Phoebe Bakker
The Chalice weaves together questions of historical ownership and personal identity with a backdrop of just a little bit of the supernatural, to release a punchy play that pushes humour to the forefront, slowly digging up its heart throughout.
We see a desperate Ben stuck on his family’s farm, yearning to follow his brother to Australia to escape. He is joined by his long lost American-Irish cousin Nancy, who has come to visit with an agenda of her own. Her leg damaged, it is clear that she too is in a desperate position, as a victim of the US healthcare system and in debt. What might be her saving grace would be the artefact that sits on the table. The eponymous chalice. In a letter written by Nancy’s great grandfather she believes that as a descendant of this family, she is owed this chalice, that her great grandfather would want her to have it. Except the letter is very clearly missing who it was addressed to causing a riff between the two relatives. They then have another issue to contend with. Grace, who has ties to Ben’s family and Filipino parents, is a worker for the OPW (Office of Public Works) and has heard rumours that they have found something in the ground, which in Ireland is illegal, as everything found belongs to the country of Ireland. The arguments swing back and forth about who gets to keep it. Placing identity over homeland, homeland over self and many digs about why Grace has an invested interest as she herself ‘doesn’t belong’ to this homeland.
Leahy’s writing is exceptional and challenging. The humour is whip smart, gliding effortlessly throughout. Despite hard hitting themes, the comedy never misses a beat. Each actor gets to flex their skills and it really feels like an ensemble piece where everyone is intrinsically connected. A testament to both the performers and the direction. They know when to uplift and when to step back to let the others shine. Grace adds the necessary conflict and grounds us when we get too complacent in this delightful comedy, allowing each individual actor to shine. Her background as a child from immigrants to the country of Ireland spike the tense conversations about who rightfully the chalice belongs to. The script dances with humour and pathos and through its intelligence, making it seem deceptively easy to perform, and the cast do make it look effortless.
Where it drops slightly is that it gets overwhelmed. It packs tightly its core values and humour so well, that moments where revelations are dropped, we move on far too quickly for it to land. The show could either use a couple of extra minutes to explore these changes more effectively, but at a 75 minute run time that is a bit of a push, or scenes need to go through a cut to give the serious topics space and the respect it deserves. This is most notable in Ben and Grace’s arcs. His realisation and his desire to avoid being a coward ultimately end up making him one, but the leap from A-to-B happens very quickly, and I wanted to see perhaps some hope of redemption before it is dashed in front of us. Grace never gets her moment to process everything in relation to that, nor does it ever feel like the full extent of this character is on display. Equally, Nancy gets her own small moment of redemption towards the end, which passes extraordinarily quickly.
Where the weight does land, however, is with Grace’s final monologue. Her final impassioned speech, paralleling her own history with the chalice, reflecting on how history changes and why we should embrace that change, ties everything back to the land of Ireland with a relevance that feels more urgent than ever.
The Chalice gives us plenty to hold on to, at times arguably too much. There are rich ideas, but some leave you feeling undernourished. Yet, with an impeccable cast and execution that will have you gripped throughout.
Performances of The Chalice have now concluded at Dublin Fringe 2025.
Jasmine Silk
