Imagine Romeo and Juliet transplanted several thousand miles from home, with the Capulets and Montagues still going at each other hammer and tongs. That, broadly, is the scenario of Nicola McCartney’s neglected 1998 drama in which the schisms of Northern Ireland’s religious divide are played out among the early 20th-century settlers of Saskatchewan. It’s no place for romance.
As the playwright sees it, the absurdity of sectarianism becomes even starker when placed in a different context. Over the course of the play, relations between two neighbouring expat families go from frosty to outrightly hostile, purely because of their split affiliations to King Billy and the Pope. This despite the younger members never having set foot in Northern Ireland.
Absurd the arguments may be, but Heritage shows the powerful pull of cultural identity. Here in the middle of Canada, the Protestant family pack their son off to join the war in Europe because of loyalty to the British empire, while their Catholic neighbours resolutely proclaim independence. They find comfort and solidarity in their traditions, language, dances and parades. The possibility of a union between David Rankine’s Catholic Michael and Fiona Wood’s Protestant Sarah threatens not just their self-definition but their survival as a group.
Staged on Ken Harrison’s imposing set of wooden beams, dynamically lit by Wayne Dowdeswell, Richard Baron’s assured production is at its best when most keenly focused on the central romance – and is elevated by Wood’s radiant performance as a teenager falling for a boy from the wrong side of the tracks.
