Rum and Vodka

One of Conor McPherson's earliest (1992) monologue plays, this is the story of a weekend in the life of a 24-year-old Dubliner in some trouble.

He has a house in Raheny where he lives with his wife and two daughters. He has a steady job in the civil service and an unhealthy appetite for pints and shorts.

He had met his wife at a party and, having impregnated her, left his steady girlfriend to marry her and set up home.

And this particular weekend he heaved his computer terminal out of the office window and watched it fall on the boss's car below.

Deeming himself to be out of a job he turned, as usual, to the pints and shorts, came home drunk, didn't have the money to pay for the weekly groceries the next morning, couldn't tell the wife he was jobless, fled from the supermarket, found more drink and spent two days partying to no good purpose in the company of strangers.

He remained self-loathing, the void inside him unfilled by either the drink or some vigorous casual sex, his life still unplanned, pointless and poignant.

This simple sad tale is, as might be expected from its author, hilariously funny even as it retains the sadness and poignancy of a life seemingly lost.

It is told vividly in direct and often coarse language, and the performance by Alexander Downes is dispassionately and effectively played with minimalist direction by Colin O'Connor.

A man in an expensive pinstripe suit (not his own) faces us from a simple platform and tells us his story. It may not be a major work of dramatic art, but it makes compelling, insightful and entertaining theatre in its brief (about an hour) playing time, with an unnecessary interval to spin out the evening.

Until tomorrow in the Bank of Ireland Centre. Booking 01 6711488. In Tallaght Civic Theatre from May 31st to June 12th. Booking 01 462 7477.