In the Name Of The Son 🪶 A Haunting, Redemptive Journey

Cam Ogie 🕋 In the Name of the Son, written by Richard O’Rawe and Martin Lynch (political poles of opposite attraction!) and directed by Tony Devlin, makes a powerful return to Belfast’s Lyric Theatre (running 19–31 August 2025).

This one-man show performed by Shaun Blaney unfolds as a raw, emotionally charged portrait of Gerry Conlon’s life after his release—far from the closure one might expect, his freedom becomes the catalyst for a far darker descent.

From the moment Conlon is freed, it becomes clear that the liberation is bittersweet. The death of his father, Giuseppe—who travelled to London to support his son’s defence only to be arrested himself and die in custody—hangs over Conlon like a shadow that never lifts. Conlon is consumed by a guilt that crushes him with relentless force. The death of Giuseppe becomes a torment that gnaws at his very soul—a shackle, an unyielding burden that suffocates every attempt at peace, devouring him from within. It is a guilt so brutal that it feels like a life sentence of its own. Blaney’s portrayal is not merely haunted by grief but ravaged by a merciless remorse—as if Conlon himself had delivered his father to prison and to death, and every breath of his own freedom feels stolen from Giuseppe’s grave.

Suddenly thrust into celebrity circles, Conlon rubs shoulders with Hollywood elite and Microsoft-worthy compensation checks—yet nothing soothes the grief. The narrative captures the devastating spiral: from celebrated campaigner to crack-cocaine addict living on the streets and rummaging through London bins for food. That juxtaposition—public acclaim and private devastation—is delivered with brutal clarity.

Blaney's direct and impactful performance is virtually one‑man theatrical alchemy. Critics describe it as a “tour de force one‑man performance” and “raw … beautifully written, insightful and carefully produced”. He inhabits each persona—from Daniel Day‑Lewis to Johnny Depp, Jim Sheridan to his own mother—with a dazzling economy of movement and emotion.

CultureCrush NI recalls, “Blaney doesn’t rely on multiple costume changes … he simply ducks behind the partition and pops up as another character”.

What saves the play from overwhelming despair is its sharp, unpredictable humour. Laughter punctures the darkness: Conlon in an Oscar toilet scene, wild anecdotes with celebrities, and surreal one-liners—such as arguing with Sheridan about not even being in the same cell—small comic sparks that humanize the anguish.

Set design remains austere: just a walkway, a stool, a column—which Blaney transforms magically into cells, courtrooms, and airplanes. Strategic lighting and evocative music choices—from Springsteen’s Born to Run to the Waterboys’ Whole of the Moon—underscore the emotional roller‑coaster.

In the play’s final act, Conlon finds a kind of peace through caregiving—returning to Belfast to care for his aging mother, redeeming himself through intimacy, humility, and acknowledgement of his past. “Here’s me, a man in his 50s and only looking after me ma,” he admits, bringing his arc back to the heart of his story.

In the Name of the Son is more than a biographical play—it’s a searing meditation on freedom, guilt, and salvation. Gerry Conlon returns home not simply to a stage or society, but to himself. Tony Devlin’s direction and Shaun Blaney’s visceral performance elevate the material to an experience that’s at once heart-wrenching, electrifying, and ultimately uplifting. This production confirms itself as one of the most moving, masterfully executed pieces in recent Belfast theatre.

By the final, shattering moments, Blaney leaves the audience breathless; the standing ovation he receives is not merely deserved but inevitable.

⏩ Cam Ogie is a Gaelic games enthusiast.