Nothing Is Agreed Until Everything Is Agreed—By PJ

Photo from Irish Art Center’s Twitter account. 

Nothing Is Agreed Until Everything Is Agreed

In which PJ reviews a play whose topic is plausibly tangential to U2.

PJ DeGenaro

“Nothing is agreed until everything is agreed.”

This is the opening line of Northern Irish author Owen McCafferty’s play, Agreement. The line is repeated several times, in sonorous yet friendly tones, by actor Richard Croxford in his role as U.S. Senator George Mitchell.

Agreement is a propulsive, moving and frequently surreal and funny play about the final four days that led to the signing of the Good Friday Agreement of 1998, which would pave the way to peace in Northern Ireland. An award-winning production of Belfast’s Lyric Theatre, it is being performed through May 12 at the J.L. Greene Theatre—a brand new space inside New York City’s Irish Arts Center.

In the program notes, director Charlotte Westenra says, “The play is called ‘Agreement’ and not ‘The Agreement’ as it has resonance beyond its specific setting.” And yes, given the various geopolitical tensions we now face, it’s tempting to cite the Good Friday Agreement as an example of how centuries of violent enmity can be undone if all the players would just come together and compromise.

I will admit I had to check my feelings and worries about current events at the theater door — as well as my recent ambivalence toward Ireland, a country I hold dear—but in the end it was very much worth the effort.

The negotiations that led to the Good Friday Agreement unfolded in a government complex in Belfast called the Castle Buildings. As this setting isn’t replicable in a small theater, the cast changes the sets by rearranging wheeled desks with frantic but precise choreography. There’s a lot of paper everywhere, and at the back, a pair of massive tea urns on a trolley. Anyone who has ever worked up to a strict deadline will recognize the pressure, the interpersonal tensions, the exhaustion, and the particular grunginess of office clothes worn for more than 24 hours.

A round projection screen at the back of the stage serves as a window showing a night sky with clouds drifting across. Later, it functions as a television for recreated press conferences. Toward the end of the play, it becomes a ticking clock.

My knowledge of political parties and factions outside the United States is admittedly limited, so here is a quick rundown of the cast of characters. Please note that each one has a Wikipedia page about a mile long and I can only scratch the surface.

John Hume, leader of the Social Democratic and Labour Party in Northern Ireland from 1979 to 2001, for whom peace, cooperation and civil rights for the working people of Northern Ireland were paramount (coincidentally, it was my turn to compile the news for atu2.com the week he died);

David Trimble, leader of the Ulster Unionist Party, whose stubborn loyalty to the United Kingdom nearly upended the Agreement;

Gerry Adams, president of Sinn Fein, a party considered the political arm of the Irish Republican Army, who insisted that the quick release of IRA members jailed for acts of violence be part of the Agreement;

Mo Mowlam, the only woman in the room, a British Labour Party politician who was Secretary of State for Northern Ireland in 1998;

Bertie Ahern, a member of the Irish Republic’s Fianna Fáil party who served as Taoiseach (similar to prime minister) of Ireland from 1997 to 2008; whose mother died in the midst of the negotiations;

Tony Blair, a British Labour Party politician who served as Prime Minister of the UK from 1997 to 2007; he was considered a counterpart to Bill Clinton given his relative youth, energy and charisma.

U2 fans will have seen the iconic photos of Bono holding hands with Trimble and Hume, both of whom ultimately won the Nobel Peace Prize, just ahead of the referendum in which the people of Northern Ireland voted to uphold the Agreement. (See also Derry Girls.)

The cast is wonderful, each actor compulsively watchable as they interact in a series of intense one-on-one conversations, but three in particular stand out for me:

Andrea Irvine plays Mo Mowlam, the only woman who featured prominently in the negotiations, and who joked bitterly that she was reduced to the status of “tea lady.” This is not apparent in the play. The real-life Mowlam was living with brain cancer in 1998, and as the negotiations grind on, Irvine removes her blonde wig to reveal a bare scalp with just a bit of straggly hair. She subsequently takes off her jacket and shoes and un-tucks her blouse, padding around the men and the desks in stocking feet. Yet there is nothing vulnerable about her. Her exhaustion is evident, but the men respond to her innate force and mordant wit. Irvine is a powerful actor portraying a powerful woman.

Ruairi Conaghan as David Trimble is saddled with the role of “the heavy, —an inflexible man with a bad back who stubbornly insists he’s British, and refuses to budge on certain aspects of the agreement that would lead to power sharing between all parties. The character is literally stiff and mostly unsympathetic, yet over the course of the play he seems to soften, visually, as Hume and Brown wear him down. You end up feeling for him as he agrees to let go of the foundational beliefs on which he’s built his career and his life.

Martin Hutson as Tony Blair enters like an actual rock star, accompanied by pounding music and recorded applause. Early on, he plays the UK Prime Minister for laughs, capering and looking like a complete lightweight. Hutson’s strength is in his ability to pivot smoothly from comic relief to moments of angry clarity when Blair’s determination to see the process through comes to the fore, and you remember that he is, in fact, in charge of the entire United Kingdom, including Northern Ireland.

A note on the American characters: Senator George Mitchell, who was Bill Clinton’s special envoy to Northern Ireland, is from Maine and has a strong New England accent; Richard Croxford’s accent is a bit generic. This is not a big deal, and I doubt there are many American actors who could play an Irish person for an hour and forty minutes without sounding like the Lucky Charms Leprechaun. However, they should have enlisted Bono to do the Bill Clinton voice overs, which didn’t have much Clinton in them at all.

Agreement races to a climax as each character is worn down enough by the others to give up something they hold dear (in particular the hardliners, Trimble and Adams, though one has the sense that Adams gets off a bit lightly) in service of an outcome they can only hope will mark the end of centuries of conflict and violence that gripped Ireland and held back its progress.

There is no heavy-handed moral here, just a profound sense of wonder at what this group of flawed human beings, with their stacks of paper, their stale shirts, their private grief, and their palpable mortality managed to accomplish. 

If they could do that, couldn’t anyone? 

(Yes, we in the audience were all sniffling discreetly by the end.)

Agreement runs through May 12 at the Irish Arts Center. If you’re in the area, I highly recommend checking it out. All the info is here.