"You don't need to know the words: hear the sounds." So says the "dynamatologist", who has been asked to help a burnt-out Irish property developer in Tom Murphy's play. The developer craves more: to sing like Italian opera singer Beniamino Gigli, and his quest takes him into "an abyss of darkness". In Garry Hynes's staging, this metaphysical epic from 1983 retains its freshness, capturing the ruefulness of our current political mood. After years of corruption and shady dealing, the Irish Man questions the value of his achievement.
His companion in confusion, the "dynamatologist", is JPW King, a quack therapist from England, and another lost soul. Throughout their heated dialogues the men's roles slip and reverse. Their encounter is distorted by self-delusion and alcohol. Peter Sullivan's understatement as King compels attention in this intimate space, while Denis Conway's rage and grief as the Irish Man is not so easily contained. His performance, and the sound and lighting effects, pull against the show's quiet realism at times. Mostly, though, the direction sensitively serves the text, as it builds from "the audacity of despair" to emotional release, with some knowingly melodramatic flourishes. When the married woman who offers love to King exits to die of cancer, we are in the realm of the mythic – although Eileen Walsh grounds her character with an emotional depth that almost makes her credible.
With its emphasis on the process of creation, the play anticipates the direction taken by theatre recently, in which the performance becomes the subject. Yet it goes well beyond a self-reflexive exercise, speaking to everyone who has yearned to be more than they are. Here, infinite possibilities are within reach.
