The Brightening Air at the Old Vic
Taking its title from WB Yeats’s The Song of Wandering Aengus, The Brightening Air is the latest work by award-winning Irish playwright Conor McPherson. Checkovian in its structure and family entanglements, the play promises much: loud laughter mixed with tears, laced with magic. This element is established early on, taking the form of water – a well, to be precise – fabled to make whoever drinks from it fall in love with the first person they see. The surprise, perhaps, is the role that magic then assumes in The Brightening Air; it is not merely thrown in to shock or confuse. This “love water” becomes something the characters need to believe in; for solace, hope, or even to explain what they’re feeling. It also serves to justify their actions and choices, which is a deeply human and relatable impulse.
West Ireland, 1980s, siblings Stephen (Brian Gleeson) and Billie (Rosie Sheehy) are the last members of their family still living in the farmhouse where they were raised. The audience sees only what they need to: a wooden table with chairs, a piano, and a strategically positioned window. The light filtering through it, bathing the room, signals the passage of time and guides the audience through night and day. It creates a warm, almost ethereal, suspended-in-time atmosphere for the action to unfold, like stepping into an old, familiar, and much-cherished house, where dust might be expected to glisten in the sun; an enchantment of sorts. The space feels lived in and loved. Fussing around the table is where the story begins and where it ends: the piece of furniture is moved frequently, but it remains ever-present, weathered by the family bonds that are deepened or severed around it.
The house seems to have been a safe haven for Billie and Stephen. It’s outside where trouble finds them. And soon, the outside begins to seep in. The arrival of a colourful set of relatives sets events in motion: their ex-clergyman uncle (Seán McGinley), sister-in-law Lydia (Hannah Morrish) and Dermot, their older brother and Lydia’s unfaithful husband (Chris O’Dowd). Morrish and O’Dowd are brilliant together, with Lydia’s desperate love standing in stark contrast to Dermot’s selfish, devilishly funny persona. Morrish shines through the subtleties of her performance; eyes are drawn to her facial expressions and mannerisms, even when she’s standing in the corner while others command the stage. This, perhaps, is the real magic of the play: the humanity conveyed through every small action and gesture, like Morrish’s potent but quiet yearning for a touch, and a sign that she might reclaim her true love.
The two siblings are equally compelling. Gleeson brings a quiet rage to Stephen, leaving the audience wondering when he might reach boiling point, while trailing unresolved emotions that never fully surface and remain a bit underexplored. Sheehy is phenomenal as Billie, a complex young woman whom Dermot, at one point, refers to as “not normal”. But Billie is many things: brilliant, funny and disarmingly honest, a kind of honesty that leads her to expose her most vulnerable self. Sheehy delivers biting one-liners, followed by moments of sincere, heartfelt depth.
By the end, one might wish the enchantment would never lift, remaining immersed in the lives of these intricate characters. McPherson’s richly layered writing never becomes self-indulgent; it simply tells a story, from beginning to end, with a brilliant cast breathing life into every line, each adding their own unique touch.
Benedetta Mancusi
Photos: Manual Harlan
The Brightening Air is at the Old Vic from 10th April until 14th June 2025. For further information or to book, visit the theatre’s website here.
Watch the trailer for The Brightening Air at the Old Vic here:
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