A Timely Telling of an Overdue Change in the Irish Story

How it’s New York: Maz and Bricks is part of Origin’s 1st Irish festival here in NYC
How it’s Irish: All the plays, readings, films have an Irish connection.

In 2018, the 8th Amendment to the Irish Constitution, which gave equal rights to the fetus and the pregnant woman, was overturned by a majority of Irish people. A landmark decision for the country and its people. Origin’s 1st Irish festival has not one, but two plays covering the repeal of the 8th in this year offerings. I saw one of them, Maz and Bricks, at 59E59 Theaters on Saturday. 

I grew up in an abortion less Ireland. It was a stain on the landscape of our psyche though I wasn’t fully aware of this until I left the country. I went traveling in Europe in the 90’s and met a Mexican grad student in Germany (as you do). When I told him where I was from, he said, ‘Ireland, ah yes, they don’t treat their women very well do they?’. That was the first time I’d heard it verbalized. I was probably offended, and likely defended Mother Éire, but nonetheless, bells of rude awakenings did ring in the back of my mind. Clearly I’d lived a sheltered existence in the motherland. So this play was personal.

L-R: Eva O'Connor and Ciaran O'Brien in Fishamble's Maz and Bricks by Eva O'Connor. Photo credit Lunaria
L-R: Eva O’Connor and Ciaran O’Brien in Fishamble’s Maz and Bricks by Eva O’Connor. Photo credit Lunaria

Written by and starring, Eva O’Connor, of Fishamble: The New Play Company, Maz and Bricks is a passionate and heartfelt piece with a wonderful interweaving of stories, and is sweet without being overly saccharine.

Maz meets Bricks (Ciaran O’Brien) on the Luas tram in Dublin. He’s on his way from Tallaght to pick up his 4-year old daughter for his weekend visit. Maz is heading for pro choice march in the City Center, having traveled from the bowels of the country earlier that morning. Though coming from very different worlds, (“an abortionist” as Bricks calls her) and a young urban father, the two strike up a life altering friendship. 

O’Connor is fierce both as a writer and an actor. To articulate Maz’ simmering anger, she injects copious fucks (all of which she does give) into her monologues, alongside a deep intelligence and old soul wisdom.

"It was a joy to hear the mixture of Hiberno-English, Dublin slang and cultural references bounced and spun playfully with dexterity and precision."

The script is broken into sets of monologues by the two main characters who act as narrators to introduce their respective backstories. These are interspersed with dialogues between Maz and Bricks. O’Connor uses  rhythm and rhyme in the monologues that veers toward spoken word poetry. It was a joy to hear the mixture of Hiberno-English, Dublin slang and cultural references bounced and spun playfully with dexterity and precision. In spite of the mishmash of dialects, my American friend could understand perfectly, but did have to be enlightened on ‘mot’, the Dublin word for girlfriend or girl/woman (which comes from the Irish word, ‘maith’, which means ‘good’.)!

Directed by Jim Culleton with Miriam Hyfler and Maree Kearns on stage and set, the play is staged in a minimalist way. Just a few cubes and a bench like piece provide the building blocks for the scenes. A few props appeared seemingly out of nowhere which was very impressive.

"... he goes on to advocate for using Club Orange instead of AA to give up alcohol, asserting that one taste of it, and people would be swift converts and never touch booze again."

Toward the end, there is one scene which began to feel a bit like a lecture where O’Connor lays out the long and sorry history of the road to the repeal of the 8th. Nonetheless, listing the now infamous names of some of the victims was powerful. Here they are again. Anne Lovett. Joanna Hayes. Savita Halappanvar. Eimear Colgan.

Humor is prolific in O’Connor’s writing and the delivery is fast paced and banter-y. They go for a drink and the recently tee-totalled Bricks orders an orange. Maz makes fun of him as she swills back her lager, calling the orange drink a Fanta instead of a Club Orange, much to Brick’s chagrin. His love of one over the other is tantamount to many football supporters affinity for, say, Arsenal versus Manchester United, and he goes on to advocate for using Club Orange instead of AA meetings to give up alcohol, asserting that one taste of it, and people would be swift converts and never touch booze again.

Go see this play! Be entertained. Have a laugh. Get woke-r!

It plays at 59E59 Theater until February 2nd. Ticket information for it and other 1st Irish offerings below.

https://www.origintheatre.org/events/maz-and-bricks/

https://www.origintheatre.org/about/whats-on/1st-irish-festival-2020/