In the program notes, playwright Murphy indicates that his male characters have no experience with the vocabulary of emotion as they struggle with the downward turns in their lives. Fair enough. But he also states that he was “hoping” to provide a “little thought or debate and also to amuse, as ... there is so much about their situation that is (painfully) funny." This reviewer would suggest otherwise. With so much despair, the "funny" was lost. Take Me Away premiered in Dublin in 2004 and then played the Edinburgh Fringe Festival where it won the Scotsman Fringe First Award. Certainly some of the flaws of the characters might have seemed funny with a pint a Guinness in one’s hand. But Director Murray, a stalwart of Sola Nua with directing credits for such works as Disco Pigs and Trad, could not save this script. Her touch is a light one but there is so little for her to bring such lovely touches too. She has her cast move about physically and and she has them do something she often does as an actor: be still and say so much in stillness. And then she adds to stillness a chewing of fingernails or a facial grimace that speaks loudly since the audience is almost on top of the set.

The work of the ensemble is robust for the most part. Emoting family secrets, though, leads to the inability of others to reach out and help. The many times a “please help me” is spoken, the words are met only with silence or inaction. The actors play their roles in a muscular way. Joe Cronin, the father, builds himself into frenzy over the course of the play. He first comes to the audience’s attention in a suit, tie and white shirt, but slowly comes undone in body language, costume and line delivery as his sons will neither respect him nor come to his aid. His face falls apart and his initial internal paternal strength turns into hand-wringing as he tells of his wife leaving him alone in his home, possibly for a woman. Cronin pulls it off. Jared Hill Mercier as the oldest son is first seen in a darkened room with only a computer monitor lighting the scene and his face … he holds toilet paper with him as if he will need to if for what he might be doing. He is the most successful son, with a job and a small home where all others impose themselves. He is a bundle of tied-up energy, constantly biting his nails as he delivers his lines with slow motion authority. It is rare when the others do what he wants at the time he wants it done. He moves about the stage as if life has left him with no contentment and no wife, only a job. Kevin O’Reilly is the youngest son who passively takes things in and sits on the couch, immobile. That is until he tells his story of a girl who has used him, leaving him in ruins; just a puppy wanting to come home. Alex Vernon is the shark-like middle son. He never stops moving his body or his mouth … and when finally he feels his life slipping away as he tells of his wife leaving him and taking the son he loves, he bangs his head against the wall to deaden himself and not feel the real pain of his miserable life. As his brothers and father finally leave his home, Mercier is once again at his computer, in a robe, tissues at the ready for what may take place after the audience leaves.

The small black box space at Flashpoint is made into a cramped living room with a non-descript yellowish-beige couch at the center. Surrounding the couch are several table lamps and a hanging ceiling lamp, along with a table upon which sits a computer that under multiple Helen Hayes nominee Marianne Meadows nicely done work, lights the set at opening and closing scenes. But, this is a room without life. There is not even a painting or poster on a wall and no one is allowed to open the one window to allow fresh air in the room; and so the warm stale air begins to stifle.