Guest writer Ricky O’Rawe with a review of Belfast playwright Pearse Elliot's latest production.




As a rule, I do not like one-person plays; the dialogue is usually laboured, clichéd, and rarely works (I walked out of Shirley Valentine and Hurricane). Also, I have never been able to fully expunge the idea that this minimalist approach has more to do with making money than with saying something important, or providing quality entertainment.

So, I was sceptical about Pearse Elliott’s The Man in the Moon. A one-person play about suicide? Jaysus! Had it come to this? Then: who would even want to write a one-person play about suicide? Next: how the hell will Elliott hold his audience?

The play itself is set against the backdrop of the Half-Moon Lake in West Belfast, a place of ‘otters and salmon’ – and the occasional suicide – thence the title, The Man in the Moon. Sean Doran (masterfully played by Ciaran Nolan) is a young working-class man who reflects on his life and the characters with whom he grew up. He recalls his gang ‘stroking’/conning the local scrap-metal dealer by inflating the price of wooden pallets. Then, he and his brother are in London and lift the wrong leather jacket in a bar. Luckily for them, the jacket contains two red-carpet tickets to the premier of Brad Pitt’s latest movie. Brad is cool when he has a bit of craic with the two boys at the after-party (but then, Brad wears Levis’). Interspersed with these and other hilarious anecdotes of life in West Belfast, there are poignant moments of reflection, of disappearing characters who took their own lives.

There are defects in this play, as there are in all plays. One defect is that the language is very crude. Some people laugh every time they hear an actor utter the word ‘fuck’ in a play. Amazing, really; you would be forgiven for thinking they never heard ‘fuck’ in their real lives (for what it’s worth, the best play I have watched in recent years was Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest in the Lyric Theatre, and there wasn’t a ‘fuck’ in it). Another criticism is that The Man in the Moon is very parochial in its concept and execution. Perhaps that’s the way the writer wanted it, but it is difficult to see this play travelling beyond Belfast. That begs the question: was there an opportunity missed here?

So, did The Man in the Moon work? Yes, it did. It is a duty of serious writers to inform and to entertain. Pearse Elliott did both; he has pulled it off. Quite a feat. If I were going out for a night on the town, I’d start with The Man in the Moon. After that? Take a walk on the wild side. Or don’t.

The Man in the Moon

Guest writer Ricky O’Rawe with a review of Belfast playwright Pearse Elliot's latest production.




As a rule, I do not like one-person plays; the dialogue is usually laboured, clichéd, and rarely works (I walked out of Shirley Valentine and Hurricane). Also, I have never been able to fully expunge the idea that this minimalist approach has more to do with making money than with saying something important, or providing quality entertainment.

So, I was sceptical about Pearse Elliott’s The Man in the Moon. A one-person play about suicide? Jaysus! Had it come to this? Then: who would even want to write a one-person play about suicide? Next: how the hell will Elliott hold his audience?

The play itself is set against the backdrop of the Half-Moon Lake in West Belfast, a place of ‘otters and salmon’ – and the occasional suicide – thence the title, The Man in the Moon. Sean Doran (masterfully played by Ciaran Nolan) is a young working-class man who reflects on his life and the characters with whom he grew up. He recalls his gang ‘stroking’/conning the local scrap-metal dealer by inflating the price of wooden pallets. Then, he and his brother are in London and lift the wrong leather jacket in a bar. Luckily for them, the jacket contains two red-carpet tickets to the premier of Brad Pitt’s latest movie. Brad is cool when he has a bit of craic with the two boys at the after-party (but then, Brad wears Levis’). Interspersed with these and other hilarious anecdotes of life in West Belfast, there are poignant moments of reflection, of disappearing characters who took their own lives.

There are defects in this play, as there are in all plays. One defect is that the language is very crude. Some people laugh every time they hear an actor utter the word ‘fuck’ in a play. Amazing, really; you would be forgiven for thinking they never heard ‘fuck’ in their real lives (for what it’s worth, the best play I have watched in recent years was Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest in the Lyric Theatre, and there wasn’t a ‘fuck’ in it). Another criticism is that The Man in the Moon is very parochial in its concept and execution. Perhaps that’s the way the writer wanted it, but it is difficult to see this play travelling beyond Belfast. That begs the question: was there an opportunity missed here?

So, did The Man in the Moon work? Yes, it did. It is a duty of serious writers to inform and to entertain. Pearse Elliott did both; he has pulled it off. Quite a feat. If I were going out for a night on the town, I’d start with The Man in the Moon. After that? Take a walk on the wild side. Or don’t.

5 comments:

  1. One of the best plays I ever seen was a one woman play. Carmel mcCallum from Derry brought her one woman portrayal of an alcoholic to Belfast and she was brilliant.
    Another great one coming from a complete different dimension was ' A Night with George'
    I would say a play about suicide would be a worthy project , put together with great sensitivity and talent no doubt.

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  2. I should have said Carmel mcCallion sister of another great Derry woman Nell mc Cafferty.

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  3. An excellent review and seems to recount experiences that a lot of us can relate to ,certainly seems to be a play worth attending,even if it was only written by a man.p.s the half moon lake in Lenadoon was a great spot for swimming in the 60,s though I lost a few friends who drowned there.

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