After the runaway national and international success of his Howie the Rookie, Mark O'Rowe has written a new play which is simultaneously enticing in its comedy, gripping in its drama, and repulsive in its violent obscenity. There are no monologues here; it is as physically and verbally interactive as any three-hander ever written. The physical interactivity is sufficient to intimate waves of nausea. The verbal interactivity traces almost delicate patterns of discussion about what the three characters perceive to be chic in their choice of clothing and a near pedantry in their choice of precise and sometimes difficult words. These are used to describe feelings and actions, and even snack foods, before the emotions heat up and they all descend into strings of almost meaningless four-letter obscenities.
The trio caught up in the action are Hughie, a smooth operator with a penchant for John Rocha-designed shirts; young Paddy - possibly Hughie's young brother - who enters almost invisibly enveloped in a snorkel jacket he has used to cover himself from the incessant rain pouring down outside the big sloping attic window of Hughie's apartment; and Kilby, jealously proud of both his leather jacket with some Chinese writing on the inside label and his prowess in martial arts. Kilby and Hughie describe each other as "echelons" of the deeply sinister, and neverseen, Puppacat, who seems to hold them in thrall. Paddy shows every sycophantic sign of wanting to become an echelon too, despite Hughie's discouragement. All three appear to have some running feud with the copper Dolan.
The language and intonations are clearly from the social underbelly of Dublin, but the apartment looks as though it is atop a New York brownstone, access to which can be gained only by heavy elevator. There are no scripted references to any locale but this does not matter for here is a universal tale of three seeming no-hopers in search of an unlikely redemption. Its author writes in one of the most original and unnerving voices to have emerged in Irish theatre since Samuel Beckett, gripping its audience mercilessly and unrelentingly.
Under Gerry Stembridge's unerring direction, with Mikel Murfi directing the fights, Anthony Brophy (Hughie), Luke Griffin (Paddy) and Andrew Connolly (Kirby) offer three tension-packed and terrifying performances that are wholly persuasive. Blaithin Sheerin's eerie and gritty setting of unadorned red-brick walls, superbly lit by Ben Ormerod, further enhances an unforgettable theatrical experience of nightmarish proportions.
Runs until Saturday, May 12th. Booking on 01-8787222.
