Gabriel Byrne: TVs Sweet Treat

Okay, I admit it. I've been watching TV. I have become completely hooked on HBO's new half hour drama, In Treatment.

I'll be writing my thoughts on the show as it progresses, but, today, I'm just making note of how delighted I am to see Gabriel Byrne again!

I first saw him a few years ago in NYC. He was appearing in Eugene O'Neill's A Moon for the Misbegotten, and I was utterly mesmerized by his performance. Since then, I miss no opportunity to see him. A fan? Me? Well, glory be, I guess I am. ... and I dare suggest you will be, too, once you experience his work.

It was the spring of two-thousand. I obtained tickets to the (sold out) play which was onstage at the Walter Kerr Theater, one of the medium sized houses. Eugene O'Neill happens to be one of my favorite playwrights, and the idea of seeing the exquisite Ray Dotrice in the role of Phil Hogan made it an irresistible must-see. (Now that I think of it, I'm fairly certain Mr. Dotrice won the Tony for this portrayal in the Best Actor in a Featured Role category).

Gabriel Byrne was the brave soul who took on the challenging role of James Tyrone, Jr. I had no idea what to expect where he was concerned. Not terribly ambitious about learning, I checked briefly online, and read that he was an Irish Actor. Saints preserve us! Being the Anglophile that I am, this pleased me immensely, and enough said. (As it happens, I am also fairly certain that Mr. Byrne was nominated for a Tony for this part, but I do not believe he took the statue home...)

Cherry Jones, another under appreciated, superbly brilliant actress rounded out the cast as Josie Hogan. This put me over the moon. I do not exaggerate when I say I was desperate for the days to pass until I would see it!

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Sitting in the theater, in my center section aisle seat in the tenth row, I checked my watch repeatedly as the auditorium filled to capacity. Finally, the lights lowered and the audience hushed as the curtain began to move. I held my breath...

There is no way for this writer to separate one performance, that Sunday afternoon, from the other. Each acted and reacted to the other in perfect harmony, if you'll forgive me the cliche: like an impeccably rehearsed symphony.

Gabriel Byrne stood out for me because I had never seen him before and, forgive me again, I can be an awful snob when it comes to live theater. He took hold of that character and transported me and, I think, everyone else to the 1940s. It was not just O'Neill's words that took us away; Byrne's body language, his very demeanor, was of a time gone by. What a lovely, magical partnership!

Byrne's obvious love of the material shone through. So many actors simply say lines and move about the stage, gesturing as instructed, and they get rave reviews for doing it. I have been guilty, too, of this kind of acceptance - and as long as I am entertained, this is all right with me... uh, most of the time. It's a given, our Mr. Byrne could have gotten away with giving much less than he did. Fortunately for his audience, however, it would not have been enough for him! He didn't perform Tyrone; he channeled him. There was no definitive line between the here and now and the once upon a time. The assemblage around me disappeared, and I was taken into the story, the proverbial fly on the wall of a real happening.

I want to share about the one jarring moment, that afternoon, that sealed my bond as a fan of this man's work and talent. It was near the play's conclusion. Gabriel Byrne was in the midst of the emotional third act monologue where James Tyrone speaks loving words of confession and apology, revealing the depth of his personhood to Josie Hogan. It is a heart wrenchingly serious time in the play which has, up to this point, been peppered with O'Neill's perfectly placed moments of comedic hilarity.

One of the male audience members, up front and to the actors' right, (my left), made it abundantly clear that he had no knowledge of the story and no realization of the depth of what was happening. He misunderstood the character's intent and let loose a startling guffaw at the precise moment when the actor was escorting the audience to the story's emotional crescendo. The outburst seemed extremely loud, but that may have been because the theater was silent, except for Byrne's voice. My heart sank for the actor as the explosive disturbance caused every head in the audience to turn. I wondered how he would be able to maintain his momentum and the integrity of the scene. Feeling generous, I decided no matter how he chose to handle it, my admiration for his performance would remain intact.

To my astonishment, Mr. Byrne did not need my forgiveness. His hold on the character, the time and space, and the audience never faltered. Without any sign on his face or in his cadence that he heard the young man's misguided outburst, he skillfully ushered us along on our journey to the story's conclusion and kept us unscathed.

To this day, I remember that moment, and I don't know how he did it. I have seen things like this happen to other performers and felt just as heartsick for them as I did for Mr. Byrne. Some chose to step out of character and acknowledge the evil-doer, with humor or admonishment; others hesitate, regroup, and start the scene from a previous point. One actor actually forgot the next few lines and took a moment to re-compose himself, but he had lost his focus and the character - and the scene fell flat. All these reactions were understandable. Things happen in live theater, and I feel it would be unjust to hold the actors accountable. (It's a certainty I could not do it.)

I simply do not believe the talent and presence of mind Gabriel Byrne exhibited that afternoon comes along every day. The point I mean to make is: even though I was affected emotionally in that I was so relieved and happy for Byrne because he was not yanked out of character, he continued with such impeccable timing and grace that my exuberance was shelved. It did not come through until after I had thoroughly experienced the emotion and sensitivity O'Neill intended.

It was very personal. I shudder just thinking about it, and I know my words fail miserably to express how amazing it was! And it was an unforgettable gift to witness it first hand! Someday, I hope to thank him for his love of the material, his selfless generosity to his audience, and his desire - or was it determination - to share both with us that day.


Recently, I saw the play again... with Kevin Spacey in the role of James Tyrone, Jr. Normally, I cannot be objective where Spacey is concerned, because he is one of my favorite actors. In this case, however, I have to confess, he could not inhabit the person of Tyrone for me. It belongs forever to someone else.

I'm thinking In Treatment may turn out to be treatment for me!

There. Now that I have that out of my system, I'll move on to discussing the show:
Uh, I like it. *chortle* It satisfies some seedy sense of voyeurism I never knew I had in me...

More later.

CM