As the audience troops in, Harry Towb comes on as Mr Staines, carrying his trousers on his arm, and subsides into a chair to fall asleep. When his watchers have settled, the stage lights come on again to waken him, sleepy and confused. Is he having that classic male nightmare, in public with bare shanks? Or has something else begun?
Yes; it seems that a play has started, and that he has a leading role. A younger actor, the equally confused Mr McGregor, soon joins him. They are aware of the audience, and converse in bursts of inquiry and attempted answer, in which the voice of an overworked prompter is heard. A mute manager enters, adding an oppressive presence to the scenario.
There is a resonance to their words, rooted in a stage ambience but striking wider targets. It is in the nature of things to resemble something else. Some day you'll be glad of the hint, the whisper, an aside. The women are in the wings, unless they are in good spirits; then they may take the stage. The dialogue draws from its immediate source, and the ripples spread.
Dermot Healy's play is deliberately obscure in the sense of not underlining its metaphors; that, it implies, is a matter for the audience. And, indeed, there is a richness in the writing and the observations enshrined in it which can send one off in various directions, each an exploratory adventure. The plot has the inverted, topsy-turvy logic of the Theatre of the Absurd at its best.
This means, among other things, that it has real humour, striking the funnybone from different angles. The occasional expletive attracts the reprisals of the lighting man, deflected only by grovelling apology; here and there the open-ended plot is rewound to have a second go, but never with any real improvement. There is an oblique but effective way with laughter.
Harry Towb's Staines is masterful, a tour de force performance which lifts others like a rising tide. Ronan Leahy's McGregor partners him in a duo reminiscent of Vladimir and Estragon. Fedelma Cullen and Suzanne Robertson as the ladies in the wings and finally on-stage, and Charles Kelly's manager, are excellent in support. Director Gavin Quinn's baton solicits and gets the right harmonies from them all.
This intriguing play may be less than revolutionary, inviting certain comparisons as it does, albeit far from plagiarism. But, like its illustrious absurdist forebears, it is stimulating, laughter-inducing and thought-provoking. The excellent Pan Pan Theatre company has never been more inviting.
Plays until Saturday (booking at 01-6082461) prior to tour; then Watergate Theatre, Kilkenny, Tuesday and Wednesday; Droichid Arts Centre, Drogheda, September 30th; Mullingar Arts Centre, October 1st; Remor Theatre, Virginia, Co. Cavan, October 2nd; Everyman Palace, Cork, October 4th, 5th and 6th; Hawk's Well Theatre, Sligo, October 8th and 9th; Nun's Island, Galway, October 10th.
