Sugar And Spice In Michael Patric’s New Work

“You must have the craic. I don’t trust any fella who can’t have d’aul craic.”

Michael Patric talks about Sugar, his recent project that follows Danyl Sweetnam as he recalls his last days as an Irish Sugar employee.

I did an apprenticeship in the sugar factory in Mallow many years ago and, y’know, it was a dull, drab, dangerous, dirty, smelly place to work. But it was still an extremely enjoyable place to work because of the characters in there. They knew that their own humour and their own outlook and positivity would make it a pleasant place to work and it worked for them. Y’know, if you’re in the same place for 40 years that has to happen, I don’t think they could have survived it otherwise. And they took that attitude out then into their own personal lives as well, where there was an ethos of kinda making every effort to see the funny side in even tragedy.

Danyl’s inspired by all of them and none of them at the same time, he’s kind of a representation of a certain part of how I see rural Ireland. There are people who are coming to terms with change in the world and don’t quite understand it, and are maybe reluctant to try to understand it, but at the same time, he’s a very good person. He’s just struggling to move with the change that’s happening too rapidly for him. He’s trying to hang onto the happiness and the happy-go-lucky days of his past as he sees it. He’s inspired by people as opposed to any one individual.

I always have a soft spot for those lads that I worked with there, and when I see them and when I meet them, I always enjoy the storytelling and recalling funny things that happened. There are some amazing stories; and some of them are not fit for public consumption and some of them are, just about. I think I’m just on the right side of the safety line there. Some people might think I’ve gone over that line a small bit.

There was a woman down in county Waterford, and I’m guessing she was in her 80’s and she said “I loved 90% of it, and you can guess the 10% I’m talking about” and I know what she’s talking about. There’s some language that’s “industrial”, we’ll put it that way.

And there’s some sexual content in there as well – not a lot – but not everybody’s cup of tea. But then, you’ll get 50 people and that’ll be their favourite part of it.

Funny enough, none of the views of the character are my views; they’re my observations of the views of other people; the kind of people who are being pushed aside in that, just because they were happy with the status quo and the way things were doesn’t make them bad people. And he certainly falls into that bracket; he thinks he’s a man of the world but he’s kind of contradicts himself a little bit. He might be a little bit critical of other people for not having a sense of humour or not being able to have an open mind, but he is a bit guilty of that himself as well.

As opposed to the Sean Moylan one, which I did last year, which was very intense and emotive for an audience but extremely intense for me as a performer as well, and I found that the writing was a similar thing. That was a more strenuous process and a longer process and this was - not more enjoyable because that was enjoyable as well - but more fun. I was talking to Dermot “Darby” Sheahan helped me with it, and talking to him brought back memories. And that stuff is all fun, and then I’m trying to tell the story and be true to the characters that actually lived the reality of it, but at the same time, fit as much craic as I can into an hour.

Here in Newmarket is where I come from and that’s where the character is from because so many people in this neck of the woods worked in that factory. Always when you are telling a story from a certain area, and, you don’t know how it’s going to travel out to the country or the world outside of this neck of the woods and how people are going to understand it or comprehend it or how they’re actually going to respond to it. But I’ve been to county Waterford, I’ve spend a week at the Cork film festival and it was up in Birr county Offaly and it seems like it doesn’t matter where it’s set; it’s universal. There are guys up in Birr who worked for Bord na Móna and they said it’s exactly the same thing Anybody who knows anybody or who worked in an environment which is industrial or has unions involved will really appreciate it, and that’s a large section of the population.

There are universal themes in there, and, as daft as it is, they’re responding well and they are laughing in places I would like them to laugh. There is some serious message in there too. I did it not knowing whether or not it would go any further than three nights at the Culturlann in Newmarket, and I was hoping that a lot of the old sugar factory workers would turn up. They did and they seemed to love it. We’re doing Smock Alley in Dublin for a week at the end of September and then all around the country after that. It’s great, it’s unusual as well; the character is laughing with the audience as he’s recalling the stories and at other points, he’s reaching a state of exasperations and that frustration is funny to the audience as well, and for the most part, he’s laughing with them. I’ve never played a character like that, that had that interaction with an audience, so it’s great craic for me as well as the audience. I enjoyed the Moylan one in a different way, there was a lot of satisfaction and kind of a spiritual enjoyment in that, but this was pure craic.