By Nelson Pressley
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, March 5, 2008

"The Hostage" is a rowdy piece of theater, full of boozy ballads and woozy Irish patriotism. Its shaggy subversiveness calls for a beer or three, which the large Keegan Theatre cast encourages the audience to enjoy as the show amiably sprawls along.

Brendan Behan originally wrote this mid-1950s play in Gaelic, but "The Hostage" took on more music-hall flair when redone in England in 1958. That's the version on display here, with David Jourdan as the ringleading Pat, a limping veteran of the Irish campaigns who proudly bellows anti-Brit ballads. (He drinks a bit, too.)

Jourdan's Pat, loosely presiding over a run-down Dublin brothel/alehouse, gets pugnacious only when the guitar goes out of tune or the subject of early Irish nationalist battles comes up. Aye, then the working gals and guys and general misfits stand straight and sing loud, like a punch-drunk version of the French loyalists delivering "La Marseillaise" in "Casablanca."

But Behan, who did a bit of time in prison himself for political activities, isn't so sure these IRA sympathizers are still fighting the good fight; the whorehouse milieu naturally casts all the fine sentiments into a shadow of disrepute. It's all blarney until a genuine English hostage gets hustled into the place in what's hoped will be a swap for an Irish prisoner about to be hanged by the Brits.

Sounds tense, but it isn't -- and for the most part that doesn't matter. Behan comes around to his plot slowly, and then slackens the reins again as he considers his rogues' gallery a bit longer. Noisy trysts, religious debates, knockabout trips to the loo -- any little incident might end up in a song strummed lustily by Jourdan's Pat, or plinked on an upright piano by Susan Marie Rhea as Kate (one of several scantily clad good-time girls).

George Lucas's dilapidated two-level set fits naturally amid the bare brick walls of the Church Street Theater, where the cast captures the after-hours flavor of fightin', fergivin' and hoistin' a glass. Director Mark A. Rhea, more or less reviving his own 2003 Keegan production at the Clark Street Playhouse, organizes the flow admirably, although the ad-lib chatter he encourages occasionally turns the overlapping dialogue to mush.

That begins to rankle a little as the party rambles toward the 2 1/2 -hour mark. Part of the genius of "The Hostage," oddly, is its dearth of plot: Nothing much happens, though the hardy souls in this place keep themselves steeped in war fever out of habit. So the fine points matter, the subtle blindnesses and comic hypocrisies, but the emphasis and timing here are off.

What works, though, is the cast of 18, lounging, bickering and singing with defiance that moves from devil-may-care toward a glimpse of hell. The show roughly divides between the tunnel-visioned -- say, Kevin Adams as the kilt-wearing old warrior Monsewer, or Jane Petkofsky as the religiously inflamed Miss Gilchrist -- and the more louche and broad-minded denizens of the brothel.

Michael Innocenti's semi-drag turn as Rio Rita makes a particularly droll impression even before his entrance in a coconut-shell brassiere. The whole cast, including lovebirds Carolyn Agan and Joe Baker (the sweet-faced hostage), orbits dizzily around Jourdan's beaming Pat.

Jourdan's most crucial role, though, is as music director and adapter. The well-judged songs drive the high spirits, the flamboyant melancholy, and the cold slap when, at last, it's time to sober up.

The Hostage, by Brendan Behan. Directed by Mark A. Rhea. Choreography, Melissa-Leigh Douglass; lighting design, Dan Martin; costumes, Shadia Hafiz; sound design, Tony Angelini. With Sheri S. Herren, Timothy Hayes Lynch, Colin Smith, Sally Cusenza, Shadia Hafiz, Jim Howard, Mike Kozemchak, Rich Montgomery, Roger Payano, Jenn Richter and Daniel Steinberg. About 2 1/2 hours. Through March 29 at the Church Street Theater, 1742 Church St. NW. Call 703-892-0202 or visit http://www.keegantheatre.com.