Few things are harder than trying to piece together Stacey Gregg's Hold Your Tongue, Hold Your Dead" ("HYT, HYD"), but it is easy to see by the end that something important has taken place on stage. But what is it exactly that happens? The "HYT, HYD" work-in-progress collaborative began when the cast of actors hailing from the Emerald Isle gathered to share their experiences on the very topic their play discusses. "HYT, HYD" examines the conflict between opposing sides of Northern Ireland's divide and the emotional ramifications of this political struggle. With such a lofty goal, the work could have flown high. However, though the scenes are performed beautifully, the audience is ultimately left with a series of jumbled anecdotes rather than a cohesive story.
This workshop performance was presented by members of Global Arts Corps, an acting collective that specializes in productions situated in conflict zones and aims to foster reconciliation through shared experiences. "HYT, HYD's" director and producer, Michael Lessac, was also the creator and director for "Truth in Translation," a piece about the experiences of South African translators who worked for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
It is critical to bear in mind that "HYT, HYD" was, first and foremost, a workshop production. The show was bookended with Lessac inviting the audience to stay for a question-and-answer session with the actors and musicians (yes, there is a musical element to the play), both to ask the actors about their personal experiences and to critique the play. Herein lies is the real magic of "HYT, HYD": At the heart of every scene is an actor's real-life story. Despite occasionally thick layers of emotional showboating, most of the actors' performances were exceptional. If the goal of "HYT, HYD" was solely to portray a breadth and depth of experiences, then it would survive this review completely unscathed. Indeed, the multi-generational cast seems perfectly suited to the task of expressing shared and individual memories, while simultaneously developing a multitude of relationships between its characters - creating interactions that are at once charming and revolting, depressing and exciting.
In a way, however, the variety of relationships in the show makes its apparent lack of resolution and continuity all the more frustrating. Of all the relationships created in the 95 minutes of drama, the only one that matters is that of Nevin (Ryan McParland) and Kerry (Eileen O'Higgins). Watching the two characters - the show's representation of the younger generation - try to figure out how to be actual adults is both terrifying and hilarious. "HYT, HYD" becomes a sort of anti-"Peter Pan" as the two characters race to grow up, but the problem for the would-be lovers is that neither knows how to do so. The fact that just one important relationship holds up the play calls into question the necessity of so many of the others developed for the sake of individual scenes
