News for North Texas
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

"The Weir": A Theater Review

By Tom Sime

Dallas, TX – ?The Weir? is one of the few plays I've seen both locally and in New York. Conor McPherson's drama about a group of friends telling ghost stories was superb off-Broadway, but in many ways the intimate Allied Theatre Group production now at Stage West is even better.

Whether or not it's because the play itself deepens with repetition, Director Jerry Russell's version in Fort Worth's converted movie theatre is a spellbinding slice of life on a dark Irish night. On second viewing, one knows better what to expect: no jump-out-of-your seat scares, no ?Sixth Sense? surprise endings. Instead, the writer lets his tales of the supernatural rise gradually from ordinary conversation, adding depth and illumination to the humdrum lives of the characters. The result is a sort of anthology of spooky stories, with each drinker at the pub taking a turn at topping the others.

Jim Covault plays Jack, fifty-something owner of a car repair garage in rural Ireland. He stops in, as usual, at the pub owned by Brendan, played by Jakie Cabe. Jack's helper, Jim, played by Joe Alberti, joins his boss soon after. Brendan tells Jack and Jim about a woman on her own who's moving into a long-deserted house nearby, which piques interest all around; the men are all single and palpably lonely. The real estate agent who's showing the newcomer around is Finbar, a married businessman played by R. Bruce Elliott. The smug, wealthy Finbar gets on the others' nerves, especially since he's squiring the only female for miles. But, Valerie proves to be a pretty and friendly young woman, played by Holly Hickman. Valerie fits in nicely, even if she does throw the ale-swilling men for a loop by requesting white wine. As part of the collective courtship, local lore comes into the conversation. It turns out that Valerie's new house sits astride a "fairy road," which leads to a story from Jack about a creepy night experienced by the former residents.

INSERT FROM PLAY

Jack: ?Later on, when the others are all out, it was just her and her mother sittin? at the fire. And her mother was very quiet. Normally she?d send Moira up to bed early enough like, but Moira said she remembered this night because Bridey didn?t send her up. She wanted someone with her, ya see. And in those days, Valerie, as ya know, there was no electricity out here, and there?s no dark like a winter night in the country. And there was a wind like this one tonight, howlin? and whistlin? in off the sea. Ya hear it under the door and it?s like someone singin?. Singin? in under the door at ya. It was this type of night now. Am I settin? the scene for ya??

One by one, the others tell stories, too. But Valerie's tale, when it comes, raises the stakes when it proves both unnerving and heartbreaking. It's a strangely effective ritual purging, this round of stories, told simply and without embellishment, though Mr. Russell does see to it that the lights grow slightly dimmer as the stories get scarier. Ultimately, the scariest thing of all proves to be loneliness, a fact that's driven home in Jack's final story about how he almost got married, but weasled out of it and let her go, to his momentary relief and endless regret. Now, like Valerie, he's got a haunting that'll never leave him. And the unexpected emotional pull of ?The Weir? is likely to linger with the rest of us.