The Weir

In an Irish pub in a remote coastal village four blokes drink their way through a lifetime of familiarities and minor tensions. Tonight though is different. One of them, the cocky real estate agent, has brought Valerie, an attractive new resident from Dublin. The three others, bachelors, are out to impress.

In the best Irish tradition, they tell well-lubricated stories of local ghosts, fairies and other supernatural oddities – but Valerie then tops them all with a very real, human horror story of her own.

The New’s former artistic director Alice Livingstone directs a polished, well- paced cast who are nicely housed on Jessica Sinclair Martin’s comfy pub set. This community of village pub binds these locals, despite the tensions in their sometimes awkward pauses. But loneliness nibbles at their soul.

Peter McAllum over-telegraphs the grumpy anger of the thwarted Jack but by the end, when he matches Valerie’s true confession, he delivers well in this pivotal role. Barry French is also strong as the quiet odd jobs man Jim, living with his elderly mother. Lynden Jones is the young publican Brendan and Patrick Connelly is Finbar, the realty agent whose amiable banter barely disguises an arrogance in his success.

Conor McPherson’s celebrated play (premiered in 1997) relishes these idiosyncratic folk and their tales but really cuts raw when Valerie (Amanda Stephens Lee) brings them to reality. While this denouement will ripen better as the season develops, The Weir is already an impressively staged production, engaging and life-enhancing.

Martin Portus

Photographer: Matthias Engesser