Writer, Choreographer & Director: Luke Murphy
Dublin’s Abbey Theatre plays host tonight to Dublin Dance Festival’s Artist in Residence, Luke Murphy’s latest production, Scorched Earth. Under the auspices of his multidisciplinary company, Attic Projects, he presents a contemporary mash-up of John B Keane’s play The Field via an expanse of mediums.
In a Garda interview room, the two way mirror on the wall behind a desk and chair becomes a film screen. Snapshots of a field followed by a series of sepia-tinged newspaper articles outlining the violent repercussions of various land-based disputes across the length and breadth of Ireland, flash before us.
To the beat of tense and suspenseful music a cast of five progress on to the stage as a singular, entwined, sinuous ensemble. It is as if their dance began in the wings. Now the panel becomes a window, revealing Sarah Dowling as Detective Kerr. She is “reviewing cases deemed unresolved by the department” and has hauled in Luke Murphy’s character, John McHale, for questioning relating to a suspicious, accidental death in East Cork.
In an echoing of Keane’s work, we learn that English emigrant William Deane, “landlord, entrepreneur and budding mogul”, played by Will Thompson, had returned to the birthplace of his parents to buy a site ripe for development. He set his cap on the field being rented by McHale who had “met him the night he arrived and a few days later at the auction”. In the same way the land leased and cultivated by Bull McCabe meant everything to him, so too is the field with its “steep incline and growth too far gone” the life blood of John McHale.
But this show is far from a simple retelling of the 1965 original. Its dynamic use of a diverse range of elements including dance, drama, music, multimedia, set and lighting design and sound technology steers it clear of any question of appropriation.
We have line dancing with cowboy hats to country music in the local pub. A guilt ridden, insomniac sergeant, Roger Leahy, performed by Ryan O’Neill, wanders the streets at night, “If I don’t walk, I don’t sleep”. A radio host, played by Tyler Carney-Faleatua, interviews the dead man and asks him how he died. The coroner, Carney-Faleatua also, examines “the multiple impacts with severe force” on Deane’s body and “the blunt force trauma in the occipital area” of his head.
As writer and director, Murphy’s attention to detail and consideration of each and every aspect of Scorched Earth is commendable. There is integrity in his faithfulness to Keane’s original themes. For instance, a radical rendering of McHale’s obsession with his land sees him dance a passionate duet with costume designer, Alyson Cummins’, grassy anthropomorphism. In a nod to ‘Jenny’, the donkey killed and pushed into a lake in The Field, a watching, long and floppy eared apparition, appears throughout as a symbol of the destructive consequences of McHale’s rage and possessiveness. Even the character’s name, ‘William Deane’ pays tribute to Keane’s real friend and customer, William Dee and his English born nephew of the same name.
The cast and crew are equally committed to the success of this ambitious production. Individually, the troupe play to different strengths in terms of acting and dancing but as a group they are formidable. Music and lighting design help create a truly immersive experience for the audience. A scene with a music backdrop of Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain, is particularly enjoyable. However, an unnatural and distorted throbbing sound effect used on occasion, possibly to convey the pressure the suspect was feeling, was deeply unpleasant to endure. The costume worn by Carney-Faleatua for her beautifully performed solo in the aftermath of the funeral is perfect for dancing but the lavender shirt and tailored trousers combination imposed on Dowling for her role as Detective Kerr seems restrictive for any kind of movement. Myriad manifestations of the screen and desk are as inventive as they are creative.
The recreation of the field with its perpendicular slope in the final act is superb. As is the athleticism of the ensemble in their flailing, sliding and rolling attempts to overcome and crest its peak. There is a powerful moment where all five join hands, pause, and are upstanding halfway up the incline. This feels like a natural finale and it may have been best to end the sequence at that point.
Bringing the show full circle, images of the field and old newspaper articles reappear but are consumed by fire. Taking a scorched-earth approach, to prevent another man taking the land McHale considers his own by right, has only served to destroy his life and any future he ever had on his beloved field.
Runs Until 24th May 2025.
