An Evening of Craic: “Trad” at the Cape Rep Theater

Craic is, of course, an Irish term, connotating a fun, enjoyable time; and that’s precisely what the Cape Rep delivers in comedian-turned-playwright Mark Doherty’s Trad, a hilariously funny and occasionally thoughtful look at generational priorities, love, and the passing of time. As the name suggests, this play is about tradition—but also about much more, mostly about loss (of time, of body parts, of culture, of family). And yet despite all that, it is hysterically, side-achingly funny.

The two main characters are a father of indeterminate age, known only as Da (Seton Brown), and his hundred-year-old son, Thomas (Macklin Devine). Their bodies have seen better days: Thomas is missing an arm, and Da a leg, but that doesn’t keep them from perambulating about the sparse set with comedic timing and action that would make Charlie Chaplin envious.

What is literally getting them out of bed this morning is Da’s lament that they represent the “end of the line” of their family genes, followed by Thomas’ sudden revelation that he did, in fact, beget a son, a mere 70 years prior. Father and son immediately set out in search of the lad.

The two engage in hijinks both physical and spoken. A friend of mine—who is Irish—once noted that some Irish conversations sound “like a game of telephone, only somewhat less coherent,” and that applies hilariously to many of the conversations between Thomas and Da. “If my mother—” begins Da; “my grandmother,” interjects Thomas; “your grandmother,” agrees Da in a pattern that will repeat itself throughout the play. The two complete each other’s sentences, have clearly had the same conversations every day for most of the past century, and share a certain bonhomie. Da is not always kind, as when he grieves the loss of family issue (“there’s no man left”) to which Thomas replies, sadly bewildered, “I’m left, Da”) only to have his father brush him off with “what is a bar with no booze?”

That all changes, of course, when Thomas confesses that “there was an incident… with a girl” who, he admits, “was a bit forward.” Armed only with her name—Mary—and with the hurley Da uses as a cane, they set off across the countryside. One the way they contemplate not only their own changing lives, but the changing nature of the country and the people who live there, including anyone not born and bred in the village: “Tourists,” Da opines. “They’re welcome… to our postcards.”

After an (unnecessary, to my mind) encounter with a woman (Ian Hamilton) in the cemetery where they’ve gone to check out who’s new under the stones, father and son end up with the village priest (also Ian Hamilton) to ascertain who could be the mystery woman and her son, encounter which then sends them on their final quest of the story. (A pause to mention that the priest’s delivery of a Monty Python-esque story of a farmer working himself to the bone and beyond is ridiculously funny.)

And finally Da is forced to wonder, “Is tradition everyone standing still and staring backwards?” A question that’s presciently on-point for our own time. In the final scene, the two men find different answers to their quests than they’d anticipated, and Doherty’s homage to Irish greats such as Beckett moves seamlessly beyond parody into transcendence.

Director Alison Weller brings a light touch to the story, allowing the actors full rein with their spoofs, and oh my days, do they deliver. Devine and Brown are truly pitch-perfect as father and son, and Devine’s facial expressions alone are worth the price of admission. Weaving it all together is the presence of the Fiddler (Jonathan Ford), who charms the audience before the play begins and provides counterpoint to the dialogue throughout.

While conceptualized for another time and another place, Trad is very much a play for our own time and place… but don’t go see it because of that. Go see it because it delivers one of the most wonderful evenings you’ll spend anywhere.

review: Jeannette de Beauvoir

photos: Bob Tucker/Focalpoint Studio

Trad is at the Cape Rep Theatre from September 17-October 12; more info caperep.org