
Twenty-five years ago, Carmichael’s hand was cut off. He’s been searching for it ever since.
This is a black comedy by Martin McDonagh, the writer of The Beauty Queen of Leenane, The Cripple of Inishmaan and The Pillow Man.
First presented in 2010, it’s the first of McDonagh’s plays set in America.
75 minutes long, the action plays out (almost) in real time. Two grifters have come to Carmichael’s motel room, hoping to sell him a hand – which may or not be his.
It’s tremendous fun, with great laugh-out-loud lines. Directed by Kai Paynter, we’re treated to hilarious high-energy performances. (There were a few tiny hiccups, in vocal work and in staging, but I did see a preview.)
As the grifters, Cynthia Taylu and Alexander W. Hunter have a very amusing bickering repartee and both deliver terrific portrayals of comic fear.
As a motel employee, Christopher Northall is wonderfully quirky, a true loose cannon, brazenly outside usual motivations and empathies.
As Carmichael, James Yeargain brilliantly captures the character’s heartless determination, a frightening brutality which reaps enormous comic rewards when he falls into petty quibbles with the other characters.
But with the avalanche of politically incorrect language and suggestions of extreme violence, what’s it all about?
Crazed determination? Carmichael has been looking for his (unusable) hand for a long, long time.
Crazed consistency? On the phone, Carmichael’s mother questions whether he can legitimately claim to be racist if he finds women of colour sexually attractive. And the motel employee hangs on to a resentment which the current horrific circumstances should render utterly irrelevant.
Or perhaps, like many black comedies, it’s more about clearing the air.
Black comedies often seem untruthful – some people dismiss them as such – but they function as an invitation to break free from the spell of language and artistic representation. (A critic with even more authority than me has warned of the danger of bewitchment by our own creations, commanding “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image….”)
Through their mischievous and vicious exuberance, comedies like this refuse to be confused with the real thing. They remind us that our words, and the worlds they conjure, are not actually reality – certainly not in its totality – and that spirit of cheeky rebellion is gloriously liberating.
Paul Gilchrist
A Behanding in Spokane by Martin McDonagh
Presented by The Americas, A Theatre Co, in association with Beartiger Productions
At Schell Medical Corp (Flow Studios 88) until 12 October
theamericas.beartigerproductions.com
Image by Lola Carlton
