Bernard Field, the celebrated playwright, has never shied away from challenging the unpalatable. Indeed, he wrote, directed and starred in works that pushed boundaries and provoked thought. His new work Dead Dog, which will have its world premiere at the Town Hall Studio and run March 18 to 22, is in the same vein.
Dead Dog, a play follows in the footsteps of his superb and challenging earlier works such as The Early Hours and Shroud. Born in Dublin, Field began his career as an actor in the 1980s before spending time in London. In 2007, he moved to Galway, where he founded the renowned Haw Theatre. His latest play, Dead Dog delves into a deeply personal and historically relevant subject of corporal punishment, which was outlawed in the early 80s but which shaped many a generation.
Dead Dog is being produced by the Kildare-based Tavistock Arts and directed by Jim Ivers. Featuring the talented actors Martin Brennan and Finbarr Delaney, the play is set to challenge audiences with its intense and thought-provoking narrative.
When asked what audiences can expect, Field explained that they can expect the unexpected.
“The story unfolds as Robert Sheridan returns to Ireland after many years in America to confront his old teacher, Harry Flynn. Those who lived through the old corporal punishment regime in Ireland’s schools may have from time to time fantasised about hunting down an abusive teacher from their youth and confronting them as fully grown adults, not children and adolescents.
“Dead Dog flows out of this kind of fantasising, which is rooted in reality, and tries to follow threads of pain as they unravel and weave something creative that makes some sort of sense of what happened back then.”
Field does not shy away from asking difficult questions. He explores how the systemic culture of corporal punishment in Irish schools affected both the victims and the perpetrators.
“What did this corporal punishment regime ultimately do to those who executed it, who were all grown men at the time? How did it shape them? Corrupt them? Destroy them? Inspire them? Convert them? What did it do over time ultimately to those on the receiving end of it, who were all children at the time? How did it shape them? Destroy them? Empower them? Punish them? Inculcate fear of life into them?”
A deeply personal story
For Field, Dead Dog is not just a work of fiction; it is a story shaped by his own experiences. Reflecting on his past, he recounted his childhood.
“I went to a Christian Brothers School in Dublin in the late 60s to mid-70s. Corporal punishment was just a given of everyday school life. If you escaped the day with no more than six of the best, it was quite a good day. The pervasive background to school life was an atmosphere of fear.”
He recalls the dichotomy of the educators he encountered—some kind-hearted and opposed to corporal punishment, others cruel and abusive.
“There were too many who by today’s standards would be viewed as profane sexual deviants and sadists. In a way, Dead Dog comes out of a rage that myself and my friends as children could have been entrusted by the state to the care of men who vented their inner demons on mere children.”
Field believes that while religious orders in Ireland have faced much-needed scrutiny, lay teachers who participated in the culture of abuse have largely escaped accountability.
“In all this ‘outing’ of the Church, I’ve felt that the lay teachers who were part of the school system and who worked alongside the Christian Brothers have not been properly called to account.”
The challenges of writing Dead Dog
Field wrote Dead Dog during the Covid lockdown, a time that allowed deep introspection but also came with emotional and creative challenges.
“Writing does take a lot out of you, but I’ve only noticed this in recent years as I’ve gotten older. On the face of it, it hardly looks like ‘hard work’ but mentally it can be taxing and can affect your mood. But what it takes away with one hand, it gives back with the other. Those moments when you find it all flowing are priceless.”
He describes his writing process as one of organic development:
“To me, it feels like a game of doodling that becomes more and more precise as the material and ideas grow.”
Field notes that corporal punishment in Irish schools was abruptly stopped in the 1980s, though its effects linger.
“I don’t think this generation is very aware of it, and in some ways, thank God for that. I know my own daughter was flabbergasted when she watched a recent RTE documentary about the subject. But while it’s perhaps not necessary for the younger generation to know about the past in forensic detail, it might be valuable for them to at least be aware of some very warped aspects of the past.”
He sees value in understanding history as a means to appreciate progress and recognize the struggles of older generations.
“It can give insights into the older generations they see around them and live with and maybe increase their appreciation of where we’re all at now in the light of where we’ve come from.”
When asked about contemporary issues facing today’s youth, Field sees a parallel between past and present struggles.
“Definitely, how to navigate the internet for the young seems to me the biggest challenge these days. Parents grappling with this issue have all my sympathy. Of course, the internet affords wonderful new opportunities in the field of education and many other domains, but the dark side of it is an unprecedented challenge.”
He highlights the rapid changes brought about by technology and the addictive nature of the digital world:
“We’re scarcely even beginning to understand how it’s changing and reshaping our very brains and moulding us in all directions. Even for older people who were formed and lived most of their lives in the pre-internet ‘old world,’ it is a difficult challenge. The speed with which a smartphone can engender new addictions is frightening.”
While Field teaches acting rather than playwriting, he observes a remarkable awareness in new writers.
“I’m not convinced playwriting can be taught, as the more we analyze creative processes, the more we hobble our ability to actually do them spontaneously. In my experience, the way to learn to be a playwright is to read great playwrights and learn just by exposure.”
He admires how new writers are deeply attuned to cultural shifts:
“Things are changing extremely quickly in politics, demographics, culture, and how we see ourselves as human beings. The variety of ways one can ‘be’ these days seems to be expanding all the time. People have learned they can invent and reinvent themselves and do not have to go through life with one fixed identity given by others and the society they grew up in.”
With Dead Dog, Bernard Field continues his tradition of tackling challenging subjects with unflinching honesty. Through his personal experiences and a keen awareness of societal change, he crafts stories that not only resonate with audiences but force them to confront uncomfortable truths.
As Dead Dog takes to the stage, it promises to be a production that will stir emotions, provoke thought, and, perhaps, open long-closed conversations about Ireland’s past and its impact on the present.
Dead Dog opens in the Town Hall Studio on March 18 and runs until March 22. https://tht.ie/4426/dead-dog
