The Meta-Theater of Wokeness: Why Ulster American Feels Like a Time Capsule
Theater has always been a mirror to society, but what happens when that mirror reflects a version of ourselves we’ve already outgrown? Ulster American, now playing at Dublin’s Abbey Theatre, is a prime example of this conundrum. Starring Matthew Broderick as a self-aware caricature of his own celebrity, the play dives into the murky waters of performative wokeness, cultural ignorance, and the theater world’s obsession with itself. But here’s the thing: it feels like a relic from a different era.
The Celebrity Paradox: Broderick as Broderick (Sort Of)
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Broderick plays Jay Conway, an Irish-American star who, like Broderick himself, is both celebrated and clueless about his heritage. Personally, I think this meta-casting is a stroke of genius—it blurs the line between actor and character, forcing us to question how much of Jay’s obnoxious vanity is a reflection of Broderick’s own persona. But here’s where it gets tricky: Jay’s ignorance about Ulster isn’t just a plot point; it’s a symbol of how Hollywood (and by extension, many of us) cherry-picks cultural narratives to suit its own agenda.
Performative Wokeness: The New Old Punchline
One thing that immediately stands out is the play’s critique of performative wokeness. Jay and the director, Lee Carver, trade platitudes about racism, homophobia, and misogyny, only to pivot to a cringe-worthy discussion about rape fantasies. In my opinion, this is where the play’s age shows. Back in 2018, when it first premiered, calling out virtue-signaling hypocrisy felt fresh. Now? It’s like watching a rerun of a canceled sitcom. What many people don’t realize is that the theater world has moved on—“Woke 1.0” is passé, and audiences are craving more nuanced takes on identity politics.
The Playwright’s Revenge: Ruth Davenport’s Complexity
A detail that I find especially interesting is the character of Ruth Davenport, the Belfast playwright whose script is an apologia for loyalism. Geraldine Hughes brings Ruth to life as a fully realized, contradictory figure—a Tory-voting Brexiteer who weaponizes cancel culture. This raises a deeper question: Can someone with regressive political views still create art that challenges the status quo? Ruth’s outrage at Jay’s tone-deaf portrayal of her culture feels authentic, but her own biases are never far from the surface. What this really suggests is that identity politics are never as simple as they seem, even in the most progressive circles.
The Knockabout Comedy That Doesn’t Quite Land
From my perspective, the play’s knockabout style works best in its absurd moments—like Jay’s disastrous attempt at an Ulster accent, which earns him the label of a “Belfast Dick Van Dyke.” But the humor often feels one-note, relying too heavily on Jay’s obnoxiousness and Lee’s cluelessness. If you take a step back and think about it, the play’s structural cohesion and comic energy can’t quite mask its shallow characterizations. Lee, in particular, comes off as a caricature of a liberal arts director, spouting contradictory political views that strain credulity.
The Lurid Finale: A Saving Grace?
The play’s finale is undeniably lurid and memorable, but it feels more like a shock tactic than a satisfying conclusion. Personally, I think it’s a missed opportunity to explore the deeper implications of cultural appropriation and the theater’s role in perpetuating stereotypes. Instead, we’re left with a spectacle that’s more entertaining than thought-provoking.
Why Ulster American Feels Dated—And What That Says About Us
Here’s the thing: Ulster American isn’t a bad play. It’s just a play of its time. In 2018, its critique of performative wokeness and celebrity culture felt cutting-edge. Now, it feels like a time capsule from a bygone era of theater. What this really suggests is that art, like society, evolves—and what was once provocative can quickly become passé.
Final Thoughts: A Mirror We No Longer Need?
As I sat in the Abbey Theatre, I couldn’t help but wonder: Is Ulster American still relevant? In my opinion, it’s a play that holds up a mirror to a version of ourselves we’ve largely moved past. Yes, Broderick’s timing is expert, and the dialogue is sharp, but the play’s insights feel like old news. If you take a step back and think about it, the theater world—and the world at large—has already moved on. Maybe it’s time for Ulster American to do the same.
