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Hangmen by Martin McDonagh at Atlantic Theater Company

There are two words that never fail to excite me when it comes to theater (and nowadays, film): Martin McDonagh. The Pillowman was the first play I ever saw on stage, and to this day remains the best production I've ever seen. It was perfect. And it led me to devour the rest of McDonagh's body of work, and ultimately, he became one of my biggest influences as a playwright. He truly is a genius.

His work over the last seven or eight years, however, has had diminishing returns. And yet, still admirable. McDonagh is writing out of his comfort zone, getting more creative, no longer writing what he knows. Granted, something like The Beauty Queen of Leenane is brilliant but McDonagh could not write plays about small town Irish life forever. And I love that he himself acknowledged this and is branching out. Quite frankly, if you ask me, between his plays and his movies, no two works are alike (even the plays that are connected.)

So when his Olivier-winning play Hangmen was announced as part of the Atlantic Theater Company's 2017-2018 season, I was ecstatic.

But much like McDonagh's work this decade, Hangmen is admirable and creative but ultimately just...okay. Of course because it is McDonagh, it is better than most of the other work on stage in New York.

The issue I have with Hangmen is that is it just isn't dynamic enough. McDonagh sets his play in the 1960s, the end of capital punishment in the UK. The protagonist, Harry (played by the always terrific Mark Addy), is the number two hangmen in England, who now owns a pub and is something of a local celebrity. Other than three very short scenes, the action of play takes place in the pub, where the locals drink and reminisce, where Harry's wife Alice pulls pints, and Harry laments losing his esteemed position.

Until the play becomes a classic "a stranger comes to town" story.

Now, you'd think this is when the play comes to life. And I suppose, essentially it does. Or else it would just be a northern English episode of Cheers. But the problem is that from the moment Peter Mooney (played with the right mix of menace and charm by the amazing Johnny Flynn) enters into the action, I knew exactly where the play was going. There's far too much talk of the possibility of James Hennessy (the young man we see hanged in the opening scene) actually being innocent, and with copy-cat crimes still happening to young women in the area to not immediately think, "Oh, this Peter is up to no good." Toss in Harry and Alice's homely, shy fifteen year old daughter Shirley, who of course immediately takes a liking to Peter, and you know exactly how this is going to end.

Well, admittedly, it doesn't quite go where I thought it would go because McDonagh is McDonagh so there's a Wee Thomas-esque twist at the end. It's almost too cheap, too big of a "gotcha!" moment, that a seasoned writer such as McDonagh should not have to use as a crutch. In fact, the whole thing comes off as McDonagh simply telling his audiences that capital punishment is wrong (just like The Lieutenant of Inishmore's point that people are dying in Ireland for nothing). There really isn't any layers, any meat on the bone.

Through the character of Mooney, McDonagh attempts to set up a sort of cat-and-mouse tale but it ultimately goes nowhere. It's too convoluted. Why is he here, of all places? What does he want? What are his motives? We are soon re-introduced to Syd, Harry's former partner-in-hanging who was fired for being too lewd for the job. Why does he return? It seems like he wants to haunt Harry about Hennessy's execution, that he wants revenge for some reason. That he has sent Mooney to the pub just to mess with him. But then Mooney turns the tables on Syd (in the second act opener and the play's best scene), and it's never quite clear what either of the men's motivations are. Syd's qualms with Harry don't seem strong enough for him to enact revenge, or even just to mess with him, and it doesn't seem like Mooney is even getting anything out of the proceedings. There's interesting material here but questions aren't answered. Everything needs to be fleshed out. Less pint pulling and more exploration of the Syd/Mooney dynamic. (And oh, please, don't get me started on Maxwell Caufield's 11 o'clock entrance that just stops the play dead in its tracks. I get that it's supposed to create tension and comedy but c'mon. I was already ready to go home. You're just delaying the proceedings.)



Is this McDonagh's worse play? No, not by a mile. Is it his most disappointing? Perhaps. There's great material here but not enough happens. It's not even thrilling. There's no tension. It practically needs to be repackaged. This is a good first draft but trim the fat and get to the meat of the material.

It's also not very funny. This is from the man who made me howl with laughter over the murders of children and IRA terrorism. Other than a few teehees and chuckles, the audience seemed to have agreed with me.

But what do I know? This thing won an Olivier.

(Side note: between this and Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, I'm a little concerned about McDonagh's treatment of women these days.)

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