THE WEIR. To 8 November.
Newcastle-under-Lyme.
THE WEIR
by Conor McPherson.
New Vic Theatre To 8 November 2008.
Runs 1hr 45min No interval.
Review: Timothy Ramsden 4 November.
Despite an obtrusive set, a finely-played revival.
This revival of Conor McPherson’s play sits well in a story-telling autumn at the New Vic. Before it came Priestley’s Dangerous Corner, where a happy-seeming family discover the real story of their lives; to follow there’s the Arabian Nights.
Much of The Weir consists of ghostly tales, told in a rural Irish pub. Provoked partly by a photo of the local weir, they are weird, increasingly so, though the weir itself plays no part in them. Dark tales on a dark night they may be, but McPherson ensures they’re part of the modern world. Similarly, his later play Shining City shows the supernatural shockingly manifested in the modern, urban world, with its window onto the buildings of Dublin.
Here, two of the men work in a garage, another’s made good in the city, whence he’s brought Valerie, who’s taken a nearby property. The pub’s gearing up for the annual influx of the foreigners known generically as Germans.
Meanwhile, Valerie’s accommodating as can be, but her presence disturbs the pub’s very male world. There’s no wine in stock, no usable female toilet. From a different angle, if these stories became competitive, the play would be a parade of supernatural shocks from the men, though ones gradually circling from general fantasy to more particular tales, followed by a knock-out win for Valerie with her story of intense personal tragedy.
Theresa Heskins’ production catches the mix of languor in the steady beat of local lives with the nervousness of both the men and Valerie at their meeting. Politeness towards and from her is counterpointed by the not-quite not-serious insults between go-ahead businessman Brendan, who left the community, and Jack and Jim, who’ll be seeing each other as usual for their daily work in the morning.
Playing in the round doesn’t especially help in a play where longish stories are to be told, while designer Liz Cooke’s sizeable bar and tables clogs the area somewhat, and a small slope at the edge seems to separate action from audience. But there’s a fine cast, with Billy Boyle’s Jack, so clearly accustomed to this life, outstanding.
Jack: Billy Boyle.
Valerie: Mairead Conneely.
Brendan: Dominic Gately.
Jim: Ged McKenna.
Finbar: Steve Nealon.
Director: Theresa Heskins.
Designer: Liz Cooke.
Lighting: Charles Balfour.
Sound: James Earls-Davis.
Voice coach: Mark Langley.
2008-11-17 17:33:59