Twice in three years Chicago audiences have been blessed by beautiful Irish dramas, written in wonder by local writers and powerfully produced by off-Loop companies.
Ann Noble’s “And Neither Have I Wings To Fly,” a 1995 premiere by Seanachai Theatre Company, finds a superb successor in “A Mislaid Heaven,” winner of Famous Door Theatre’s 1997 “Women at the Door” series.
Casting spells strong as any Gaelic enchantment, both plays are steeped in pain and love. From a few potent characters they mine the broken dreams of an unhealed nation. In “A Mislaid Heaven,” Carson Grace Becker pens lines that hang in the air like rainbows or expose a lie to the bone. Karen Kessler’s staging completes the art — with performances so potent it will be hard to see these actors in other roles.
“A Mislaid Heaven” locates that land’s divisions in one tested family and two lovers, inhabitants of an Irish fishing village. It’s 1922 and the rebellion against England verges on civil war. Yet Becker finds redemption in one family’s refusal to hate.
The mother Maeve (Laura T. Fisher) despises this country that killed three sons, sent a daughter to America, another into a monied marriage, and a third, Ruth (Mary Cross), to wildness and dangerous dreams. Beyond these losses, Maeve hides a secret that ties her to a British landlord (Roderick Peeples), her unchosen enemy.
Loyal to more than the Irish Republican Army, Ruth adores her childhood pal (Coby Goss). They share Celtic legends and a passion for a peaceful island. Caught up in the rebellion, the lovers are fatefully separated. Ruth finds herself ordered to destroy a person who is more to her than she knows. On her choice hangs any hope for peace in this little mirror of Eire.
Kessler’s sterling cast is flawless in look, actions, accents, even silences. Cross creates an awesomely alive Ruth, her ardor matched by Goss’ desperate patriot. Fisher’s mother delivers the sheer weight of hardened love, while, as the alien Englishman, Peeples conveys the contradictions of centuries of misrule. Robert G. Smith’s pastoral setting and Jeff Pines’ evocative lighting are treasures of stagecraft. Heaven indeed.
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“A Mislaid Heaven” continues through Feb. 15 at the Theatre Building, 1225 W. Belmont Ave.; 773-327-5252.
