The Weir ****

Wyndham's Theatre, London
EXCERPT: "Josie Rourke’s production is ponderous, thoughtful, nuanced and firmly rooted in its historical context."

Plot summary:

Following the critically acclaimed sell-out run at the Donmar Warehouse, this modern ghost story transfers to Wyndham's Theatre for twelve weeks only. When it first premièred in 1997, The Weir won the Evening Standard, Critics' Circle and Olivier awards for Best New Play, and established Conor McPherson as one of our greatest living playwrights. Josie Rourke's critically-lauded, production reunites the extraordinary original Donmar company; Risteárd Cooper, Brian Cox, Dervla Kirwan, Peter McDonald and Ardal O'Hanlon. This is the first major British revival of one of the all-time great modern classics.

In Brendan's isolated pub on the west coast of Ireland, four men are gathering for a session, where their boasts are matched by their pints. The arrival of a stranger in their midst - a woman- spurs them to impress her with their story-telling. They are stories of souls past and of spirits very much present. But one story is more chilling and more real than any of them could have foreseen.  

Cast and Creatives:

Written by Conor McPherson

Directed by Josie Rourke

Designed by Tom Scutt

Finbar (flash guy) - Risteard Cooper

Jack (grumpy garage owner) - Brian Cox

Valerie (incomer) - Dervla Kirwan

Brendan (barman) - Peter McDonald

Jim (dim handyman) - Ardal O'Hanlon

Thoughts:

Conor McPherson’s The Weir is, in many ways, similar to other recent Donmar productions. Like Friel’s Philadelphia, Here I Come! and Wesker’s Roots, Josie Rourke’s production is ponderous, thoughtful, nuanced and firmly rooted in its historical context.

To transfer such a production from the intimacy of the Donmar to a West End stage is no mean feat, but Rourke and her cast have done admirably. Apart from a few moments of over-acting in the opening scene, the rest of the production continues without seeming to try to cater to the expanded auditorium at all. The cast and crew’s simple faith in the script is, I believe, the reason for their success. McPherson’s writing is beautifully evocative (at the description of a lump in a throat that makes eating a sandwich difficult, I physically imagined that cardboard feel in my own). However, his play’s success really relies on actors credibly realising their characters. We need (and in this production are given) sufficiently subtle and sophisticated acting to make us believe that the situation we see is ripe for such confessional outpourings. And, as an audience, if we want to enjoy the insight we are afforded into the group’s mundane conversations and lengthy monologues, it is crucial that we warm to the characters and relationships portrayed. Despite their steady drinking, Rourke is careful to limit our sense of alcohol’s part in these confessions. This is all to the good: if she had done otherwise, it would have compromised the emotional sincerity of the play.

The cast’s talent really does shine through. Although Dervla Kirwan’s accent leaves quite a lot to be desired, I am not such a stickler for them that it hugely impacted my enjoyment of her contribution. I found Kirwan and Brian Cox’s monologues, about losing a child and partner respectively, particularly moving. Their ability to hold our attention and evoke our empathy was outstanding. This play and production gives us five entirely believable people, in a beautifully designed replica of an Irish pub (Tom Scutt), talking about how the ghosts of people and lost possibilities from the past haunt us all still. And, produced with such sincerity and credibility, there is quite enough drama in that.