Horror, psychology unite

Friends, lovers and well-wishers are out in force; the critics are meeting each other at every turn, but where are the "real" …

Friends, lovers and well-wishers are out in force; the critics are meeting each other at every turn, but where are the "real" audience members? A week into the Fringe and turnouts are distinctly underwhelming, despite the calibre of the work on offer.

The short runs of many of the first week's shows means that word of mouth has little time to gather force before their runs finish.

Tonight is the last chance to see one of the best-known of the Jacobean tragedies, The Changeling, (The Crypt, Dublin Castle). Rattle Bag Theatre Company is newly formed but under the experienced direction of Joe Devlin, its members brought clarity and conviction to Middleton and Rowley's early 17th-century drama of murder, ambition, blackmail, desire and deception.

Less of a blood bath (relatively) than other Jacobean tragedies, and sprinkled with black humour, it focuses on the psychological development of its central characters, the noblewoman Beatrice (Helena Walsh) and the Iago-like servant, De Flores (Sean Whelan) whose services she employs as a murderer, while wishing to be spared the consequences of her crime.

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De Flores's insistence on exacting his payment in sexual terms effects the gradual transformation in Joanna from loathing of him to desire and mesmerised admiration, while he grows in stature from squirming servility to dominance.

Simply staged with some late 20th-century touches - doublebreasted suits and mobile phones - but avoiding the obvious route of a noir or Tarantinoesque interpretation, this production is resonantly contemporary.

Also in The Crypt and running until next Saturday (October 10th) is a new play written and directed by Andrew Hinds, in a co-production between his company, Open House, and Iomha Ildanach.

A one-man show, constructed in two parts that mirror each other, this lyrical evocation of the sustaining power of love is set during, and shortly after, the Siege of Derry in 1689.

While there are many acute observations on the social and psychological roots of sectarianism, the historical moment is a backdrop rather than the focus of this drama. Hinds is exploring the way personal stories intersect with the "objective" world of events, which are experienced through a cloud of incomprehension and helplessness.

In a gripping performance by Conleth Hill, a Yorkshire cobbler who has been imprisoned as a spy reveals his motivation for breaching the city walls: to steal a meeting with Peter, the man he loves.

Married to a Catholic and the father of two children, he recalls the way this secret love crept into his life, unbidden, and the guilt and conflict it engendered.

The second monologue (also performed by Hill) tells the story of the cobbler from the perspective of another character: a rising Protestant merchant, a proud Ulsterman and anti-Papist, who witnessed the cobbler's saint-like death at the gallows where he confessed his love and disowned all sectarian allegiance.

This man also loved the dead Peter, but the memory of this unrequited passion and jealousy of the cobbler poison his prosperous life, and bring no peace to his endless, lonely evenings.

These two characters, utterly different in circumstance, are bound by their love of the dead man, which brings sustenance and courage to one and torment to the other.

While the first monologue could be trimmed considerably, the second half of this vividly written play is by far the more compelling, as the layers of interconnection are revealed the complexity of the merchant's character both attracts and repels us.

Things are also more complex than they first appear in Arthur Miller's one-act play, I Can't Remember Anything, directed by Bevya Rosten (lunchtime, Andrew's Lane, ending today), which is a perceptive, unsentimental portrayal of the consolation - and burden - of memory, and the sadness of old age.

Rebecca Schull gives a superb performance as the beautiful, restless Leonara, recently widowed after 45 years of marriage and feeling utterly useless.

The Fringe Information office is in Arthouse, Curved Street, Temple Bar. The Fringe phone number is 01-6056833, and information is available on these websites: www.fringefest.com and www.dkm.ie/events