The Dublin run of this Broadway-bound production is already sold out, doubtless thanks to the casting of Ralph Fiennes in the title role of Frank Hardy. But the success of Jonathan Kent's masterful show lies in its acknowledgement that Brian Friel's 1979 play is not a star vehicle, but rather a strange and daring experiment in stripped-down theatrical storytelling, which relies on the combined power of all three of its monologuing performers, on Friel's brilliantly evocative language, and on audiences themselves to piece together contradictory accounts of the same events. The production's energies fully coalesce with Ian McDiarmid's supremely confident turn as the Cockney manager Teddy, and the contrast of his tragi-comic account of events with Fiennes' powerful, doom-laden intensity.
Frank, the first to speak, describes his work driving around the seedy town halls of Scotland and Wales with Teddy and his wife Grace, trying to silence "the questions that undermined my life" by healing the sick and lame. He, in other words, is the self-doubting, charismatic artist, who feeds on the attention of others but cannot escape his narcissistic death drive. Fiennes is mesmerising, exploiting the conversational quality of Friel's writing to draw the audience in. Overall, though, his performance feels slightly underplayed, with the character's passion and rage only flaring sporadically. Without more heat from Fiennes it is hard to make sense of the power Frank holds over others.
The production's weak link is Ingrid Craigie, in what is, granted, the play's thinnest character. Drinking and smoking in a London bedsit, Grace lives completely in the past, tortured by memories of Frank and of her stillborn child. While Fiennes and McDiarmid perform with total physical and emotional commitment, Craigie's performance seems locked in her head.
The tone shifts utterly with McDiarmid's arrival; he commands the role he played once before, in Kent's 2001 Almeida production. His 30 minutes on stage trace a complete dramatic arc on their own, as Teddy, spivvily resplendent in a faded smoking jacket, lays down his professional law - relations with clients should be "strictly business only" - and then reveals how, devastatingly, he broke his own rules in his devotion to Frank and Grace.
In his second appearance, Fiennes extends the spell cast by McDiarmid, finally narrating the hinted-at story of his final attempt at his craft. There is a terrible yet uplifting energy as he speaks his last words, walking slowly towards the audience.
In that moment, the evanescent theatrical magic that is the play's obsessive subject becomes real.
· Until April 1. Box office: (353 1) 874 4045.
