Dark drama still haunts after the curtain falls
Saturday September 30 2006
Not that they are ever required to come to anyone's rescue. Theirs, after all, is the most decrepit stretch of sand in Ireland.To keep themselves sane, Howie takes potshots at cattle and JJ brags about his spell as a US surfer dude. That's when they're not fantasising about landing a lifeguard's job at nearby Banna Beach, to which hordes of semi-clad German tourists are said to flock.
In Bridget O'Connor's bleak comedy, two distinct genres join awkwardly at the hip. At times, The Flags feels like rural gothic: Howie and JJ speak in weird Beckettian cadences, their patter littered with strange constructions.
The audience is expected to believe these cartoonish creations harbour real fears and desires. Particularly jarring is the contrast between Jamie Beamish's two-dimensionally psychotic Howie and Francis Magee's JJ, a sharply observed bundle of regrets.
O'Connor plumbs eventually for gothic farce. This is made clear by Siobhan McSweeney's haunting turn. As drama, The Flags does not persuade. But its darkness lingers long after the curtain has fallen.
ED POWER
- The Flags
