There’s no way to predict all the feelings Brian Friel’s play “Dancing at Lughnasa” may evoke in you. But if you see the Tony Award-winning drama, which opened Friday at the Belfast Maskers Railroad Theater, be prepared to laugh and cry and wonder at the ways of the Mundy sisters, a poor but spunky group who live in County Donegal, Ireland.

Maggie tells riddles. Agnes is homely and sensitive, especially when she cares for Rose, who is slightly crazed and ready at any moment to explode in song or dance. Kate is stern and moralizing but underneath has legs that want to kick to a jig. And Chrissy loves to foxtrot and break the rules.

The sisters run the household, gossip, lament their unmarried lives, and care for two men: their brother Jack, who has just returned from 25 years of missionary work in Africa and can hardly speak his native tongue let alone readjust to his own Catholic faith, and Chrissy’s “love child” Michael, who narrates the play from his memories about three uneventful weeks when he was 7 years old in August of 1936. Michael is a middle-aged man as he tells the story, but pops into his younger role as the memories unfold. His aunts speak to the air as if a young boy were there, and Michael provides the voice while he stands as an adult on another part of the stage.

He also steps out of the main story to give the denouements of the characters’ lives, but it doesn’t matter that you find out the rather sad endings because, as he says, “Atmosphere is more real than incident,” and atmosphere is what reels this play forward.

The mood is framed by three elements. First, there is the family’s first wireless radio, a connection to the musical world outside and a virtual member of the Mundy clan (so much so they always refer to it as “Marconi,” as if it were an exotic Italian half-sibling).

Second, Michael’s father, Gerry, a Welsh drifter, visits twice and leaves an indelible impression on his son.

And finally, there is the late summer harvest festival of Lughnasa (pronounced LEW-nasa), a time of dancing, drinking and wild rituals which the properly Catholic Mundys cannot quite bring themselves to describe. They, of course, do not participate in the pagan festival, but news of it punctuates their days and acts as a foil to the repression their own practices have imposed on their lives.

But the Mundys cannot be kept entirely under restraint. They live close to the land, and close to their hearts. At one point, when the Marconi delivers a high-stepping tune, Maggie powders her face in flour and bursts into a dance. Her sisters — and even the zipped-up Kate — join her in an uncontrollable moment of heathen expression. The outburst throws everyone into unspeakable contact with something vitally, joyously animalistic, perhaps much like Lughnasa itself.

Although playwright Friel has been criticized for lacking the literal grace of Irish dramatists, the script has a sweetness and minimalism that goes beyond the intellectual sphere.

Director Michael Toner, who also plays the role of Michael, has taken on a huge task by choosing this play, which calls for actors who have a facility with Irish accents, a sensitivity to cultural differences and a subtlety of expression. All of the connections between the pagan and proper, the expressed and unexpressed have to be there, and Toner certainly accomplished this with his performance. Sometimes, the directing lapses into sentimentality, which is the dreadful potential that lingers in the wings of any memory play, but the moments, thankfully, pass quickly.

The rest of the cast is mostly disappointing even though each of the actors has moments that are worthwhile. Sandra Piechocki (Maggie) has the right fiery energy. Lisa Goodridge (Kate) is terse and harsh. Pam McKeen (Chris), Sandhya Maltby (Agnes) Heather Frye (Rose) and Peter Conant (Jack) all put forth their best effort to develop believable characters. But, at least on opening night, the troupe was beholden to lines and cues in such a way that sacrificed the spontaneity you expect from the firecracker Mundys. Ron Cowan plays a dapper Gerry, but even so he doesn’t show the charm that supposedly has each of the Mundys smitten.

Despite the reach that exceeds the grasp of this cast, you have to admire them for grabbing onto this project. This is an important play, which you generally have to leave the state to see because it is so recent and weighty. The actors will probably grow into the roles as the run progresses, so wait a week or two, and go see it. It is a lovely end-of-summer drama, both funny and sad, and offers so much worth recognizing about the way life can unfold.

“Dancing at Lughnasa” will be performed 8 p.m. Aug. 19-21, 26-28, and Sept. 2-4 at the Belfast Maskers Railroad Theater on Water Street in Belfast. For tickets, call 338-