In a world where it has become second nature to check Facebook every eight milliseconds, flip channels so fast it'd make the countdown clock dizzy, and digest information in soundbites and quotes, it's rare to find oneself so engrossed in something that three hours fly by without the twitch of a thumb. Yet Jez Butterworth's triumphant return to the West End does just that, and instead of reaching for social media at The Ferryman's denouement, I felt I needed more time to digest the breathtaking, brilliant piece of theatre I had just witnessed.

Set in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, The Ferryman centres on the Carney family, at the head of which acclaimed actor Paddy Considine pulls no punches as patriarch Quinn Carney. It opens with a chaotic yet cosy patchwork pattern of family life on Harvest Day at their rural farm. As the sun rises so do the colorful characters that populate the story - Quinn's boisterous daughters could make a sailor blush with their blue language, his strapping sons rouse the rabble with their banter, the hilarious Uncle Pat bickers with his disapproving Aunt Pat.

This semblance of pure, pastoral living casts a dark shadow when local clergyman Father Horrigan brings news of Quinn's missing brother, whose body was recently unearthed in a local bog. His sister-in-law Caitlin is dealt a crushing blow, yet in the spirit of Harvest Day, she chooses to wait to share the news of her husband's death, news that only Quinn and herself are privvy to. Wheels are set in motion and grievances, political alliances and muted longings bubble to the surface as Quinn's past connections to the IRA slowly come to light.

The Ferryman is a master class in storytelling, tension and release, with each scene expertly paced. Butterworth's writing is astoundingly rich with the poetic parlance of the Emerald Isle. Pure theatre magic is created when this expertly crafted dialogue meets a brilliant ensemble cast. The actors create a seamless world on stage, with an authenticity I never doubt for a minute. Film and TV veteran Considine is a remarkable driving force, imbuing the role with a subtlety that gives way to unbridled rage. Yet he's not the only one. It's the kind of story where every character carries the weight of the action, each holding their own. Laura Donnelly's Caitlin brilliantly mirrors Considine's Quinn, both are strong and fiery, yet wounded, and ultimately undone by the past.

From the very opening of the play I was struck by the feeling that this is what serious theatre strives to be. A drama at its core, there are moments of comedy and calmness that underpin and enhance the growing suspense, forming a watertight production that I find difficult to fault. A true benchmark of the West End's modern classics, I hope to see it revived throughout my lifetime. I can't recommend this five star revelation enough.

REVIEWED BY TEIA FREGONA

Tuesday 27 June 2017
Gielgud Theatre, London

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