Berkshire Theatre Group in Stockbridge
Written by Conor McPherson, directed by Eric Hill
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
“The Weir” refers to a hydroelectric dam, built on a local waterway near the pub where this play is set. The dam has only a brief reference to the water pressure in the bar. But it is the word itself, with its sound, so close to the word weird, that makes a difference. Three older Irishmen who congregate in the pub tell a newcomer ghost stories about the house she has moved into and about their own experiences with the weird aspects of their lives. Their openness allows her to tell her own “weird” story, about her daughter’s death and her marriage. The stories are all interesting and illuminating about the men themselves. Brendan, the barkeep, doesn’t have much to add, but his calming presence signals hope and possibility in the future life of Valerie, the newcomer. The play is oddly romantic and basically a means to tell stories that might not otherwise figure into a play.
While the play’s action is rather static, its emotional impact steadily grows through Valerie’s personal story, after which it slowly slides into an oblivion that is startling. Finbar’s (Harry Smith) second and more personal tale is anticlimactic, though the actor tells it well. Eric Hill’s direction of the play keeps it commonplace and ordinary, denying Valerie (Stephanie Jean Lane) the difficulty in relating her truly emotional story. This should be the highlight of the play, a chance for her character to emerge from the crowd; instead, she becomes just one more storyteller in a play about stories.
The cast, under the vocal charge of dialect coach Jennifer Scapetis, bring us very genuine rural Irishmen, which is all to the good. Their deep accents cause us to listen very carefully to every word spoken, and playwright Conor McPherson uses a load of local slang in this play.
Harry Smith’s Finbar, the more sophisticated man, does an excellent job. He is easy to understand and fascinating to watch as his sitting position tells a story all its own about the man. Sean Bridges’ Jack is dynamic and compelling as he tells his ghost story. Joey Collins’ Jim spends most of his time distracting the others, and he does it with small glasses of beer and a style that reminds us of Barry Fitzgerald and other Irish actors of the 1940s.
Philip Themio Stoddard displays a sweet nature that is as compelling as his pretty face and his character’s charm. He seems to genuinely like Valerie, where the others see her as a person who will find their stories to be of interest. For all of the play’s well-written interactions, there is no romance, except for Brandon’s late interest in the woman in his bar.
Lane’s Valerie is the most compelling character as she says very little until she tells her story. I wish she had a slight sense of hesitation about relating the incidents of her tragic tale, but Hill has, instead, given her a compulsive nature at this point in the play. It is all very weir-d.
The excellent set, designed by Randall Parsons, gives us a feeling of actually being there, and the lighting designed by Matthew E. Adelson is perfect for the telling of ghost stories. Amy Avila’s costumes are perfect. As sound designer Scott Killian maintains his wind storm throughout the play, this atmosphere keeps the show grounded in its intensity, something the play needs from first to last.
“The Weir” is fascinating in its hour-and-45-minute, one-act format. Time does fly by, and that is a good thing. Storytelling is an art form that the Irish have perfected, and McPherson’s play takes deep advantage of that. This production requires your attention. You may find yourself leaning forward a lot, in order to take in every word. Ultimately, it is worth the trouble to watch a new relationship develop its shallow outset. That alone is something different and worthwhile.
“The Weir” plays at Berkshire Theatre Group’s Unicorn Theatre, on Route 7 in Stockbridge, through October 27. For information and tickets, visit Berkshire Theatre Group’s website or call (413) 997-4444.
