Reviews

Irish Times writers review Aversion - Phaedra after Racine at Belvedere college, Buridan's Ass at Bewley's Café Theatre, RomAntic…

Irish Times writers review Aversion - Phaedra after Racine at Belvedere college, Buridan's Ass at Bewley's Café Theatre, RomAntic aGE at Andrew's Lane Studio and Walk in Dirt also at Andrews Lane Studio.

Tar Turns: ***** Brilliant **** Good *** More good than bad ** More bad than good * Bad

Aversion - Phaedra after Racine *

The Chapel, Belvedere College

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Gerry Colgan

It seems reasonable to propose that a work staged for an audience should be capable of communicating with it. The overriding impression left by this production from Nervousystem, directed by Aiden Condron, is that it is quite incomprehensible.

The actors (Marian Araujo and Regan O'Brien) are two young women in white nightgowns, who have nothing to say for about 20 minutes. They twitch and shake spasmodically, appear to retch as from bulimia, slap and embrace each other. When they do speak, nothing else changes, and their garbled speech conveys no meaning.

By stretching the imagination, one may associate their convulsions with, perhaps, an exorcism of Phaedra's illicit love for her stepson in the original, but it is a metaphor too far. The company has clearly laboured mightily, only to deliver a manifest gaffe. The advertised 90 minutes have shrunk to less than 60 in performance - but who's complaining?

Runs until September 25th

Buridan's Ass ****

Bewley's Café Theatre

Gerry Colgan

Everything about this short lunchtime play, from author S.R. Plant's biographical note to the origin of the title, seems to shriek of spoof. It is a sharp little farce with two taxidermists mired in a dying profession. Mahone - think about it - and his apprentice Ernest are almost out of work, and are trying to stuff a pet badger as the play opens.

Mahone, the Norman Bates of the animal kingdom, tells Ernest of his halcyon days in Saudi Arabia, where he left behind a lost love. The younger man, existing without wages, has been living off the contents of the firm's fridge - his mother is a good cook. Romance is in the air. It is beautifully acted by the manic Arthur Riordan and the lugubrious Frank Bourke, and directed by Michael James Ford, with enough narrative ingenuity and verbal virtuosity to bring it off. Good for the digestion.

Runs until October 9th

RomAntic aGE ***

Andrews Lane Studio

Belinda McKeon

Firebrand Theory, a New York-based company, has had an inspired rifle through the writings of the poet William Blake, and the result is an exploration of urban loneliness and redemption that, while erratic, is always impassioned. And always authentic - in a clever work of warp and woof, every last word spoken onstage by the five-member cast is a quote from Blake himself.

Jaime Robert Carrillo plays the unnamed protagonist, a New York immigrant betrayed by both his wife and his city, and everything from The Chimney Sweeper to Never Seek to Tell Thy Love is recruited to translate his woe - neatly, indeed poignantly at times, but in too laboured and self-conscious a fashion at others. Carrillo's own performance is powerful, his anguish palpable, but the private angel and devil which shadow his ordeal are played with scant originality by his companions onstage, and other characters are thinly drawn, while a promising soundtrack is marred by jerky application. Still, fans of the poems may love this, and it's an interestingly modern delve into a romantic notebook.

Runs until September 25th

Walk in Dirt **

Andrews Lane Studio

Patrick Lonergan

In this solo show, a middle-aged man describes his experiences as he wanders around an unnamed city. He runs into a predictable bunch during his journey - a drug-addict prostitute, a bitchy housewife, a homeless alcoholic and a fearful mother. Things briefly get colourful - and loud - during a trip to a gay bar. But generally the mood is downbeat and sentimental.

Written and performed by Stephen House, this tale of urban alienation features some clever observations and snappy, charismatic acting. But the show suffers greatly from being delivered in rhyming couplets - with wincingly predictable rhyme, and a tiresome lack of rhythmic variation throughout. Perhaps some comment is being made here about the contrast between rhythmic order and urban chaos, but the inevitability and awkwardness of each rhyme proves distracting. This is a sincere work with some good ideas, but it is straight-jacketed by an unoriginal use of language.

Runs until September 25th

The Dublin Fringe Festival runs until October 10th. Tel: 1850 374643 for bookings, or book on-line at www.fringefest.com