THE WEIR. To 13 October.

Pitlochry

THE WEIR
by Conor McPherson

Pitlochry Festival Theatre In rep to 13 October 2004
Mon-Sat 8pm Mat Wed & Sat 2pm
Runs 1hr 45min No interval

TICKETS: 01796 484626
www.pitlochry.org.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 19 August

A strong end to thePitlochry season in its own right, and hopefully a manifesto to expand the repertoire's range.Conor McPherson's play occupies Pitlochry's graveyard shift. Brought in halfway through the season, when the actors already have other, often substantial, roles to play, there's only one showing a week (there had been 11 performances of the other 5 Pitlochry productions between this and the previous Weir).

It must be an actor's nightmare scenario, especially in a play like this where every role is exposed throughout 105 minutes' continuous playing-time. If there were a few uncertain moments, the production's already very good. Come September, it will probably have gained even more refinement.

In some ways, it's experimental for Pitlochry. No red curtains swishing aside to reveal the set (which usually provokes a round of applause here). No, Brendan's rural Irish pub is visible as we enter, reaching out towards the auditorium - and thereby allowing the action to be played forward, rightly for such an intimate piece.

Then there are the occasional swear words, natural and sometimes almost affectionate in the largely male conversation among Brendan's regulars, but not the sort of thing one hears in this theatre (not, anyway, when the audience is present). Yet the major innovation, the real shock, the greatest affront to proper expectations is likely to be the lack of an interval.

Not that you'd want the play's perfectly-tailored action to be interrupted, especially when presented with the detail it receives here. Trevor Coe's cluttered set suggests the haphazard, all-male world (about to recieve its first female visitor in ages) of people who have so much to say in an age that has literally bypassed most of them.

And Mark Pritchard's lighting (an undersung contribution to the entire season) doesn't go for too much warmth, creating instead a brightness contrasting the dark visible outside the rear windows. In line with the production being the experimental wing of the programme, the lighting abandons realism to lower intensity as the several spooky stories at the play's heart emerge, brightening and widening in scope as the chat returns to the everyday and casual.

Baron's a good director, though last year he muffed his 'heavyweight' contribution to the repertoire, Shaw's Man and Superman (in the milder 3-act version), trying to make it an easily-assimilated social comedy, rather than one of ideas. This year, he's taken a play at full value and the quality repeatedly shows.

It shows in the emotional crescendo of Guy Fearon's Brendan, unable to decide whether to have a drink, or indeed a life; in the calm, kindly resignation of Martyn James' superbly played Jack, left behind along with his garage after the new road came along. And in Dougal Lee's spring-stepped, heartily cheerful Finbar, the businessman who's gone away, and got on by getting on with people. Yet it's his brisk, businesslike thoughtlessness that leads to Valerie's distress.

Then there's Rory Murray's Jimmie. If this season were a race, Murray would by now be coming up strong on the inside track. After his hilarious school man in The Government Inspector, he now shows a cheery unassertiveness, unoffending and co-operative.

Yet it's Jimmie's story that pulls the general ghost-stories to a darker focus that touches on Valerie's actual experience. Trying both to comfort her yet unable to ignore the implications of his tale, Jimmie becomes a moving, significant figure.

Angela McGowan eventually tells her story at the edge of tears. This is justifiable, but the exposed emotion on stage in such an intimate piece is more offputting than involving.

Still, it's a beautifully tactful performance overall, letting Valerie's presence provoke reactions from the men about their accustomed language and manner. Her character gradually asserts itself by implication, reaching the appropriate level in time for her story.

With its small emotional explosions and quietly indeterminate close, this production shows Pitlochry confidently extending its range. And indicates just how fine an ensemble the theatre has been able to attract to the Scottish hills for the summer.

Brendan: Guy Fearon
Jack: Martyn James
Jim: Rory Murray
Finbar: Dougal Lee
Valerie: Angela McGowan

Director: Richard Baron
Designer: Trevor Coe
Lighting: Mark Pritchard
Costume: Monika Nisbet

2004-08-20 14:17:41