Six years ago, Marie Jones hit the big time with Stones in His Pockets, in which the arrival of a Hollywood film crew brings all the tensions of a Kerry town to the surface. This new play employs a similar strategy, using reality TV; the problem is that Jones has layered on loads of other plot strands, cultural forms, and cheap Irish stereotypes without ever really defining a clear and engaging story.
Enda O'Loan, a Belfast beach bum in Australia, discovers he has inherited a crumbling manor in the Irish boglands. Jones does not then deliver a play about Enda arriving at Nutt Manor and figuring out that it's falling apart and that he needs money fast; Enda cops that instantly, and heads to Ireland with an Aussie TV crew to make a reality programme about turning the manor into a luxury hotel.
So far, so high concept, but Jones loses control of the play when we meet Enda's staff, who reveal that their lives are structured by a seething rivalry with the inhabitants of the next tiny town - over amateur drama. Huh? Enda's Aussie producer decides to film the staff rehearsing their play, Murder at Nutt Manor, and convince the TV viewers that it is real life. What?
When the best laugh a comedy provides is the wonderful actor Dan Gordon blowing a balloon up with his arse, you know you've descended to the lower ranks of dramaturgical hell. This is a big silly mess.
· Until July 9. Box office: 02890 381 081.
