Reviews

Noah and the Tower Flowerat the Axis Arts Centre and The Dilemma of a Ghostat the Project Upstairs

Noah and the Tower Flower at the Axis Arts Centre, Ballymun, Dublin

If you put a gun onstage in Act I, Chekhov decreed, it should be fired before the curtain. The gun here is just a metaphor; Chekhov's lesson was about building plot and generating suspense, knowing that irrespective of prop or detail a play should always pack heat. Sean McLoughlin seems to have taken the rule literally with his debut play, one that makes "Chekhov's gun" an actual gun, briefly unearthed in the play's opening moments and destined to reappear before the night is done.

Sadly, the drama of Fishamble's production rests almost entirely in that concealed plot device, for while McLoughlin certainly demonstrates a keen eye for character and an ear for amusingly blunt dialogue, he is less steady when using them to service a story.

Complete strangers who meet in a bar in Ballymun, Noah (Darren Healy) tells Natalie (Mary Murray) that he has been released from Mountjoy that morning, having served time for GBH and vandalism. She soon tells him that she is a recovering heroin addict awaiting relocation after the impending demolition of her tower block. With the ice so delicately broken, they introduce themselves. "So what's the story with ye, anyway?" asks Noah. Is he paying attention? With nowhere in particular left to go, they repair to Natalie's flat where their conversation is embroidered with elaboration, anecdotes, and liberal pop-culture references: Healy's Noah - tough, sensitive and prone to sudden violence - is naturally a Robert De Niro obsessive, given to frequent impersonations. Murray's Natalie - tough, sensitive and prone to sudden dancing - is an Elton John obsessive given to frequent boogies.

The combination of this burgeoning relationship between two bruised souls, the possibility of a fresh start for both, and Noah's loosening hold of sanity may seem oddly familiar - Frankie and Johnny in the Claire de Lune meets Taxi Driver, perhaps - but if McLoughlin's dialogue owes much to film, his stagecraft is dispiritingly staid.

Despite decent performances, director Jim Culleton's production seems restless, Murray coiling in an armchair, Healy clenched and taut throughout. Even the graffitied frame, dangling windows and playground swing of Sinead O'Hanlon's set seem to yearn for something beyond these confines. Inertia may well be McLoughlin's subject - Noah's arc, he makes clear, is dead in the water - but no amount of salt and grit in the words makes the experience feel less static. After the gun has reappeared, bringing some briefly frenzied consequences, Noah asks Natalie if there's any chance of "knockin' off the dramatics". Any chance of knocking them on? Runs until Apr 28 Peter Crawley

The Dilemma of a Ghost at the Project Upstairs

Ghanian Ama Ata Aidoo wrote and produced this play in 1964, and although it signals the writer and scholar she was to become, it has not worn its years well. Bisi Adigun, the director for Arambe Productions, clearly hoped that it would contain an analogue for immigration into Ireland today. But it is too remote in time and situation for that, and must here rely on an innate warmth in its characters to engage its audiences.

The simple story has Ato Quayson, a young man who has completed his studies in the United States, returning home to Ghana with his bride Eulalie, a black American. There, his grandmother, mother, sister and a couple of uncles greet them and seek to integrate the couple into local customs and family practices. Ato is willing, but his wife declines to be assimilated.

The most important of these is a traditional or tribal requirement that the pair set about starting a family without delay. They have, however, already agreed to defer this until circumstances and economics make it desirable - a sacrilegious decision in the eyes of their extended family, who at first believe that Eulalie must be barren and in need of primitive rituals. When they understand the situation, Ato must bear the brunt of their outrage; a man should manage these things better.

The play moves too slowly to an illogical resolution of the dilemma, compounding other sporadic difficulties of audibility and heavily accented language. But the major problem is simply its age, and the presentation of characters still mired in primitive superstitions. The likeable cast manage to deflect criticism most of the time, and end on an upbeat curtain. Runs until Sat Gerry Colgan