Love and the ancient conflict

10 April 2012

Brian Friel's intricate slice of Irish history exudes a playful fascination with language, and also a wariness of its traps and political pitfalls. Translations is a witty, fiercely intelligent play of words that plays on words: a family drama and a love story that pinpoints the start of armed conflict between British soldiers and Irish guerrillas. Laurence Till's co-production for the Watford Palace, Coventry Belgrade and Salisbury Playhouse is a little undercast, but handsome and welcome all the same.

It is 1833, and the Royal Engineers are mapping County Donegal, anglicising place names for taxation purposes. The locals, meanwhile, converse in Gaelic, Latin and Greek (and even sign language) at Big Hugh's "Hedge School", disdaining English. When a dreamy soldier falls for a colleen he can't understand, Friel shows how a lack - or an excess - of respect for native culture can be fatal, as pranks against the invading English escalate into violent retaliation.

Till and his designer Kendra Ullyart make the gap between the Irish characters' erudite eloquence and their barefoot grubbiness too wide. Despite the delicacy of Friel's characterisations, the English soldiers here border on caricature, and there's little spark in the cross-cultural romance.

There are finely textured central performances, though, from Patrick Drury as the inebriate sage Big Hugh, and Alan Mooney as Owen, the prodigal son who discovers that translating for the English makes him an imperialist tool. Jonathan Keeble and Paula Garfield add unsentimental pathos as Hugh's lame second son Manus and the mutely horrified deaf girl Sarah.

Till handles the scenes of multi-lingual incomprehension - in which everyone speaks English, of course - with aplomb. Language, according to Friel, is a liberating thing, a compensation for "mud huts and potatoes". It can also be a chain hobbling the speaker to a long-dead past, or a potent weapon for oppressors. Despite its failings, Till's production makes the point well.

? Watford Palace. Until 6 May. Box office: 01923 225671

Translations

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