Adapted for the stage by husband and wife duo Conor and Judy Hegarty Lovett, the Gare St. Lazare Players Ireland's production of "Moby Dick" remains astonishingly true to the Melville classic. In their production, the Lovetts manage to include the story's important plot details without losing any of the witty lyricism of its narrator, Ishmael. Like the novel, their "Moby Dick" manages to seem at once modern and utterly timeless, focused as it is on the uniquely human sentiments of vengefulness and obsession.
However, the Lovetts did take a rather unconventional approach to the play's performance. There is no visual representation of a whale, nor is there a ship. Or an Ahab. In fact, there is nothing on stage at all, save two tables, a chair, an actor and musician CaoimhinO'Raghallaigh, who provides occasional accompaniment and musical interludes. The sum performance is jarringly raw.
Clad in a period ensemble, Conor Lovett truly dazzles as Ishmael. Barren stage or not, he succeeds in painting a vivid picture of his exceptional tale, from a run-down inn in New Bedford, Mass. to his symbolism-drenched escape from the sunken Pequod via a coffin life preserver. With his slight awkwardness and vivid recollection of his story, Conor Lovett's Ishmael is both charming and disconcertingly believable.
In addition to breathing life into his somewhat enigmatic protagonist, Lovett also incorporates a whole host of other characters and descriptions into his two-hour monologue, without interruption by any intermission. Careful nuances in his pitch and dialogue speeds designate other characters, while he uses occasional miming to illustrate his surroundings. Particularly memorable is Lovett's portrayal of Ahab when he, in a moment of delirious selfishness, commands his men to search out Moby Dick. Ahab's proclamations of his plan for a bloody revenge on the whale, paired with a screeching musical backdrop by O'Raghallaigh, audibly assault and mesmerize the audience.
For better or worse, this is a subtle play that really should only be watched by an audience with a long attention span. Like the Melville classic, the play's dialogue often moves with a complex brilliance that, if not focused on, loses all of its magic — the catchphrase "blink and you'll miss it" could not be truer. If you don't actively absorb all of the play's dialogue, the monologue quickly grows old, as there are relatively few visual distractions to complement the story. However, if you can keep your wits about you, "Moby Dick" is certainly worth it. Lovett's rich oratorical skill is reminiscent of a beset hero in a Greek tragedy, and his unexpected comedic skill drags the play out of its few doldrums.
O'Raghallaigh, who composed the play's rather minimal score himself, plays his fiddle, viola and uilleann in only the most interpretatively classical sense. Instead of a conventional melody, he frequently produces a strange symphony of breathy rasps and whispers that mirrors the mood of the piece. Ethereal, captivating and hauntingly beautiful, his score seems greatly underutilized given the amount of depth and emotion it adds to the play. When O'Raghallaigh picks up his instrument, it is always welcomed, but this only happens a handful of times; unfortunately, this infrequency makes the occasional appearance of music seem completely random. Indeed, if more scenes were accompanied, the audience likely would have an easier time remaining attentive to the dialogue. The music would also seem less disruptive to the progression of the play.
If you don't blanch at the idea of a two-hour monologue, then "Moby Dick" is definitely worth checking out. The play truly does Melville's novel justice, brilliantly condensed as it is. With Conor Lovett's engaging presentation as Ishmael and CaoimhinO'Raghallaigh's carefully arranged musical accompaniment, "Moby Dick" casts a haunting spell if theatergoers are willing to plunge into its depths.
