Absolut Fringe Factory
The Pajama Men, not surprisingly, wear pyjamas. This doesn’t really have any bearing on the show, except perhaps to suggest that they’re caught up in some kind of mad nightmare – but they’re very discreet pyjamas, and this is the North Inner City, so nobody bats an eyelid. We’re in a new Fringe venue and on opening night it’s packed – literally: chairs are so jammed together that you can’t avoid getting up close and pretty personal with complete strangers. And it’s hot… let the nightmare begin.
The Pajama Men are a likeable duo, the one a put-upon poodley type, the other a dead ringer for Fr Dougal, with an incredibly mobile face. They power their way through a show that combines manic stream of consciousness with hectic physical comedy – some very funny, and some a tad laboured – switching multiple characters at the drop of a hat, the pitch of a voice or the pull of a grin. It’s a trainride to hell, and some of it is quite bizarre – an extended riff on horse porn, for example – but there are also some real gems: the one-sided fisticuffs spring to mind, bringing a whole new meaning to the phrase beating yourself up. (until Sat 25)
What the Folk!
There’s a little bit of Kerry in Temple Bar, where 4 lively members of Siamsa Tire, the National Folk Theatre, have taken up residence – literally – in 25 Eustace Street, a beautifully restored early Georgian house owned by the Landmark Trust. They welcome us into their temporary home, offer us tea and cake and we all sit down for a chat. We prefer singing and dancing to talking, they say, as they bust into razor sharp harmonies, indulge in a joyous knees-up and give us a very funny and informative demonstration of the difference between folk and competitive dancing, all the while sharing stories about the pleasures and pains of belonging to the extended Siamsa family. Absolutely charming. (until Sun 26)
Medea
Samuel Beckett Theatre
This is really gripping stuff, a Medea for our times in a powerful and lucid translation by Scottish poet Robin Robertson. Eileen Walsh is mesmerising as Medea, raw, wretched, consumed with shock and rage at her husband’s betrayal, as those around her tiptoe in the shadows, hoping to calm things down and dreading what might happen, moving at times like dancers as they weave in and out of focus. With a terrific cast, director Selina Cartmell works her magic to make all the extraneous elements gel in this absolutely compelling production, from Paul O’Mahony’s two-tier set with its little rooms laid out like a story book, to the sharp-edged lighting, subtle choreography and occasional moments of freeze-frame, while the natural ease of those two little brothers (Levi and Isaac O’Sullivan) compounds the intensity of the drama that surrounds them. And boy is this intense – so much so that you almost feel the final confrontation between Medea and Jason might have been better left unsaid. But all in all a vivid and thrilling show. (until Sat 25)
Delicious O'Grady
Smock Alley
This got a stinking review in the Irish Times, which probably says more about the reviewer than the show. Having got a taster of this one-man famine skit as part of Project Brand New, I was happy to go back for more. Granted, there are flaws, some of the material is pretty weak, especially at the start, and some of the characterisations are a bit thin, but stick with it and you’ll be treated to some very funny stuff, as well as clever use of video projections, not to mention O’Grady’s impressive acrobatic skills. Colm O’Grady’s humour mightn’t be to everyone’s taste, but 1 star? And The Pajama Men got 5????? (until Sat 25)
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