In Caomhan Keane’s review of Pygmalion at the Abbey Theatre, he describes this production of the 1912 George Bernard Shaw classic as, “My Fair Lady. Without Audrey. Or the tunes,” referencing the hit 1964 musical film adaptation of the play starring the beloved Audrey Hepburn. What Keane fails to emphasize is the production’s dynamic, detailed, and colorful choices in acting and design, which consistently captivate and delight the audience, giving them no reason to long for catchy songs or Ms. Hepburn’s classic beauty and grace. Director Annabelle Comyn adds a fresh energy to Shaw’s romantic comedy (which also happens to be a commentary on class systems and feminism) about phonetics professor Henry Higgins, who accepts a challenge to transform poor, Cockney-accented flower girl Eliza Doolittle into an elegant lady by teaching her proper speech.
The actors vary greatly in style and energy from one another, and while that variation may seem discordant at times, it actually adds to the excitement and deeper meaning of the production overall. When staging a production of such a ubiquitous play as Pygmalion, it is important to make bold choices that set it apart from other performances of it. In the Abbey’s production, those choices shine through in the actors’ diverse characterizations, which are strong and compelling. Most notably, actress Charlie Murphy is an outstanding leading lady as Eliza Doolittle. Her Cockney accent is spot-on, and she plays the role with just the right balance of feistiness and earnestness to make her character credible and easy to root for. Her looks, too, fit the part of Eliza perfectly; although she is quite pretty, she is not an ethereal, glamorous Audrey Hepburn type, but rather has a charmingly quirky, down-to-earth face that would not seem out of place on an actual impoverished, Edwardian-era flower girl. The one issue I have with Murphy’s Eliza involves her voice after learning speech from Higgins. I have no idea if this is a conscious acting or directing decision or just the limitations of Murphy’s natural voice, but Eliza’s post-Higgins accent is not as perfectly proper as I hoped it would be. It still has slight hints of lower-class speech, which make for a less powerful transformation than with other Elizas I have seen who adopt flawless Queen’s English in the second half of the play. In general, however, Murphy more than makes up for this small imperfection, managing to play pre-Higgins Eliza with a realistic accent, spirited vivacity, and full vocal projection without coming off as grating or annoying (as some Elizas I have seen have been) and lets that intensity continue after her transformation, when she struggles with the unfairness of suppressed independence for women.
The other actors, for the most part, bring just as much vitality to Pygmalion as Murphy does. Risteard Cooper plays Higgins with a sense of enthusiastic arrogance, gracelessness, and flippancy that works to emphasize the feminist undertones of the play. In a couple of other productions of Pygmalion I have seen, Higgins’ crudeness and sexism are downplayed to the point where he becomes nothing more than a charming romantic hero whom audiences hope will end up with Eliza. Cooper’s portrayal of Higgins, however, although still rather charming, seems more along the lines of how Shaw, as a feminist, might want to see his work performed onstage today if he were still alive. In all the flaws that Cooper brings to Higgins, from his improper mannerisms, such as putting his feet up on furniture, to his lack of empathy toward Eliza, especially in act four, the audience gets a clearer sense of the sexism happening in the world of the play. If the audience can become outraged at Higgins’ behavior in general, it is easier for them to react the same way to the sexist and classist double standards and oppression going on, such as treating Eliza as property to be bought, sold, and judged solely on appearance, rather than as a fellow human being with feelings.
From an actor’s point of view, although Murphy and Cooper make excellent, thought-provoking leads, the best acting in the production comes from two of the supporting actors. Eleanor Methven as Mrs. Higgins and Nick Dunning as Colonel Pickering are both seasoned veterans of the Irish theatre scene, and their experience and talent shine even when playing these parts that are not necessarily the starring roles of the play. These two truly accomplish the feat that is mastering the art of listening in acting. I find myself looking over at them while other characters are speaking, just to see their incredibly clear inner monologues and reactions in their faces and body language.
The other “actors” that stand out the most are the sets and costumes, designed by Paul O‘Mahony and Peter O‘Brien, respectively. Their exquisite detail and historical accuracy make them more than just a background for the characters to play over, but rather devices that transport everyone in the theatre, onstage and off, to a different era for two and a half hours. As a costume constructor myself, my brain nearly goes into sensory overload as I ogle the gorgeous, billowy, embellished dresses that Mrs. Eynsford-Hill, Clara, and post-transformation Eliza wear. Even more impressive are the distressed, dirty rags that Eliza and her father wear before their ascent into high society. They are so filthy that the class differences between the Doolittles and the more well-off characters are immediately apparent and striking, which seems to be something Shaw himself would have enjoyed seeing, given his interest in exploring, breaking down, and mocking the British class system.
Surprisingly, this is the first time Pygmalion, an extremely popular play by Shaw, a revered Irish playwright, has been produced at the Abbey. Now is a particularly interesting time to premiere this Irish play about life in England, considering the Queen of England’s recent visit to the Republic of Ireland, the first state visit here by a British monarch, which was largely considered to be an act of friendship. Is staging this Irish-British hybrid play also an act of friendship? Or is it more of a statement of disapproval, given the satirical nature of the play’s view of the British social hierarchy? Either way, the timing of this production relative to the Queen’s visit provides audience members with ample discussion topics and questions to contemplate upon leaving the theatre.
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