Arriving at the Old Vic for The Brightening Air, there’s a real sense of anticipation. Conor McPherson’s latest play is one that’s been talked about for months, and it’s easy to see why. It is a production that envelops you in the warmth and melancholy of rural Ireland, delivering a family drama that is as evocative as it is quietly magical.
Brian Gleeson and Rosie Sheehy lead the cast as siblings Stephen and Billie, and their chemistry is the anchor that keeps the whole play grounded. Gleeson’s Stephen is all stoic loyalty and unspoken longing, while Billie is a whole other kettle of fish; her family say that she’s ‘not normal’ and her blunt nature brings plenty of laughs. Yet Sheehy infuses Billie with a quiet strength and vulnerability that is utterly compelling. The arrival of Chris O’Dowd’s Dermot shakes things up in all the right ways—O’Dowd brings a mischievous energy and a touch of unpredictability, making every scene he’s in fizz with tension.
This is an ensemble piece, and the cast work extremely well together. Hannah Morrish gives a heartbreakingly beautiful performance as Lydia, while Derbhle Crotty delights as Elizabeth, the housekeeper of Uncle Pierre (Seán McGinley), a former priest with big plans. The cast is rounded out with fantastic performances by Aisling Kearns as Freya and Eimhin Fitzgerald Doherty as Brendan, both outsiders to the family, representing some form of love interest.
If this all sounds a little Chekhovian, it’s probably because it is, even adopting the four-act structure. But it’s given a very Irish twist, and the family ties and bonds that are twisted, bent, and broken all feel much more recognisable in the hands of McPherson and his cast. There’s an unpredictability to it all that makes it feel like a story carried on a breeze, with us swept along for the ride.
The humour flows easily through McPherson’s writing, and the cast make the most of it, particularly O’Dowd, who delivers a masterclass in comedy—even throwing in an adlib on press night. Irish folklore and elements of the supernatural also trickle through, but these are light touches. The family tends to blame or attribute their fortune or misfortune to something otherworldly. As onlookers, we can see the reality, thanks to McPherson’s taut direction.
Rae Smith’s stunning set represents the dilapidated farmhouse through a few choice pieces of furniture, with the kitchen table at the heart of the story, while the backdrops come together to form a layered landscape. Mark Henderson’s lighting and Gregory Clarke’s sound design work together beautifully, creating a world that feels both familiar and just a little bit enchanted. There are moments when the pace slows, particularly in the first act, but the emotional payoff in the final scenes is more than worth the wait.
The Brightening Air is a masterful blend of heart and magic, brought to life by an exceptional cast and McPherson’s deft direction. It’s a journey through the complexities of family and folklore, leaving audiences enchanted and deeply moved.
