Erin Go Broadway?

Philly's new Irish theater strives for serious amid leprechauns and dancing lords.


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Published: Jan 14, 2009

Michael T. Regan

PLUCK OF THE IRISH: Inis Nua Theatre Co. founder Tom Reing (right), with Skin Deep's Jared Michael Delaney, seeks to fill a cultural gap in the Philadelphia performing-arts scene.

Inis Nua Theatre Co.'s first-ever season brochure reads like a Gaelic primer: Inis Nua means "new island"; "ar cirpíni" says you're "on tindersticks" (that is, excited); and "What's the craic?" (pronounced "crack") is Irish for "What's going on?" So what's the craic, exactly? For Inis Nua, it's a meeting of cultures through contemporary plays from Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England.

Beckoning us to this new island is Inis Nua founder Tom Reing, who conceived his theater's unique identity after seeing Paul Meade's Skin Deep in Dublin in 2003, and realizing that "no theater in Philadelphia seemed like a right match to pitch it." To do it, he'd need a company. Now the powerful drama about greed and deception is Inis Nua's first 2009 production, a U.S. première.

Like many local artists, Reing launched Inis Nua through the Live Arts Festival & Philly Fringe, with well-received productions staged in art galleries and bars: A Play on Two Chairs (Ireland, 2004), Tadhg Stray Wandered In (Ireland, 2005), Crazy Gary's Mobile Disco (Wales, 2006) and Trad (Ireland, 2007). After developing a stable of actors and collecting encouraging reviews, the perilous next step — a season outside the Fringe — loomed.

Is there an audience here for unknown plays from a place separated from America, as George Bernard Shaw famously said, by a common language?

"In my opinion," Reing says, "that's where some of the most exciting theater nowadays is coming from. Just look at what was in New York last year: Black Watch [Scotland] and The Walworth Farce [Ireland] got the most praise. Philly has such a vibrant theater community with so many theaters, this is just our niche."

Reing looks to the city's many Irish organizations for new audiences, as well as the area's many Irish pubs; Fergie's, Yello' Bar, St. Stephen's Green, Black Sheep, Dark Horse and the Bards are already supporters. Which leads to the uncomfortable subject of stereotypes — e.g. the drunken Irishman. "This show was produced without the use of any shamrocks, green beer or blarney stones," reads a Skin Deep program note. "No leprechauns or 'lords of the dance' were harmed in the making of this production."

Do we sense a hint of sarcasm?

"Enough of the thatched cottages, turf on the fire, 'the Brits are keepin' us down,' and Quiet Man set pieces," responds Reing. "Lord of the Dance? That just makes me cringe! Our focus on Irish language in our brochure tries to show a reclaimed modern language, not some quaint forgotten language on a country road sign.

"I don't mean to slag Quiet Man," Reing relents. "That film is very dear to me. Just people's perception of Ireland as only that and still that."

Like his previous play choices, Skin Deep confirms Reing's lack of sentimentality about the emerald isle. The searing drama features Charlie DelMarcelle as a desperate artist who concocts a show featuring an actual human foot secured from a debt-ridden med student (Melissa Lynch). His photographer roommate (Jared Michael Delaney) and a skeptical reporter (Corinna Burns) become tangled in a thriller exploring the boundaries between public and private — how much do we own our images, our experiences, our bodies? — and all four characters' struggle between personal and professional integrity and a desperate need for cash.

Save for the cast's expert accents and a few words (change "guards" to "cops," "mobile" to "cell phone"), Skin Deep could happen in New York, Los Angeles — hell, even Philadelphia. That Meade loosely based his play on English dead-flesh artist Damien Hirst hardly insists on a United Kingdom setting.

"I think the rhythm of the language is still very Irish," says Reing about Skin Deep. "The modernity of the play is the Dublin I know. Yes, our cultures are becoming more infused — Dan [the photographer] says 'It's kosher,' a phrase Meade says he acquired from all the U.S. sitcom imports — and I think that's where Inis Nua's relevance comes in. A great deal of the plays we are considering are a different culture, heavily influenced by America and shooting that hybrid culture back at us through their prism. That's interesting to me."

Inis Nua's season continues with Mark O'Rowe's Made in China, which imagines a Dublin underworld of marital artists, rogue cops and savage lowlifes (May 12-24); and readings of plays from Ireland, Scotland and Wales in February, March and April.

The last Gaelic phrase Inis Nua's brochure teaches is "ticéad séasúir" — season ticket — not so subtly reminding theatergoers that purchasing one is what keeps a small new theater company alive. Which is no small potatoes.

(m_cofta@citypaper.net)

Skin Deep runs through Jan. 18, Adrienne Theatre, 2030 Sansom St., 215-454-9776, inisnuatheatre.org.