Ceilidh utilizes an early twist to set up the audience for the emotional gut punch that is the climactic second twist.

This new musical, now in Baltimore, is not the first to plant actors among the audience who ultimately announce themselves as thespians later in the performance. Following suit, in the middle of Ceilidh’s act 1, an older gent sitting in the front row speaks his first line, which could surprise those who had assumed he was a mere spectator. 

Personally, I did not put any further thought into considering his identity and who he might be in relation to our lead characters, figuring he was an unnamed member of the story’s ensemble revels.

And then the second twist hits. 

At the very end, we learn that he’s in fact one of the lead characters, albeit later in life and now beset by dementia, which explains his hazy identity up until this point. 

It’s only through the power of Ceilidh’s communal music that he fleetingly recalls his truth for us to realize, which constitutes the conclusion to his character arc that’s been unfolding before us in plain sight the entire time, if we pieced it together. 

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I’m buying all of the Sam Pinkleton stock.