Crucible, Sheffield
Not much was revealed about the domestic life of Mrs Doyle, the garrulously insistent housekeeper from the comedy series Father Ted. It was rumoured she might have had a sister; and now finally she has been found: buried up to her waist in a baking desert. For Pauline McLynn, the unavoidable outcome of appearing in Father Ted is that she will forever be associated with an annoying catchphrase ("Ah, go on, go on, go on ...") Yet she proves perfect casting for Samuel Beckett's part-submerged bag lady: Winnie and Mrs Doyle are kindred spirits, obsessed by the execution of mundane tasks accompanied by a trivial, yet revealing, stream of prattle.
The comparison is a comment on the quality of the writing of Father Ted, whose creators, Graham Linehan and Arthur Mathews, drew upon Beckett's verbal surrealism just as Beckett himself tapped into a popular form of patter with its roots in vaudeville. The relationship between Winnie and her near-silent husband, Willie, comes straight from music hall, a reference Jonathan Humphreys's production acknowledges with the use of a hand-cranked, red plush curtain.
There is a hint of a saucy seaside postcard to Lizzie Clachan's design, perhaps influenced by the bizarre fact that Beckett worked on the play while staying in Folkestone. Yet the arid panorama of mountains suggests somewhere more inhospitable, as if Winnie and her husband are paying an exacting price for having booked a cheap package holiday to Afghanistan.
McLynn gives a performance of surprising delicacy and physical grace. Though you cannot see her feet, of course, you get the sense that she is performing the whole thing en pointe. And she is brilliantly responsive to the mellifluous cadences of Beckett's verbal music. The first act is practically a linguistic demonstration of sonata form – theme, development and recapitulation – glued together by the recurring motif that it will be "a happy day".
Peter Gowen's Willie is more than a mere silent partner. You cannot tell whether his final, desperate ascent of Winnie's mound is motivated by a desire to dig his wife out with his bare hands, or put in place the last few stones that will complete her entombment. Either way, you marvel at McLynn's inexhaustible ability to go on, go on, go on.