Set in one location in real time, The Weir is the kind of interior, Irish-to-its-chilly-bones piece at which Keegan Theatre excels.”
Under the direction of Mark A. Rhea, the cast all scale their performances appropriately. The comfort and the contempt arising from their lives of small-town proximity registers.
As Jack, Kevin Adams seems to resent both the enterprising Finbar’s success and the retiring Jim’s meekness in more or less equal measure, all of it a mask for his disappointment in himself.
Townson is an affable presence, as bartenders should be. “Will you have one?” his patrons always ask when placing an order. “I’m debating whether to have one,” comes the inevitable reply. As Valerie, a still-young woman reeling from the kind of loss that ages you, Susan Marie Rhea manages to convey dual cravings for privacy and connection.
This is a story about the importance of stories, about how the ritual of narrative can make sadness and loneliness and disappointment bearable.
In a world of mysterious happenings that beggar explanation, this is one inexplicable phenomena that turns out to be as reliable as the tides.
Ultimately, it’s the stories that involve otherworldly encounters the least that haunt their tellers the most.
