This is a play where nobody takes responsibility for their actions.  James Tyrone doesn’t acknowledge that his parsimony is responsible for his wife’s drug addiction and his absences on acting work neglected his family.  Mary, in her head, creates an unrealistic version of her life.  Jamie never faces up to his shortcomings and Edmund doesn’t accept that what he has is worse than a cold.  Mary’s father died of consumption and James tells Jamie not to mention it in case he dislodges Mary’s fantasy about her hero father.

Lizzie Clachan’s set is a plain weatherboarded house with wooden chairs and a table. The only lighting is a single bulb from a three armed hanging brass lamp.  It does look like austerity.  Eugene O’Neill’s play is regarded as a classic alongside the family dramas of Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller but it is a long watch even with performances, as good as these.  Jeremy Herrin directs well but you can’t speed up this play.