Marie Jones, a writer of comedy, doesn’t intentionally aim for humour. She believes that she has an innate tendency towards comedy. Should her writing delve too deep, she turns to comedy to keep herself from falling into a state of desolation and sadness.
Despite her comedic tendencies, Jones has taken on earnest roles in her acting career, such as Sarah Conlon in ‘In The Name of the Father’ and has starred in other dramatic films such as ‘Philomena.’ Her play, ‘A Night in November,’ narrates a deeply serious story about a Northern Protestant’s transformative journey away from sectarianism, which she considers making heavy subject matter.
However, her default writing style always resorts to humour. According to Jones, even in tragic situations such as wakes, the Irish employ humour as a coping mechanism. She sees it as essential to alleviate sadness and prevents people from succumbing to despair – always ensuring, however, that it is never done in a disrespectful way.
Reflect back to the year 1998, a time when menopause and its effects were scarcely acknowledged or discussed. Jones remembers her mother, who was in her 70s at the time, denying the existence of menopause because it wasn’t talked about. With her play ‘Women on the Verge of HRT,’ written in the late 90s and first produced in 1998 by DubbelJoint Theatre Company, Jones shattered this taboo.
The play, which featured Jones and Eileen Pollock as the lead actors, was a pioneering comedic take on the menopausal experience of two women attending a Daniel O’Donnell concert in Donegal. Today, there is a broader understanding of the menopause, including its impact on middle age, boosting self-assurance and, occasionally, comedy. This includes works such as Anne Gildea’s ‘How to Get Menopause & Enjoy It’ and ‘Menopause the Musical’ from America. Jones’s play, however, remains the original comedic approach to the topic.
In Dublin, Jones is currently preparing for a novelty production. The GBL, a commercial theatre company from the North, paired up with Matthew McElhinney, one of her triplet sons, are to direct the play at the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin and the Grand Opera House in Belfast. Now in her early seventies, Jones radiates life and never fails to fill a room with her endless chatter. Charged up with energy, she is a remarkably funny woman from east Belfast, recognisable by her petite stature and infectious laugh.
The idea that women in their forties are fans of Daniel O’Donnell might seem out of place today. Can ‘Women on the verge of HRT’ still hit the mark? “This very thought crossed my mind. I wasn’t keen on doing it again, but after some research, we discovered that the target audience hasn’t changed one bit,” explains Jones.
One of the female characters holds this feeling of being lost in a torrent of middle-aged people at a Daniel O’Donnell show. She feels out of place, while others are enjoying themselves. Her predicament? Having a husband aged 50, remarrying someone half his age to feel youthful, and realising this scenario doesn’t often flip the other way. It seemed ironclad to her.
As for the other character, she puts forth a contrasting opinion: waking up next to a soul mate, irrespective of physical attraction, is satisfying enough. But she’s alone, without even a soulmate. She confesses her longing to socialise, to be intimate but believes that her menopausal status has labelled her as redundant. A significant number of women resonate with this sentiment.
Nonetheless, Daniel O’Donnell is merely a plot device in the play.
Of course, many laugh at the expense of Daniel O’ Donnell. However, the joke isn’t really on him, but on his fanbase comprising mostly of older women who are often not taken seriously, labelled as ‘middle-aged nobodies’. That’s usually where the punchline lands, says Jones.
The main issue isn’t with Daniel O’Donnell himself but the lack of recognition his core fanbase receives as individuals. Had his music catered to a more sophisticated, discerning populace things might have been different. In a similar way to how Swedes react to international adulation for Abba, there is almost a sense of embarrassment. However, now Abba is loved universally.
In the same vein, the theatrical production wasn’t centred solely around hormone replacement therapy (HRT). It could have had any number of appellations, such as women near their fading period, approaching the invisible stage, menopausal symptoms, or simply hot flushes. “However, titling it ‘HRT’ gave it a certain crispness”, Jones observes. “When the drug was launched, a discussion around menopause ensued. The treatment for menopause was HRT, yet the actual emotional experience and feelings of being a woman wasn’t addressed.”
Even in the present day, Jones notes that “predominantly middle-class, educated women, discuss menopause.” Women often express a desire to see the play, especially those who were too young before. Jones mentions a woman who wanted to revisit the play after she herself experienced symptoms her husband mistook as a mental issue.
Initially, Jones was reluctant to host the show again. “Although, frequent inquiries about the play’s return during my shopping trips made me reconsider,” she adds.
Her upbringing in a working-class Protestant community in east Belfast traditionally found support in unionist parties. Nevertheless, voting trends have diversified. More individuals are disassociating from partisan politics, likely supporting Alliance or SDLP, as part of an emerging moderate political perspective.
“Alliance is quite popular in east Belfast”, remarks Jones. “Naomi Long has a substantial following. She’s backed by many women. However, other parties like DUP and UUP continue to maintain a significant presence.”
Jones was of the view that in their local network, there seemed to be a lack of alternative to Stormont. The inability of civil servants and administrators to reach decisions led to a widespread feeling of frustration and hardship. There was dissatisfaction about why there was no return to a stable state. The arrival of Brexit was met with a sense of confusion as its implications weren’t clearly understood, and people didn’t comprehend the impact of their ‘yes’ or ‘no’ votes.
Jones underlines that there was gross miscommunication and neglect which led to this widespread bewilderment. Questions such as ‘What is the protocol?’ or ‘What is the backstop?’ echoed around, with very little understand about them. In her opinion, no one could chart out the implications of the protocol since the choice was only between consent and dissent, she expresses.
Some believed that the British government would manage the exit from the European Union without much disruption, she narrates. However, Jones raises the issue about the geographical attachment of the UK to a part of Europe through Ireland. She is astonished at the oversight by politicians and the public about potential complications this could cause to the trade and travel between these regions, in the absence of a border.
She also mentions that the current political events, particularly the crises within the DUP, have the public’s attention. These topics are recurring subjects of local gossips and discussions, much to her disappointment.
Jones shares that she hasn’t given up acting completely, even though she now devotes more time to her writing. She finds solace at The Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig in Co Monaghan where she works on her writings, away from any distractions. After the current turmoil gets over, she plans to adapt a Christmas Carol for the Lyric theatre there. Jones relishes the solitude of her cottage, her writing, and her wine; uninterrupted by anyone or anything else. She enjoys the freedom to focus on her work and dwell on her thoughts. She describes it as a “brilliant” lifestyle.
Known for her prominent work, ‘Stones in His Pockets’, Marie Jones has gained international acclaim. Matthew Mcelhinney, another notable in the theatrical community, recently undertook a fresh interpretation of Jones’ piece for the Lyric that has been touring since September. Despite her achievements, Jones remains dedicated to her craft jokingly exclaiming that she will persist till her hand and head literally drop off.
Marie Jones currently resides in the suburban region of southeast Belfast, sharing her abode with Ian McElhinney, her spouse, who traces his roots to a more sophisticated upbringing. Son to a Church of Ireland Minister, Ian grew up in a vicarage nestled in Lisburn, belonging to the Lambeg rectorate. His educational journey took him to America, post which he taught in Yorkshire before returning to Belfast to embark on an acting career. His impressive career portfolio boasts roles as Ser Barristan Selmy in the popular Game of Thrones and Granda Joe in Derry Girls, adding a lively element to their household. However, Jones opines that while he can be amusing, he also possesses a more serious side, quite contrary to his character Granda Joe. People often recognise him, and are caught off guard by his posh accent.
Ian’s work often requires him to travel outside Belfast, a routine that Marie and their son, Matthew, have come to accustom. Matthew, 35, is an actor himself, who has always shared in their lifestyle. He is a jovial person who grew up in a world of acting. When he sees his father on screen, he often wonders when that particular piece was filmed. Marie, on the other hand, simply shows curiosity as to the remuneration of the project. However, they all take their work seriously, believing it to be their norm.
In the early days of performing “A Night in November”, recalls Jones, the production was brought to a predominantly DUP territory. Precautionary measures and security were employed amid concerns over controversial character dialogues. Reflecting back to 1994, she recalls a UTV vox pop in which, it is believed, the DUP mayor disagreed with much of the performance but acknowledged finding it incredibly humorous. Jones triumphantly shares this anecdote, echoing Dan Gordon’s sentiment that humour can be a great way to help people digest difficult topics, much like sugar helps medicine go down. Looking forward, the play “Women On The Verge of HRT” is slated to run at the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin from April 30th to May 4th and the Grand Opera House Belfast from May 6th to May 11th.