Writer: Aoife O’Connor
Director: Katie O’Halloran
The lights come up on the living room of 37 year old teacher Lily’s comfortable apartment in a nice part of Dublin. Sam, her wedding singer girlfriend, is strumming a guitar on the couch. Softly, she sings that she’ll “be home for Christmas” and that we “can count” on her. Then, in a mischievous dash, Sam whips out a string of lurid coloured lights to layer over Lily’s tasteful white arrangement on their Christmas tree. It is a precursor to the contrariness in the couple’s personalities, situations and backgrounds which become increasingly apparent as the action unfolds.
Lily arrives home and the nature of her relationship with Sam is quickly established. The pair came together two years previously to the song ‘1950’ by King Princess which celebrates queer love and undying desire. There is much tactility and there are many ‘I love you’s’.
But while the duo are enamoured of each other, it is a case of never the twain shall meet where friends and family are concerned. ‘Bohs’ (Bohemian Football Club) supporting pals of Sam are not going to take two bus journeys to visit. And the perceived privilege of Lily’s struggling friend, Laura, irritates Sam who herself had no access to proper care and support during her own mental health battles. There was no ‘John of God’s’ (St. John of God University Hospital) for her.
As you’ll have gathered from its title, the main premise of the play is the couple’s fervent wish for a baby. Or Lily’s certainly. ‘Reciprocal IVF’ is where eggs are collected from one woman of a same sex couple, fertilised with donor sperm, and then transferred into her partner’s womb. The pair examine the various options available to them under Irish law. Lily “feels like a second class citizen in her own country”. Sam’s anxiety goes into overdrive as relentless, seemingly insurmountable obstacles barrel towards them and the associated costs filter down. She has no desire “to be paying installments on” her baby but a donation from willing friend Alan and a turkey baster are not going to cut it either.
Her prickliness knows no bounds when Lily suggests asking her parents for help. Sam grew up “without money” and in a hurtful diatribe refers to Lily’s family as ‘The Brady Bunch’. Exasperated, Lily angrily retorts that “for someone who hates privilege”, Sam “has no problem taking advantage of it”, Marks and Spencer’s groceries and bottles of Prosecco being a case in point. The twosome make up but their “fighting feels worse than normal couples” and fissures are forming.
In the production’s impactful promotional material we learn that ‘IN VITRO’ was based on the playwright’s personal experience – “Going through IVF with my wife revealed that Ireland’s hard-won marriage equality still doesn’t extend to queer parents or their children. That realisation – and the invisibility of this discrimination – compelled me to write this play in the hope of building momentum for change”.
Aoife O’Connor succeeds unequivocally in conveying this hard-hitting and heartfelt message to her audience. Notwithstanding the importance of the subject matter, however, and although much appreciated levity is utilised on occasion, its delivery is laboured at times. There is a danger that statistics, facts and figures have been inserted throughout the dialogue to excess, at the expense of dramatic flow. Too much information can slow the pace of a plot and make an audience feel bogged down. Both God and the Devil are in the details so sometimes less is more.
The falling action of IN VITRO sees the festive season roll around again. We watch sadly as Sam packs a green rucksack, rolls up the floor rug, dons her red hat and exits the apartment. In a final bookend scene, Lily sobs as she attends to the white lights of her Christmas tree. We once again hear Sam’s beautiful rendition of Bing Crosby’s famous holiday song only this time she sings off-stage. She won’t “be home for Christmas” and we cannot “count on” her. And while we ache for Lily, it is a wonderful surprise when she turns around and we realise her soothing “it’s ok”, “you’re ok”, is not meant for just herself but also for the baby that she is obviously carrying.
Emma Barr and Clodagh Mooney-Duggan give sincere and accomplished performances as Sam and Lily respectively. They are most ably directed by Katie O’Halloran, assisted by Luka Costello. Action is further enhanced by design on lighting from Colm Maher, on sound by HK Ni Shioradain and on set from Mar Pares Baraldes.
Runs Until 21st Feb 2026.
