‘The Weir’ Review: A Few Pints to Help the Ghost Stories Go Down Easy
Conor McPherson’s eerie 1997 drama, set in a rural Ireland of near-empty pubs and howling winds, returns to Irish Rep in top form.There’s hardly a better escape from the city’s heat right now than the Irish Repertory Theater’s excellent staging of “The Weir,” its fourth since 2013. The company’s intimate Chelsea space is blissfully air-conditioned, and Conor McPherson’s eerie 1997 drama, set in a rural Ireland of near-empty pubs and howling winds, is appropriately chilly.The production’s entire creative team, along with some of the cast, are return players, but there’s not a whiff of trotting out the same old. Instead, they render the play’s talkative yarns as heartily as a few rounds with old friends. That sense of familiarity (and the awareness that they are such close-knit revivers) even helps the play, which is essentially a hangout piece with a hazy supernatural charge.Its tight 90 minutes track an evening at a pub owned by the 30-something Brendan (Johnny Hopkins), and frequented by the older Jack (Dan Butler) and Jim (John Keating). How regular are their visits? Jack’s first move onstage, one he often repeats, is to breeze behind the bar to pour himself a pint.Unlike his also-unmarried patrons, and as played by Hopkins with homey charm, Brendan seems content with his mundane lot but is not yet resigned to it. There’s a kinship, then, with the recently arrived Valerie (Sarah Street), who’s being shown around town by Finbar (Sean Gormley), an older gent with a self-conscious Ian Fleming style.The men’s hospitality, as they fill Valerie in on the area’s lore, gradually turns into a series of ghost tales. Through offhand conversational cues (“What was the story with…?” or “Where was that?”), McPherson is skilled at making reminiscences’ jump into communal folklore feel both inevitable and necessary.It’s typical campfire fodder — frightened widows and apparitions — and each story can be waved away, chalked up to nerves or having had one too many. But neither McPherson, nor the director Ciarán O’Reilly, leans on obvious spooks, though the production’s lighting (by Michael Gottlieb) and sound design (by Drew Levy) supply the requisite dimming lights and stormy hums.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More