Full disclosure: I am an admirer of Seamus O’Rourke’s work. I have been fortunate enough to see most of his plays, all of which I enjoyed immensely. Saying that, one would not describe them all as masterpieces.
I recall a conversation I had with Seamus some time ago about Brian Friel. He pointed out that although Friel wrote over thirty plays, he would mostly be known for a few. The rest are rarely revived, and largely forgotten. As Seamus put it himself “They can’t all be hits, like.”
Since departing amateur drama, O’Rourke’s career in professional theatre has gone from strength to strength. He has always been an outsider, far removed from the established order in Dublin. His work is the opposite of pretentious: it is very much relatable theatre, suitable for the common man or woman, who may not be inclined to darken the door of The Abbey or The Gate.
During the recession, O’Rourke left a secure, well-paying job to embark on a career as a professional actor. I have it on good authority that many locals in his hometown of Carrigallen, Co Leitrim, thought he was stone mad for doing so. His journey began in GAA clubhouses and rural community halls, eventually leading to packed houses in prestigious theatres across the country. Yet he never lost loyalty to his base, and this show in Cavanacarragh Hall serves as proof. This is a venue which, frankly, I struggled to find on Google Maps.
Sadly, there was a disruptive audience member sitting behind me, who was eventually removed. This effectively ruined the first half of the show. Fortunately I caught this play at the O’Donoghue Centre during the Galway Theatre Festival a few months ago, so this review is more reflective of the earlier performance.
Indigestion tells the story of a young man from Cavan who takes off to London at the age of seventeen to work in construction. As the play progresses, we come to realise that he is suffering from what we now know as ‘anxiety’ or ‘depression’, but what he simply refers to as ‘indigestion’. He has anger issues, struggles with his weight, and gets himself into all kinds of trouble. Eventually he returns to Ireland where further friction with his family ensues.
Usually, when it comes to comedies, it can take a while for an audience to settle. Even with the best of plays, the opening five or ten minutes can often be uncomfortable, with jokes failing to land, save for a few pity laughs. But with Indigestion, O’Rourke has us eating out of the palm of his hand from the opening line. It is, quite literally, a laugh a minute for the first two-thirds of the play. Then, it gently slows down, and takes a poignant turn. Although this is one of the funniest plays I have ever seen, to call it a ‘comedy’ would be a terrible injustice. It is so much more than that.
The real power of the play can be felt in the room by those who have either been part of the Irish diaspora in London, or have had a family member gone, which is effectively everyone. And in an era where the standing ovation has become somewhat of a meaningless act - many stand more out of awkwardness than anything else - this is one of the few shows where everyone in unison could not get to their feet quick enough; the accompanying cheers and roars cement the feeling that this is an important play.
To date, O’Rourke has produced six one-man shows, most of which were commercial successes. This is his masterpiece.
Indigestion comes to The Town Hall Theatre, Galway, on November 2.
