Dancing at Lughnasa

By Brittaney Mann

“In that memory atmosphere is more real than incident and everything is simultaneously actual and illusory. In that memory, too, the air is nostalgic with the music of the thirties.”

from Michael’s end monologue in Dancing at Lughnasa

The National Theatre’s production of Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel is gorgeous. The actors did a great job bringing the characters to life, the set was dazzling, and the sound effects created an immersive experience for the audience members. But this play does demand patience from the audience member because the conflict does not follow a natural rising and falling like on a plot mountain; this play exemplifies what an avoidance of conflict looks like.

The title is misleading to the actions that play out in the story, but maybe it is meant to be that way. Every action in this play has two sides to it, and nothing is really what it is. Surrounding the joyful conversations, the dreams of dancing once again, the dreams of Father Jack returning to his religious position, the hopes that Chris will be okay, and so on, are comments about reality — an admission of aging, of Jack’s thoughts changing, of knowing Gerry will never stay, of lost jobs impending — and these comments are brushed aside for dancing or conversations as mindless and soothing as song. 

“It drifts in from somewhere far away — a mirage of sound — a dream music that is both heard and imagined; that seems to be both itself and its own echo; a sound so alluring and so mesmeric that the afternoon is bewitched, maybe haunted, by it.”

Michael’s monologue continued

I had an epiphany at the end of the play, which brought comfort to me sitting through it. Michael recalls that there is one memory that he thinks of most often, and what fascinates him about the memory “is that it owes nothing to fact. In that memory atmosphere is more real than incident and everything is simultaneously actual and illusory.” This line I think sums up the magic of the set and why Chris and Rosie run their hands along curtains that have a projection of the natural scenery on them and why the music jumps from the radio to a louder speaker outside the stage. 

The actors did an excellent job to make this play engaging, but even with skillful allusions to their feelings through body language and tone of voice, it might still be difficult to track the story. I think this play is one that the audience member has to take with them outside the theatre to reflect on in order to feel fully satisfied with watching the performance. 

This play is great to see if you are willing to be wowed by the set immediately and later ponder the plot to fully understand the purpose of this story being shared. 

“And what is so strange about that memory is that everybody seems to be floating on those sweet sounds, moving rhythmically, languorously, in complete isolation’ responding more to the mood of the music than to its beat.”

Michael’s monologue