Reviews: Juno and the Paycockin Belfast and The Stranglers  in Dublin

Juno and the Paycock,

Grand Opera House,

Belfast

One could be forgiven for wondering what on earth could be done to breathe new life into this evergreen and frequently performed old favourite.

But, in its most recent arrival into a world that really is in a terrible state o' chassis, director Andrew Flynn and a fine cast manage to achieve a surprising amount. This is a co-production between Cork Opera House and the Association of Regional Theatres (ART NI), an organisation formed four years ago by five regional theatres in the North with the aim of taking high-quality productions of Irish classics out on the road up and down the country.

Flynn's credible, beautifully staged piece taps right into the political and social turmoil of 1920s Dublin, while subtly flagging up the hard-edged issues of our own time. Poverty, alcoholism, dysfunctional families, political instability, violence on the streets, financial ruin . . . this is the daily fodder of programmes such as the Jeremy Kyle Show, an element which was not missed by the astonishing number of audience members declaring this to be the first time they had seen the play.

Garrett Keogh is in fine fettle as the strutting Jack Boyle, his bombastic demeanour portraying a man whose bluster is but a thin veneer, cultivated to conceal personal and intellectual insecurities. Joe Hanley doles out some crowd-pleasing broad humour as a spindly-legged, capering Joxer, his facial features blurred beyond recognition by years of boozing. The two of them are at their most offensive in the comic scenes, where the unsmiling, care-worn expression of Brid Ni Neachtain's Juno speaks volumes for the long-standing effects of their terrible hilarity.

Ni Neachtain gives a feisty, heart-warming performance as the wife and mother whom her disastrous husband and children do not deserve. Judith Roddy is excellent as a prim, judgmental Mary, whose aspiration towards upward social mobility will bring the world down around her, while Diarmuid Noyes brings real truth to the sometimes thankless role of the doomed Johnny Boyle, out of his depth in shark-infested political waters. And in a brief but perfectly judged appearance, Stella McCusker's Mrs Tancred speaks for bereaved mothers the world over, her paralysing grief a ghastly omen for the fate which awaits Juno in the bleak, echoing final scenes of this unexpectedly haunting production.

Runs until Oct 18, then tours to Navan, Kilkenny, Cork, Castlebar, Ballybofey and Galway JANE COYLE

The Stranglers,

The Academy,

Dublin

The Stranglers are one of those long-lived bands who manage the difficult and unenviable trick of being less famous than many of their hits. While Peaches, Always the Sun, No More Heroesand, above all, Golden Brownare enduring classics, the band's line-up changes and stylistic variety over their three-decade career mean they have never loomed as large in the popular imagination as some of their best-known tunes.

Hugh Cornwell, the band's original front man, left all the way back in 1990, but when the "face" of a band that is fairly anonymous to start with leaves, it is always a challenge for an act to re-establish its identity. Subsequent vocalists Paul Roberts, who left in 2006, and current singer-guitarist Baz Warne are still measured against Cornwell, like new footballers trying to replace a departed idol.

A split-level stage kept Warne and founding member Jean-Jacques Burnel at the front of the stage, while a higher platform behind them was home to Dave Greenfield, whose noodling keyboards were always a big part of The Stranglers' sound, and drummer Jet Black. Black was back behind the drums after a spell sidelined through illness, and while he didn't look his best, the crowd's reaction, repeatedly chanting his name, was surely a welcome medicine.

Those in the audience were largely of the same vintage as the band themselves, and their fervour was a reflection of a relationship built up over 30-odd years and more than a dozen albums. They sang, they pogoed, they moshed, but above all, they provided much of the atmosphere.

There were certainly highlights, especially their keyboard-heavy version of Burt Bacharach Hal David's classic Walk On By, more prog than punk, and a riotous performance of The Kinks' All Day and All of the Night, but some of their renditions were leaden, particularly a perfunctory Always the Sunand Golden Brown- much as the crowd willed them to be magnificent, they seemed hurried and half-hearted.

The band finished, however, with a pulsating No More Heroes, proof enough for their loyal fans that The Stranglers were heroes still.  DAVIN O'DWYER