"Under the Whaleback' at the Wilma

I walked into Under The Whaleback expecting a frothy comedy like Richard Bean's One Man, Two Guvnors. Instead, I saw a drama that resembled the gruesome work of Martin McDonagh.

Richard Bean is a former stand-up comedian whose previous effort, One Man, Two Guvnors, was a wacky farce (adapted from Servant of Two Masters, the 1743 Commedia dell'arte comedy by Carlo Goldoni) that was praised for its ridiculously British high-low antics and wordplay.

Under the Whaleback, on the other hand, is a gripping look at a quaint foreign culture, full of foreboding and culminating in painful violence— much like McDonagh's The Lieutenant of Inishmore, The Cripple of Inishmaan and A Skull in Connemara. It has its moments of dark humor, but most of the laughter this play generates is the nervous type, caused by cruel comments of one character to another.

Death at sea

Under the Whaleback takes place on three fishing ships based in Hull, in the north of England. The three acts are set decades apart and show us three separate vessels, with young characters from the early years returning as old-timers later on. By the last excruciating act, a former fishing vessel has been transformed into a museum.

Heritage and legacy are the marrow of this play— not only the history of the fishing culture and its decay, but also the impact of individuals on later generations.

Pearce Bunting is salty and profane as the veteran fisherman Cassidy, who says, "You've got to understand one thing, son. Me father died at sea and his father died at sea and his father afore him." Brian Ratcliffe is callow as his shipmate Darrel, who is 17 in the opening act and who later turns out to be Cassidy's illegitimate son.

Keith Conallen is chilling as Pat, the unsettled boy in the last act who blames Darrel for his father's death. Best of all is Bunting when he returns as the aging Darrel, superbly conveying his pain.

Rolling sea-set

Matt Saunders created a hulking set that shows the deck as well as the cramped living quarters below. With its hydraulic system, the set rolls with the sea and bobs from side to side during a storm. Its effects are coordinated with atmospheric sound designed by Daniel Perelstein and vivid lighting by Allen Hahn.

Under the Whaleback premiered in England in 2003 but this is its North American debut. Given its agonizingly shocking denouement, it's obvious why some producers and audiences might recoil from the play, so bravo to director Blanka Zizka for tackling it so effectively.

One caveat: A dialogue coach instructed the cast to speak with the correct accents of northern England, which rendered some of the dialogue indecipherable. Might just a hint of accent suffice? Is authenticity more important than communication? If so, why not perform Sophocles in Greek?