‘A Man of No Importance’ Review: Putting the Community in Community Theater

Theater about theater — a bit indulgent, no? Espousing the life-changing magic of the stage from the stage can easily feel distancing and self-aggrandizing. Yet Speakeasy Stage’s “A Man of No Importance” bears no such pretension. Rather, this sendoff production for Artistic Director Paul Daigneault brims with such love for theater — not in its idealized form, but rather in its messy, embarrassing, and unabashed eagerness — that one cannot help but agree.

This titular “Man of No Importance” is Alfie Byrne (Eddie Shields), a bus conductor in Dublin moonlighting as director of the amateur theater troupe St. Imelda’s Players. Chipper and witty, Alfie spends his days leading rehearsals and preaching the word of his favorite playwright, Oscar Wilde — but when he tries to put on the controversial “Salome,” both public censorship and his internal shame threaten to stamp out both him and his art. Based on the 1994 film of the same name, this production borrows from the 2022 Off-Broadway revival and uses onstage musicians with some performers doubling as pit and cast members.

The production’s finest achievement is the heartwarming feeling of community created by both Daigneault’s directing and the incredible cast. While the program lists a mere 15 performers, this company appears more like 20 or 30. Besides stepping in and out of various individual roles with ease, they radiate a specificity and warmth in their group interactions that delights to no end. Daigneault has cast members hurriedly traverse the relatively bare thrust stage — zigzagging around each other, intersecting each other’s paths — in a flurry of movement to create the feeling of a bustling city.

This fluidity extends to the seamless transitions between pit and cast. A casual turn to admire the pit often reveals several cast members who have slipped onto the platform and taken up violins, flutes, and guitars. This subtle integration of instrumentalist and actor furthers the thematic importance of community and public performance while also working as a charming gimmick.

Unfortunately, even good execution on the part of the instrumentalists and singers only temporarily distracts from most songs’ lack of memorability. Many are enjoyable in the moment, but still fail to leave much of an aftertaste. One can only imagine what a cast and pit of this caliber could do with stronger musical material, although they still carry these numbers with enthusiasm.

All that being said, several songs still make a mark. “Princess” is a particularly pretty tune, gorgeously sung by Rebekah Rae Robles’ Adele, a young girl from the country. “Going Up,” a comedic number, sees Dublin’s amateur thespians rejoice at St. Imelda’s imminent production. Led by Carney (Sam Simahk), the town butcher and resident ego, this number is well sung and hilarious, with choreography by Ilyse Robbins that borrows the jazz-hands of a traditional “razzle-dazzle” Broadway number.

The most moving number in the entire show might be its simplest. While visiting his parents’ grave, Alfie chats with Baldy (Bill Meleady), the ever-cheerful stage manager for St. Imelda’s productions, as the latter pays respect to his dead wife. Meleady’s delivery of “The Cuddles that Mary Gave” is so tender that it makes this quiet number splendid. To give Ahrens and Flaherty credit, turning what could have been a dirge into a surprisingly funny and cheerful song about a widower remembering his wife’s love, however smothering, is a wonderful choice and Meleady’s sly looks and delicate voice do the song great justice.

Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens’ score may not be worth writing home about, but Terrence McNally’s book certainly makes up for any musical deficiencies — something Daigneault clearly understands. The best moments in the show come from letting McNally’s book shine. This applies not only to the simpler direction but also to the technical elements. Karen Perlow’s lighting design, primarily naturalistic with some exciting bursts of style during numbers like “Our Father,” as well as the relatively simple scenic design by Jenna McFarland Lord, consisting of a large arched bookcase bearing tomes, trinkets, and stained glass, sets the mood well without drawing too much attention to themselves.

Rather, the centerpiece of the entire show is Alfie — a role that would dually satisfies and terrifies him. Shields’ performance as Alfie Byrne is an absolute delight. A knot of enthusiasm and insecurity, Shields’ animated physicality conveys both this theatricality and anxiousness. He twiddles, gesticulates, and fidgets. Most importantly, Shields has an undeniable lovable quality. When he finally dares to express himself, donning the flamboyant outfit of his favorite poet, one can’t help but grin — and when a bigoted society retaliates for this show of authenticity, Shields’ silent look of utter humiliation is more devastating than any words could muster.

Even without giving the ending away, those familiar with the film “It’s a Wonderful Life” can guess what happens at the end of “A Man of No Importance” — stories of men learning their true value to a community don’t necessarily break new ground. Yet, when the ending arrives, the source material does not give in all the way to sentimentality. The show still does not give in to some idealized gesture towards the power of theater to change hearts and biases. Rather, the show points towards a simpler message: that theater can bring people to put their biases aside, at least temporarily. There is still work to be done.

“A Man of No Importance” is not just a testament to theater, but the power of community. As Alfie comes to realize, the product is not the best part of the play — the people are. Daigneault has brought that humor, liveliness, and feeling of togetherness from the cast’s side to the finished product. Any director would be so lucky to have this production as their sendoff.

“A Man of No Importance” runs at the Roberts Studio Theatre until March 22.

—Staff writer Ria S. Cuéllar-Koh can be reached at ria.cuellarkoh@thecrimson.com. Follow her on X @riacuellarkoh.