The theme that permeates Sarah Kane's Blasted from start to finish is violence in all its manifestations. It can be the psychic violence of sick love, of bestial sex, of physical brutality at the personal level, or the organised butchery of people at war. All of them degrade and corrupt.
In the first act, a man and a woman enter a hotel room, apparently in some British city, to spend time together. He is a reporter in vaguely military dress, armed with a revolver and bent on sex. She gives an impression of being mildly retarded, and has fits when she is agitated. We learn that he is incurably ill. They stay for the night, the time interspersed with flurries of explicitly suggested sexual activity. She goes outside and a fully armed soldier bursts in and threatens the man.
As the second act opens, it is clear that we are now somewhere in a war zone - Kosovo is suggested. The soldier has been brutalised by his experiences, and has passed on his sufferings in the torture and rape of others. Before the play ends, he has raped the sick man and been killed himself. The girl returns with a baby who dies in her arms. It all ends in a hopeless and surreal shambles.
One cannot avoid the knowledge that the author wrote this horrific play at the age of 23, and died of suicide at 29. Her vision here of humanity in its own special gutter is painful to absorb. I cannot say that I enjoyed this play - who could? - but I will remember it when I have forgotten others more worthy.
The cast of three are altogether brilliant. One feels the pain and nihilism of Lalor Roddy's man; Fiona O'Shaughnessy hammers home the stage reputation she has been building; and Aidan Kelly's soldier is all menace and rage. Jimmy Fay directs them unflinchingly to underline the play's raw integrity.
Runs until December 8th; to book phone 1850-260027