Exploring a decade-long estrangement: Steppenwolf's "Dublin Carol" Reviewed

Christmas in Dublin.

Soaked in alcohol.

Remorse for the past.

The context is so familiar, Irish playwright and director Conor McPherson's "Dublin Carol" recalls countless stories. But like a blues song, you're not looking for a departure in form, it's whether the play can deliver within a well-worn structure.

McPherson has done it before, exploring drunks and guilt-ridden souls to great acclaim, but this time the results are more grim and desolate. It'll give audiences a chance to see actor William Petersen of tv drama fame in a very different light, as he stars in Steppenwolf's production running through December 28. It's a homecoming for Petersen, who cut his teeth in Chicago theater years before becoming a household name through "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation." One of the decade's most popular television shows, Petersen stepped down as the series lead earlier this year to make time for other acting pursuits. "Dublin Carol" is the first.

The story settles inside a funeral home, where the undertaker, John, rests with his young assistant, Mark, following a service. John tests Mark's patience with long monologues, so much it's amusing when he compliments him on his "great listening quality." But it's also obvious John isn't looking for interaction. You suspect he's verging towards some kind of confession. Just maybe it'll come out, and maybe with the right dose of whiskey, he'll dislodge the words.

With Mark, he doesn't quite get there. Instead, he talks and talks, circling around something that's not far from his mind. The way John moves, like the way he snaps his quick social gestures, feel evasive to what's bubbling underneath. His blunt jokes are very amusing, but they don't leave a warm glow on his face. He looks appropriately worn and battered, and it's not until later, when Mary, his estranged daughter, arrives, that the reasons why really begin to bleed through.

The play isn't interested in big dramatic moments. We don't witness John's reaction to seeing Mary for the first time in ten years. We're there to wade through the charred emotions stirred up in their wake, and as John, Petersen is most affecting in this long and awkward encounter. He struggles to articulate his abandonment of his family, and when he rationalizes his sins with fear, you get the sense that the same terror has never left him. Earlier in the play, when he praises Mark's uncle Noel for bringing him work and some kind of stability in his life, he also talks about Noel's undignified infirmary. For a moment, he dwells on it like it was his own future.

The other constant between then and now is alcohol. He may not drown in it like he once he did, but John still relies on it, and despite claims to the contrary, drinking is no way to forget. Even if it muddles his senses, he still feels the full weight of what's been buried. The underlying despair will always be there.

The play loses itself in this bleak reality, so much that it tastes like a bitter pill without the cure. Self-pity is more convincing than compassion, and when Mary says she loves John, it doesn't leave much of an impression. There's no reason to question her sincerity, but whatever affection she or John may claim for one another feels hollow, not nearly as real as their pain and resentment. A decade's worth of estrangement makes any connection difficult, but the need to make that connection, beyond a pressing matter that needed to be attended to, barely makes it through. The vague potential of what Mark may find in his own future suggests what John has missed, but even then, I'm not sure John would have found any solace had he quit drinking and stayed with his family. What plagues him goes beyond that.

"Dublin Carol" runs through December 28 at Steppenwolf Theatre Company, 1635 N. Halsted St. Tickets: $50-70 with student discounts available. Tickets available at 312-335-1650 or online at www.steppenwolf.org. Stephen Louis Grush is Mark, Nicole Wiesner is Mary and William Petersen is John in Conor McPherson's "Dublin Carol," directed by Steppenwolf ensemble member Amy Morton.