Review: THE WEIR, Harold Pinter Theatre
Photo credit: Rich Gilligan
First staged in 1997 when writer Conor McPherson was just 25, The Weir is a love letter to the supernatural and the art of storytelling. Now playing at the Harold Pinter Theatre, with McPherson directing and Brendan Gleeson making his stage debut at the age of 70, this revival of The Weir feels especially poignant.
Set in rural Ireland, Rae Smith’s set and costume design transports us to the inside of a tiny pub frequented by old friends who grew up together in the surrounding areas. It’s a cold, blustery evening, and we can hear the wind whistle through the windows as talk of a newcomer to the area is the topic of conversation between Jack (Gleeson) and pub owner Brendan (Owen McDonnell). Everyone knows everyone in these parts, and this is an area where people either grow up and leave for the city or remain to stay the course of a lifetime; few choose to make the move to these Irish outskirts.
The introduction of Valerie (Kate Phillips), a young woman from Dublin, transforms a routine drinking session by the fire into a gripping evening of swapping stories and unearthing once-buried memories. McPherson’s story taps into the mystique of traditional Irish folklore, and a casual mention of an ancient ‘fairy road’ running through the town sparks in-depth conversations of ‘the otherworld’, each revelation more unsettling than the last. Just when we think we are heading into thriller territory, McPherson’s script throws in balancing doses of comedy to break the tension and every recounting of a memory is peppered with vulnerability. The cosy pub serves as a safe space for characters to slowly reveal the layers of their past.
Gleeson’s stellar performance is everything you’d expect it to be and more in his grounding portrayal of a weary Irishman; behind his character’s stoicism and sharp wit are stories of loneliness and regret. Still, the show’s success truly lies in its strength as an ensemble piece. The energetic enthusiasm of Finbar (Tom Vaughan-Lawlor) gives an air of showmanship whilst remaining endearingly insecure in his desire to impress his friends and Valerie. This restless energy complements the pensive stillness of Seán McGinley’s portrayal of Jim, who has impeccable comedic timing in delivering his one-liners. His story is the more long-winded yet most chilling of them all, and McGinley’s ability to stir up emotion from unexpected moments is understated yet mesmerising.
Kate Phillips as Valerie is initially a sounding board for the men’s tall tales, amused and receptive, but as the play progresses, we see that she is actually gathering the courage to tell a traumatic story of her own. Even though she is a woman, much younger than her male counterparts and an outsider from the city, a wholesome and enduring bond forms between the characters on that cold and windy night.
The Weir is a masterclass in storytelling, shining a light on the connections that can be made with others when you hold space for these stories to be heard.
***** Five stars
Reviewed by: Chess Hayden
The Weir plays at London’s Harold Pinter until 6 December, with tickets available here.
