Theatre in Review: The Same (Corcadorca Theatre Company/Irish Arts Center)Warning to producers: Advertising The Same by Enda Walsh may not produce the desired result. Audiences fatigued by such works of high intensity and minimal clarity as Ballytuk, Disco Pigs, and Grief is the Thing with Feathers, all seen in New York in recent seasons, may opt to lie down until his latest offering passes. Walsh is the very definition of an acquired taste: His penchant for fantasticated premises and unchecked verbosity are not for all markets -- although, to be sure, he has many critical defenders. It may cheer up some that The Same is a markedly different proposition from the typical Walsh festival of high-pitched acting and assaultive effects. For this brief, tightly focused two-hander, the playwright goes all Harold Pinter on us, lowering his authorial voice and wrapping his tale in multiple layers of mystery. Even as a change of pace, however, it is probably best enjoyed by his fans; for others, it may function as a compendium of the Irish theatre's more questionable elements. First among these is the tendency to tell, not show, often at exhaustive length. Irish drama is loaded with brilliant writers who often forget they are dramatists. Their gorgeous writing often makes for rewarding reading, consisting of one finely turned paragraph after another. But, too often, action is subordinated to constructs of interlocking monologues; this, I suppose, is Brian Friel's bequest to the nation, having set the tone with such works as Faith Healer and Molly Sweeney. (Let us not forget his partner in crime, Conor McPherson, who never met a soliloquy he didn't like.) In their brilliant hands, this approach can yield magical results, but, employed by others, its drawbacks are painfully obvious; too often, one feels like at a guest at a literary salon, admiring the words but wondering where the action went. Constructed of dueling narratives, The Same is an unusually tricky case because its two characters, named Lisa and The Other Lisa, share a strange symbiotic bond. The Other Lisa recalls the experience of coming to an unnamed city -- apparently following the death of her mother, to take up residence in a psychological treatment center or halfway house. While there, she ends up, briefly, on a catering gig at a funeral -- don't ask why -- where she meets another worker, also named Lisa. They share more than a name; their memories are all but identical. You could almost say they are the same person -- but what would that mean? The answer, when it comes, is surprisingly straightforward. Otherwise, The Same suffers from a certain obscurantism that is all too popular right now. What is The Other Lisa doing warming up canapes at this sad reception? Is it part of a work-release program? Is the character named Gavin her boss? Who are Claire and Avril, mentioned in passing? Adding to the cloud of confusion, the two Lisas sometimes slip into other characters without changing their voices or affects; one must guess who they are. (This was a befuddling feature of Eimear McBride and Annie Ryan's A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, another exercise in prolixity, seen at Irish Repertory a couple of months ago.) The play is founded on questions of identity and madness, but the characters are so vaguely imagined that the secret of their strange connection isn't all that compelling. Walsh skimps on the details, leaving it to the audience to fill the blanks. But his words rarely prove stimulating to one's imagination. The Same was written for the actresses (and sisters) Catherine and Eileen Walsh (no relation to Enda), who perform with unswerving concentration and commitment. (This production will forever be known in my mind as A Superfluity of Walshes, but I hope we see these gifted ladies again.) The director, Pat Kiernan, maintains a firm control over the proceedings, orchestrating the text like a piece of music and precisely cueing the shifts in Michael Hurley's lighting and Peter Power's sound design. (Power also functioned as composer.) This is the second theatre production in the Irish Arts Center's new stage, and it is interesting to see how the space has been transformed by Owen Boss' set design, representing a common room in The Other Lisa's residence. He scatters the audience around a carpeted central playing area with a dropped ceiling and such oddball touches as a bingo calling machine and a Casio keyboard that seemingly plays itself. The Same has been described by some reviewers as a psychological thriller, which is accurate as far as it goes. But instead of tension, it has narration; in the absence of suspense, it offers obfuscation. And for a playwright who so often is described as avant-garde, his ideas about the fluidity of identity and mystery of existence feel right out of the 1960s. (One wonders if he didn't screen Ingmar Bergman's Persona a few times before the play's 2017 debut.) When it comes to ideas, I guess Walsh is content to give us more of...well, you know. --David Barbour 
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