In Mark Rowe’s one-act comedy-drama Reunion – the critical darling of the Galway International Arts Festival, where it premiered in 2024 – those recognisable beats are all there. On a little island off the Irish coast, a family are getting together; to share a ‘traditional Irish meal’ (including or not including courgettes, depending who you ask) and raise a glass in honour of late patriarch Seán. Yet as old wounds are bared against a backdrop of whipping wind and choppy waters, it becomes clear that there’s a reason this family doesn’t come together all that much.
This genre calls for explosive arguments, lightning-fast banter, and shocking revelations. Under Rowe’s direction, Reunion is a more grounded affair. The dialogue, while pacy, doesn’t ricochet across the Scandi-inspired home at speed, and the emotional peaks are more shouts than guttural screams. Laughter is the priority here, making for an enjoyable drama – even if the emotional depths feel somewhat untapped.
Set to Aoife Kavanagh’s soundtrack of crashing waves and anxious drums, the family assemble, all stylishly clad in a muted palette of Cos catalogue neutrals. The trip has been organised by Elaine (Aislín McGuckin), Seán’s sweary widow, with her not-so-secret favourite child Maurice (Peter Corboy) joining alongside girlfriend Holly (Simone Collins). It is only when Elaine’s other two adult children, Marilyn (Kate Gilmore) and Janice (Venetia Bowe), rock up with their own respective partners, that the first cracks begin to show.
Elaine is desperate to bring her family together. Yet under Rowe’s direction, it is clear that these are individuals operating on their own tracks. Characters are constantly leaving and entering the room, contributing to a fidgety, restless energy. They’re linked by a shared sense of humour (and love of expletives), yet as soon as the seemingly playful jibes begin, out-and-out malice is never far behind. As warring sisters, Bowe and Gilmore spit venom to particularly delicious effect.
Yet Reunion’s most memorable performances don’t come from the family, but the outsiders who break this mould. On paper, Holly’s monosyllabic father Felix (Stephen Brennan) and Marilyn’s poetry-writing ex Aonghus (Ian-Lloyd Anderson) couldn’t be further apart. The latter bursts into the room as a ball of nervous energy, while the former lurks at the back. Yet they both captivate both their fellow characters and the audience. Brennan and Anderson get the biggest laughs by far, making their moments of pathos feel all the more heartbreaking.
Elsewhere, this attempted emotional heft has less impact. Meaty topics like abortion, suicide and domestic abuse are raised for effect both comic and dark, but knowing little about these characters beyond their propensity for arguing, their reactions rarely felt earned. ‘All I wanted was for us all to have a nice time together for Seán,’ Elaine cries. ‘We never even reminisced about him!’ Ostensibly, this is a family coming together to pay tribute to their late father, yet there is surprisingly little grief in Reunion. Were that the underpinning tying the show together, perhaps the other splintering sadnesses would feel more earned. Without, it is an entertaining evening of theatre, but one that fails to reach its true tragic potential.
