George Bernard Shaw’s The Devil’s Disciple isn’t offered often, and Irish Rep’s revival, misdirected by Tony Walton, underscores the reason why. Even the playwright, in a preface to a 1900 anthology that Irish Rep excerpts in its program, acknowledged the play “does not contain a single even passably novel incident.” It’s real value relates to it being the first Shaw work successfully mounted in the U.S., when its cast was spearheaded by a grand, pompous blowhard named Richard Mansfield, the Richard Burton of his day.
While I can’t vouch for Mansfield’s acting, the cast in this revival disappointed me. Mostly, I thought the actors were misinterpreting the comedy in Shaw’s script, which is sly, subtle and wholly situational, as an excuse to transform actual characters into reaction-driven cartoons.
One exception, however, is Lorenzo Pisoni as the lead, Richard Dudgeon (usually called Dick). Set in New Hampshire as the American Revolution begins, the play paints Dudgeon as a godless scion of a god-fearing, Puritanical family. With his father and uncle executed by the heartless British, Dick arrives at the home of his estranged mother (Darcy Pulliam) to hear his father’s will read. His mother expects to keep her wealth, but Dick’s father, rewriting his will virtually with his head on the block, leaves her a pittance. Dick, the big winner in the inheritance sweepstakes, moves swiftly to seize control of the house—demanding, for example, that his illegitimate cousin Essie (Cristin Milioti) be treated respectfully.
With sparkling white teeth and a swashbuckling mien, Pisoni is all about Dick’s outré outrageousness, attacking with relish the quips of blasphemy that send everyone else into a fury—like Judith Anderson (Jenny Fellner), wife of Anthony (Curzon Dobell), local minister. One day, Dick pays the Andersons a visit when news comes that Dick’s mother is dying. Anthony rushes off to succor her and the scene turns sensuous—Dick, who has made no secret of being a rebel, turns on the charm enough to make Judith squirm. Then the British arrive, looking for Anthony, a known rebel as well. Motivated by selflessness or chivalry, Dick says that he is Anthony and is carried off. The rest of the play pivots on whether Judith can stop the execution and whether Anthony will learn what Dick has done for him.
At Irish Rep, the two audience sections are perpendicular to each other, with an annoying column at the vortex. I’ve seen many plays staged exquisitely there, yet Walton’s staging seemed not so much ignorant about how to stage a play in such a house as unconcerned with thinking about it. That might even be fine if the acting was tight: if the actors deeply engaged one another; if their connections conveyed the organic. When Dick takes Judith in his arms, Fellner weakens her body and flutters her eyes as if in a silent film—a cheap gag unworthy of Shavian comedy. Too much superficiality infected too many performances overall, although John Windsor- Cunningham, as the wonderfully acerbic General Burgoyne, is the revival’s other exception. The way he bullies Major Swindon (Robert Sedgwick) saves Act II from making the threatened beheading of Dick or Anthony a matter of relief. I love Irish Rep, but please stick a pitchfork in this one—it’s done.
Through Jan. 27. Irish Repertory Theatre, 132 W. 22nd St. (betw. 6th & 7th Aves.), 212-727-2737; $55-$60.
