To be completely immersed in a narrative–not just moved by, but so completely immersed in a story that you feel as if you’ve been sucked out of your own reality and deposited into another–is a rare, magical thing. “The Ferryman” at Ensemble Theatre is performing such magic.
The story takes place in rural County Armagh, Northern Ireland in 1981 during The Troubles, a three-decade-long period of violent conflict. While Quinn Carney volunteered in the Derry Irish Republican Army (IRA) during his youth, he has long ago traded a life of violence and nationalist fighting for a large family and a quiet life in the country. However, when the body of Quinn’s brother, Seamus, who “disappeared” in 1971, is recovered in a bog with a bullet in his head, Quinn’s IRA past comes knocking.
Written by acclaimed playwright Jez Butterworth, “The Ferryman” premiered on the West End in 2017 before transferring to Broadway in late 2018. It picked up a slew of awards along the way, including the Laurence Olivier Award for Best Play, the Tony Award for Best Play, the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award for Best Play and the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Play. All are deserved.
The show is epic in proportions, spanning three hours and fifteen minutes with two short breaks between acts. The cast is made up of nearly two dozen players, a decent number of whom are children. There’s live kitchen prep, live cooking, a live rabbit and goose, as well as an actual baby. It is a demanding, laborious show for theater companies, and it’s a real time investment for audience members–but damn, is it worthwhile.
Set and lighting designer Ian Hinz sits us on three sides of a long dining room table (I recommend the seats on the sides), with the back of the stage hosting a kitchen and stairway that leads to the house’s upper floor. It becomes immediately apparent that this is no show home–it is lived in; children’s drawings are tacked on the wall, a paper chain snakes up the banister, a radio croons out music, the sink runs water and the hot plate stove steams. Curtains are used as substitutes for doors, and the arrangement of appliances isn’t always logical, but those less realistic details fade into the background in the face of the family that brings the space truly to life.
Co-directors Ian Wolfgang Hinz and Rebecca Moseley have brought together a cast that truly behaves like a family. In “The Ferryman,” a blended family prepares for a day spent in the field followed by a feast celebrating the harvest. Apples are being peeled, sleepy children are being roused, elders are reminiscing, fattened geese are chased, toasts are made, outbursts are had, jigs are danced–it’s a tornado of activity that unfurls before you with organic authenticity.
“The Ferryman” invites you to take a seat at the Carney’s table, and after the first act, you feel as if you have a good sense of what makes these people tick. There’s Aunt Maggie Faraway (a dreamy Molly McFadden) who suffers from a form of dementia that is interrupted by brief bouts of clarity and foresight. Uncle Pat (an endearing Bo Smith) is quick to recount stories oft told, much to the chagrin of Aunt Pat (a fierce Nanna Ingvarsson), a steadfast supporter of a united Ireland. The mother of the home’s seven children, Mary (a reserved Rebecca Moseley), is largely absent due to a mysterious illness.
Seven Carney children, JJ (a responsible Nick Hassan), Shena (a reliable Lucy Dolzine), Michael (a mischievous Jacob Matthew Shean), Nunu (a helpful Claire Zalevsky), Mercy (a confident Margot L. Payne), Honor (an adorable Isabella Disantis) and Bobby (an exceptionally well-behaved baby), breathe life into the home. The young girls especially will tug at your heartstrings.
A gaggle of cousins also traipse about the home as they help the Carneys with their harvest. Cousins Shane (a disruptive Samuel Roter), Declan (a boyish Theodore Sluzewski) and Diarmaid (a mediating Nathan Miller) share harrowing stories of their interactions with the IRA back in the city, while Oisien (a frustrated Declan Robertson, understudy) struggles with grief and teenage angst. Farmhand and Englishman Tom Kettle (a soft and sympathetic Aaron Elersich) also lends a helping hand.
Romantic tension is thick between the two heads of the household, Quinn (Dan Zalevsky), and his brother’s widow, Caitlin (a maternal, entirely likable Laura Rauh). Dan Zalevsky deserves extra praise for his performance: his fatherly moments are touching, his frustrated moments are broiling with untapped heat and his emotional moments are tearful and raw.
Hovering over the family’s interactions like a foreboding mist are the tensions of The Troubles. Protestors are dying from hunger strikes, Margaret Thatcher is seemingly uncaring of their plight and the IRA are in a particularly precarious political position. So when Father Horrigan (a downtrodden David Bugher) arrives with news of the discovery of Seamus’s body, tensions reach a new high. These are ratcheted even higher when IRA bigwig Muldoon (an imposing Joseph Milan) and his two cronies (Chris Bizub and Miron Gusso) come calling with a request made of Quinn and Caitlin.
“The Ferryman” is masterfully penned. The dialogue and everyday unfurling of the Carney’s day in Act I allows us a chance to become embroiled in their imperfect but beautiful family. So when peace is threatened and suspense thickens, we are entirely invested in the wellbeing of this little world brought to life mere inches away from our seats. The denouement is an explosive finale that will burrow its way into a corner of your mind to be replayed again and again.
The show does have its faults. The Irish accents can become a bit slippery for some of the younger players, which is forgivable. The source material has been criticized for leaning too heavily into swearing, drinking and mystical stereotypes. Some more familiar with The Troubles in Northern Ireland have also claimed that the show does not accurately reflect the tensions and conflicts of the time and place; so consume it with a grain of salt.
Attention, time and money are in short supply these days, but pulling up a chair at the Carney’s kitchen table is, undoubtedly, a worthwhile investment in beautifully penned and enthusiastically performed theater.
“The Ferryman” runs through Oct. 18, 2026, at Ensemble Theatre in Marinello Little Theater, 1 John Carroll Blvd., University Hts. 44118. Tickets can be purchased by calling (216) 321-2930 or by visiting ensembletheatrecle.org, $10-50.
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