubles; Robert Ffolliott is a young Fenian, or nationalist, a crime in British-ruled 19th-century Ireland. Robert is sent to prison in Australia, leaving behind his fiancée, Arte O'Neal, and sister, Claire, living in reduced circumstances. The Ffolliot estate has been mortgaged to Corry Kinchela, a blackguard who collaborated in Robert's arrest. Robert, however, has escaped from prison with the assistance of Conn, the title character, and has returned to Ireland. (Conn somehow switched their identities in prison, then escaped, but it's best not to dwell on that.) Little does Robert know, however, that Queen Victoria has pardoned all Fenians -- except those who have broken out of jail. The good news: Robert has been recaptured by Captain Molineux -- who, by the way, is in love with Claire -- putting him back in line for a pardon. The bad news: Only Corry knows about the new law, so he plots to spring Robert from captivity yet again.

The above summary doesn't account for even half of The Shaugraun. It leaves out Corry's romantic designs on Arte, Conn's romance with the niece of the disapproving local priest, a kidnapping, a suicide, a faked funeral, various mistaken-identity situations, and the freelance machinations of Harvey Duff, who has betrayed so many characters that he lives in a constant state of terror. It's all grist for the mill of Dion Boucicault, king of 19th-century potboilers. Watching The Shaugraun, it's hard not to believe that, if Boucicault was alive today, he'd be turning out episodes of Dirty Sexy Money-or, more to the point, Prison Break.

With their clockwork plotting and precisely timed reversals of fortune, Boucicault's boisterous comedy -- melodramas are a real challenge for modern theatre companies. The Irish Repertory Company had trouble with The Colleen Bawn in 2003, and Roundabout Theatre had only mixed success with London Assurance about a decade ago. They require actors who can embrace the scripts' floods of emotions, leaping from fury to despair to ecstasy in a few pages. Even more, they require a director capable of investing these wild contrivances with something like belief -- or, better yet, providing an affectionate stylization.

Sadly, the company assembled for the Storm Theatre production isn't up to the task. Peter Dobbins' direction keeps the action moving at a rapid clip, but most of his actors don't do much more than go through the motions. It may not be entirely their fault-Dobbins hasn't really decided how to approach this kind of colorful nonsense, either as straightforward melodrama or as a loving send-up of long-gone stage conventions. The one standout is Kris Kling, whose clipped delivery and delightfully deadpan manner spoofs the role of Molineux without undermining the character's role as a romantic lead. If the rest of the company followed his lead, The Shaugraun would be a treat. In the title role, Chris Keveney has a brash charm and energy to spare, which sometimes seems too much for this intimate staging. The rest of the cast lacks conviction, and there are a number of wobbly Irish accents.

The design is a fairly bare-bones affair, with Ken Larson's two-level blonde-wood set at least proving useful at keeping the action moving forward. Joanna M. Haas' costumes are passable for this budget level, but Michael Abrams' lighting could provide a bit more coverage of the actors here and there. Scott O'Brien makes the most solid contribution with his sound design, providing a series of convincing effects, including storms and ocean waves -- although his gunshots are awfully feeble, and I have no idea why he chose Swan Lake as his pre-show music. The staging of the fighting scenes is surprisingly effective, however, adding a kick of excitement when it is most needed.

Most of the time, however, there's little to do but watch the gears of the plot grind on until the villains are punished and three sets of couples are placed in each others' arms. There have been successful modern Boucicault stagings-most notably London Assurance at Royal Shakespeare Company in the 1970s, and London's National Theatre had good luck with The Colleen Bawn a few years back. But his plays continue to elude the efforts of American companies to revive them.--David Barbour

nytheatre.com review
Martin Denton * January 10, 2008

There's theatrical magic going on at The Storm Theatre this month, of a
pure and rare variety. Director Peter Dobbins has got his hands once
again on Dion Boucicault's charmer of a melodrama, The Shaughraun, and
he's brought it to life in all its pixilated, blarney-spouting glory,
just as it ought to be seen. If you're ready to spend a full hour (i.e.,
the play's second act) at the edge of your seat, to relish some
fast-paced adventure and some sweet if improbable romancing that just
might bring a tear to your sentimental eye, well, then I advise you to
purchase tickets to this play forthwith.

This is Storm's second experience with The Shaughraun, and after ten
years it's a pleasure to see this still little-known work back on stage.
Written about 140 years ago, it takes place in a small town in Ireland
called Suil-a-beg, where a remarkably convoluted tale unfolds. It
centers around Robert Ffolliott, a young Irish gentleman who sometime
before the play begins was framed as a Fenian and sent to prison in
Australia. His sister, Claire, and her friend, Arte O'Neal, have been
victimized by the evil Corry Kinchela during Robert's absence; they are
just a few weeks away from losing their home to Kinchela, and Arte-in
love with Robert-is being wooed by Kinchela as well.

As the play commences, Claire meets and falls in love at first sight
with a noble British captain, Harry Molineux, who has arrived in this
remote Irish locale with his regiment to track down an escaped convict,
who (of course) turns out to be Robert. It must be noted that Molineux
falls in love with Claire in even more head-over-heels fashion that she
with him.

Conn, the village Shaughraun (who, according to the playbill, is "the
soul of every fair, the life of every funeral"-in short, the kind of
fellow that everyone wants to know but that few would trust their
daughters or their property with), has helped Robert with his escape and
now conspires with Claire, Arte, and Robert's guardian Father Dolan to
keep Robert away from the clutches of Molineux and his men. When
Kinchela and his henchman Harvey Duff find out what's afoot, they get
into the fray as well.

I told you it was complicated. But it plays out smoothly and seamlessly
under Dobbins's oh-so-steady directorial hand, so that by the first act
curtain you'll likely be fully in tune with all of these delightful
characters and, as already noted, you may well spend most of the second
act breathlessly reveling in Boucicault's neatly plotted developments.
There are chase scenes, secret meetings, faked deaths, double-crosses,
and a hilarious Irish wake (Boucicault is liberal with his satire of his
fellow Irish). And through it all, there's the forbidden love between
Claire and her arch-enemy, the English soldier Molineux-a love, of
course, whose eventual happy outcome is never for one second in doubt.
The Shaughraun is that kind of play.

The whole enterprise plays out on a lovely unit set created by Ken
Larson that, as lit masterfully by Michael Abrams, evokes the many
interior and exterior locations required by the sprawling story. Joanne
M. Haas's costumes similarly suit the period and the respective
classes/stations of each of the many characters.

The cast, of general fine quality, features two exemplary performances.
In the title role, there's Chris Keveney, who seems to be having a
splendid time as the irrepressible Conn, bounding about the stage as if
the rooms were all too small to hold him properly. One exaggeratedly
goofy exit of his in particular reminded me of a Hanna-Barbera cartoon
character giving chase. As Captain Molineux, Kris Kling is nothing short
of superb, giving what may turn out to be the best comic romantic
performance of the season. His utter conviction as the play's besotted
hero is inspiring and infectious, and his British accent and attitude
are unwaveringly correct. Kling, who made his Storm debut last season in
The Jeweler's Shop, is a major find.

Offering strong support in the company of 16 are Glenn Peters, who makes
Harvey Duff not simply the villainous comic relief that he could be, but
a complex, thoroughly rotten coward and knave; Laura Bozzone, who plays
Father Dolan's niece, Moya (who is also Conn's love interest) with
vivacity and spirit; and Tim Seib as the earnest and forthright young
Robert Ffolliott, making him a worthy focal point for all the
shenanigans that fill this outsized yarn.

It is, in sum, a show that reminds you why the theatre is where we go to
fill ourselves with awe and wonder, where the most ordinary
event-falling in love, say-can become gloriously extraordinary. Dobbins
and company are making this singular miracle happen on stage at the
Storm. If you're ready for an evening of old-fashioned, unabashed charm,
The Shaughraun may be just the fellow you seek.

Backstage Article by Ben Sher August 17, 2006

Kristopher Kling
August 17, 2006
Even though actor Kristopher Kling signed with an agent shortly after graduating from the Guildhall School of Music & Drama in London, he adamantly refused to sit around waiting for the phone to ring. "That's why I subscribed to Back Stage," says Kling, "to be more proactive."

To his delight, the phone rang three days after he uploaded his picture and résumé to BackStage.com's database. Mitch Polin, director of Mustard, a reimagining of Ibsen's A Doll's House, thought Kling would be right for his production.

"We were looking for someone who had some semblance of experience in nonnaturalistic theatre," says Polin, "and we were looking for a very specific person with a very specific look, and he ended up being great."

More than just a subtle revision of Ibsen's canonical play, Mustard employs an onstage rock band and incorporates sources such as Our Town, Faust, and The Master and Margarita to visualize the growing tension in the household of Nora and Torvald Helmer.

"It's labeled as a renegade version of A Doll's House. It's just a very strange version," says Kling. "The director's idea was basically to make a theatrical collage."

In another radical move, Polin duplicated his protagonists: Kling played one of two Torvalds opposite two Noras. "I thought that worked really well," says Kling. "It was like using two different aspects of the same relationship: one more bitter and insensitive and one thoughtful and hanging on to the possibilities of what could be."

Polin says that Kling's willingness to embrace unconventional concepts and contribute his own personality, history, and ideas to the play added to the final product. "When you're working with someone new," the director says, "there's a period of getting to know somebody, and we went through that transition very quickly and very successfully so that we could collaborate on the project. We made some very interesting choices, and, hopefully, successful choices."

As Mustard ended its run, Kling went back to pounding the pavement in search of his next job. After responding to a notice in the Union/Nonunion Stage section of the May 11 issue of Back Stage East, he was cast in ShakespeareNYC's production of Coriolanus. The play, which opened June 14, began rehearsing one week after Mustard closed.

"It's going well," says Kling, "I mean it's early, but, hopefully, it will be a good show. The director's really enthusiastic and passionate, really knowledgeable about the work."

Kling's only advice to young actors is "Do what you can to be proactive." They're words of wisdom from an actor who proves that banging down opportunity's door gets better results than waiting for someone to knock.

-- Ben Sher