The Last Days of a Reluctant Tyrant, By Tom Murphy, Abbey Theatre, until July 11

The Last Days of a Reluctant Tyrant is Tom Murphy’s 17th work to premiere at Ireland’s national theatre.

Lauded as he is as one of the country’s greatest living playwrights and - according to Colm Toibin - ‘‘the nearest thing we have to genius’’, the premiere of any work by Murphy generates much anticipation in the world of Irish theatre.

Combine this with the fact that actors of the calibre of MarieMullen and Declan Conlon are among the cast, and that the publicity in the run-up to the opening night included terms like ‘epic’, ‘tragic’ and ‘haunting’, and it’s easy to understand why expectations were running high.

Inspired by Russian novelist Mikhail Saltykov-Shchedrin’s 19th century novel The Golovlyov Family, the play tells the story of ambitious matriarch Arina (Mullen) who, with a will of iron and a sharp tongue, greatly increases the size of a once-puny estate. Now elderly, and surrounded by housekeepers, parishioners and her grown-up sons - all of whom fear and respect her intelligence and determination - Arina suppresses her emotional disappointments and losses by clinging to the memory of her achievements.

Tight-lipped and stern, Mullen’s slight frame beside her taller charges imbues Arina with a great sense of dominance. But, for the most part, her performance is over the top, and she shouts almost all her lines without much range. In fact, there is a lot of unnecessary shouting on stage in general.

As Arina’s slithery son Peter, Conlon brings his usual vivid presence to the production. But disappointingly, the rest of the 18strong cast are largely forgettable or hammy and, despite their strong ties, most of them seem adrift from each other.

Somewhere between page and stage, the tragic events of the play have been lost in translation, and events including murder, kidnapping and incest inspire no emotional impact. Visually, however,

this production is a pleasure. The doom and gloom of its setting - an unspecified time in a provincial rural town - is portrayed by a mostly drab palette of browns and greys, pierced only occasionally by flashes of pink or orange. And for his first production as sound designer at the Abbey, Ben Delaney provides the play with one of its few saving graces: an almost cinematic score which lends a much-needed emotive atmosphere.

Ultimately, though, this work lacks cohesion. A sense of restlessness runs throughout Murphy’s script, and the hurried development of characters and relationships is at the expense of giving the play an anchor.

There will be a sign language interpreted performance of this show on June 20 (2pm) and a captioned and audio-described performance on June 27 (2pm).

Rating: **