Review: ‘The Playboy of the Western World’ at Shaw Festival

The Playboy of the Western World

By JM Synge, directed by Jackie Maxwell. Until October 7 at the Shaw Festival’s Jackie Maxwell Studio Theatre, 10 Queen’s Parade. shawfest.com or 1-800-511-7429

A wily outsider stumbles into a community languishing in the depths of boredom. He boasts of his heroism to get the people’s attention, while they in turn fetishize and glorify him as their savior. All that, despite his carefully crafted backstory being nothing more than a mirage – a story built on lies.

As familiar as all this may sound, I’m not talking about Donald Trump, the billionaire and self-proclaimed outsider whose path to power was made possible under similar circumstances.

Rather, I’m describing the title character in “The Playboy of the Western World,” JM Synge’s canonical romantic comedy that, as directed and convincingly performed at the Shaw Festival, feels more like a perverted allegory about the folk heroes we idolize today.

Playboy Christy Mahon (Qasim Khan), the enigmatic figure who crashes into a small Irish town, could be a stand-in for all the rule-breaking personalities that dominate our daily headlines. Think Andrew Tate, Marjorie Taylor Greene and, yes, Trump.

Because Christy’s audience is no different than their audience. And like those individuals, his presence fulfills a desire his followers didn’t even know they had.

In Christy’s case, his arrival at a tavern in Ireland’s County Mayo disrupts the sad state of stagnation that permeates the lives of the townsfolk. His epic story of how he killed his father thrills listeners.

Perhaps none other than Pegeen Mike (Marla McLean), the daughter of a pub owner stuck in an unsatisfying relationship with Shawn Keogh (Andrew Lawrie), a lover unspectacular in almost every way.

It’s easy to see why Pegeen falls head over heels for the outlaw, caught up in the bewitching spell he casts. Khan’s Christy is enticing, captivating, bigger than the small-town life Pegeen is confined to.

Mercurial and ever-changing, he enters the inn lonely and withdrawn. Limbs pressed to his chest, eyes averting the gaze of the strangers, he timidly recounts his bloody deed. However, his audience’s improbable reaction, one of awe rather than horror, begins to feed his self-confidence.

And it’s not just Pegeen who creeps over the visitor: widow Quin (a wonderful Fiona Byrne) also longs for a new husband, while a trio of village girls (played by Jade Repeta, Alexandra Gratton and Sophie Smith-Dostmohamed, op for Kiana Woo) try to make Christy courting an array of gifts.

Much of Synge’s comedy stems from these unexpected and frankly hilarious interactions between the townsfolk and Christy, surprised by their almost-too-merciful welcome.

“It’s great luck and company that I’ve won my way to the end of time – two fine women fighting for people like me – until I think this night I wasn’t a fool not to kill my father in years gone by through,” he notes.

Despite the inherent comedy, director Jackie Maxwell’s production (staged at the Studio Theater named after her, the former Artistic Director of the Shaw Festival) also underscores the tragic setting in which the action unfolds.

Maxwell transposes the play, first performed in 1907, to 1950s Ireland, “where the grim economic conditions and immigration exhaustion in rural Ireland closely resemble those of Synge’s Mayo,” she explains in the program notes.

Samuel Sholdice’s sound design captures the harsh, windy environment of western Ireland. Judith Bowden’s gray-hued set, meanwhile, evokes a communal watering hole in disrepair: the peeling paint and ragged furniture a striking visual representation of the mournful state of her clientele. It is Christy’s charismatic personality that becomes the only connection to another possible realm, one of active existence rather than passive existence.

Maxwell’s in-the-round staging is shot in the unpretentious tavern, giving the production an almost sitcom feel, as the community members all come and go to stare at the fascinating newcomer.

However, what’s frustrating about the staging – either the result of misdirection or intended as a metaphor for something I couldn’t deduce – is that in act one the production goes to great lengths to make us believe we’re in this tavern . . The characters enter through two doorways. The pub, it seems, is enclosed with walls around the perimeter. But towards the end of act 1 and throughout act 2, Maxwell has the actors jumping in and out of the inn where the walls should be.

Perhaps this is a petty piece of criticism, but it makes “Playboy” even more confusing than it already is. It’s a work that demands full attention, starting with the characters’ thick Irish accents, which take several scenes to fully understand. Synge’s prose too is filled with figurative language, delivered at a breakneck pace.

A large part of the ensemble tackles this with confidence. However, I will single out actor Ric Reid in a key role that I am reluctant to reveal. His character, which shows up late in the first act, makes us question everything we knew about Christy. Reid not only captures the man’s pain and desperation, but also the comedy as he rolls into the inn to confront Christy and the townspeople.

The scenes after his arrival lead to a vehement conclusion that leads the townspeople to turn on Christy faster than a social media “cancellation.” Then you’ll come to appreciate how Synge captures this dynamic so astutely, offering a fiery investigation into how and why we choose to heroize the people we do.

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