A late song dedication to George Best stirred up echoes of the football legend's famous anecdote.
As Paul Weller, the indefatigable 47-year-old rocker, still sleek and stylish as a GQ model, pounded through Shout to the Top on the first of two sold-out gigs to general elation, the words of Best's ironic room-service waiter hovered in the air; where did it all go wrong? Weller never went away.
The man who broke up The Jam when it made little sense to do so (and refused to reform them when it did) has always been a mercurial and influential figure in rock. From The Style Council to his solo incarnation and honorary title of the "modfather", Weller has followed his own path through Motown and soul, jazz pop and house music, shedding fans with each turn, before being resuscitated by his die-hard acolytes.
Age has certainly not diminished the Weller who struts through the Olympia, riding high on an uninterrupted solo career, with a new album, As Is Now, and a 10th anniversary reissue, Stanley Road, to flog. But if the passing years have granted his voice more character, they have afforded his music rather less
. "We're getting somewhere now," he grins after the coiled rhythm and snarling riff of Porcelain Gods slides, via a lengthy jam, into I Walk on Gilded Splinters. Indeed we are, but having already endured 12 workmanlike rockers, couldn't we have gotten there much earlier?
Weller plays a long game, and his loyal followers have learned to pace themselves. Taking newer material with a benign tolerance, they finally let loose during the acoustic stomp of Wild Wood or the feedback-soaked Jam classic In the Crowd. That's Entertainment and The Changingman are both grippingly succinct but it's Town Called Malice, a peerless song that still invites you either to dance or kick out your frustrations, that knocks away Weller's banal successes to rekindle the raw passion beneath. - Peter Crawley
The Snow Queen - St Luke's Church, Cork
Sturdy and almost matter-of-fact in approach, the Graffiti Theatre Company's presentation of The Snow Queen with Cork 2005 is distinguished by the quality of its team of four young actors who carry a multitude of roles.
This long Hans Christian Andersen story combines both religion and superstition and offers a cautious metaphor for adolescence while at the same time surging into such fairy-tale elements as talking crows, wise rivers, threatening forests and conversational flowers.
Snow, cold and ice suggest the spiritual context of a maturity growing without guidance - much like that endured by the teenage Andersen himself.
Spring and summer are re-birth and flowering; under their influence even the bad can do good, although the Snow Queen remains, much as her warmer male counterpart remains, a constant possibility.
Written originally in seven episodes, the story of Kai and Gerda is told as a journey, and in his adaptation Mike Kenny keeps this structure so that the leading characters introduce each section and lead the audience step by step through each encounter.
Georgina Miller, John McCarthy, Mark O'Brien and Brid Treasa Wyndham work together extremely well, managing potentially complex transformations with skill and with the necessary touches of comedy to keep this production both diverting and convincing.
The sound effects by Cormac O'Connor support the players and complete the effectiveness of each scene change, the set design by Olan Wrynneing includes much flowing fabric and falling snow.
But these, with Paul Denby's lighting, while providing atmosphere and location, would be meaningless without the conviction of the acting team. Directed by Emelie FitzGibbon, it is their shared spirit and commitment to the evolution of this strange, compelling story which brings Andersen to convincing life yet again. - Mary Leland
Runs until Dec 17
