Reviews

Last Confessions of a Scallywag (Mill at Sonning)

Sarah Berger’s production is good, old-fashioned fun

The peeling wallpaper and the crucifix hanging above the bed have both been around for a long time. And so has Patrick Lynch, who is lying there motionless. Is he about to expire? "His condition isn’t listed in any book I know," says Dr Soames (Michael Lumsden), shaking his head sadly. Father Ryan arrives, anxious to obtain a Confession before he administers the Last Rites. Housekeeper Miss Matty (Susan Stanley) is praised for her "selfless devotion" to the old boy.

But this is Ireland, and everything isn’t quite as it seems. A flicker of a reaction passes across Patrick’s face as Father Ryan passes judgement: "He has the face of an angel, and the mind of the Devil". There’s further reaction when neighbour Sarah Bennett (Natalie Ogle) arrives to pay her last respects, and make her own confession: "I said terrible things about you to the men down at the Club," she admits, "Talking about a tight purse, and a loose how’s your father".

Thus begins Last Confessions of a Scallywag by Dwina Murphy-Gibb, widow of Bee Gees star Robin Gibb. This is her first play, and she has jumped straight in at the deep end with a farce. The result could easily have been an embarrassing disaster, but Murphy-Gibb has a great ear for dialogue, and a strong instinct when it comes to developing a comic situation – especially an Irish comic situation. Born in County Tyrone, she has plainly drawn on her roots.

Murphy-Gibb is served by a strong team in this Mill at Sonning in-house production. Director Sarah Berger (who has also enjoyed an extensive career as an actress) sets a cracking pace, and moves swiftly over the occasional patch of dialogue that could still do with tightening up.

Douglas McFerran tops the cast as Patrick, and plainly revels in every one of the many opportunities offered to him. Without giving too much away, Patrick rises from the near dead and reappears as his wife Bertha, who has long since fled to America. To avoid detection, he hides beneath an enormous black hat, leaving only downturned scarlet lips visible. The effect is hilariously reminiscent of Les Dawson or Roy Barraclough in their Cissie and Ada comedy double act. Prominent, too, is Keiran Flynn as the unctuous and ambitious Father Ryan – somewhat camp in manner, the Father smells a Bishopric coming his way.

Cutting edge, alternative comedy Scallywag is not, but it provides plenty of good, old-fashioned laughs. In days of old, it might well have become staple fare for repertory companies.