Mary Leland reviews Father Mathew at the Half Moon Theatre in Cork; Gerry Colgan reviews Life Shop Till You Drop at Bewley's Cafe Theatre in Dublin and Sorcha Hamilton reviews Ray Lamontagne at the National Stadium in Dublin.

Father Mathew,
Half Moon Theatre,
Cork,

There are many ways of assessing the merit of a new play but if the number of people standing afterwards in teeming rain arguing about its accuracy, insights or assumptions seems an acceptable measurement, then Sean McCarthy's Father Mathew is very meritorious indeed.

This is a terrific piece of drama, with a strong narrative drive, visionary directing and brilliant performances.

Theobald Mathew entered the Capuchin friary in a poor parish in early 19th-century Cork. When invited to join a Quaker-led crusade against the plague of drunkenness in the community it became his mission to such an extent that he is still known as the Apostle of Temperence.

He commanded monster meetings in the style of O'Connell; he became an international talisman of total abstinence, attracting campaign funds from local brewers and distillers and causing political anxiety among Ireland's vintners. The statue erected by a grateful public in Cork is one of the city's two iconic landmarks: the other is Shandon, burial place of Mathew's loyal friend, Fr Prout.

Prout may not have been the ideal supporter, but Fr Mathew needed all the help he could get. According to McCarthy, in the end he got it from laudanum.

So is this a Cork play? Not at all. It might be wondered even if it is a play about Fr Mathew. Its main theme is the demon drink, wonderfully personified by Carl Kennedy as the priest's seductive alter ego. Mathew could drink like a gentleman, according to his secretary (here played by Liam Heffernan to represent the watchful public eye), and as he sweeps from sermons to soirees he is never very far from brandy.

Eventually Mathew takes the pledge, only to find that he is beset by financial difficulties resulting from his recklessly generous nature and his inability to manage his affairs. McCarthy has filled in the biographical gaps with material to suit his theme, and the quality both of invention and of writing is such that the occasional irritating inaccuracy - although easily repaired - cannot deflect the play's force, style and psychological possibilities.

Some things are missing, such as any sense of a habitual prayer life which might have been expected from such an evangelical personality. Or a suggestion that as the priest grows older he might have grown a little wiser. But it doesn't matter. There is a great human charm in the Fr Mathew of Malcolm Adams, a great sadness, a great conviction.

Yew Tree Theatre's director John Breen has achieved a remarkable, relishable piece of theatre here, working with Marcus Costello's steel-caged set where, in a lovely little reference, Mathew's refusal in America to condemn slavery has him sink into a posture poignantly reminiscent of Lincoln's Washington memorial. It's that kind of play: visual, agile, almost extreme, distinguished by its clever, forceful script and by three players at the top of their form. No wonder we got so wet.

Until Jan 26

Mary Leland

Life Shop Till You Drop,
Bewley's Cafe Theatre,
Dublin
This one-hour lunchtime play, written and directed by Alice Coghlan, gets off to a neat start. A vivacious 36-year-old woman in the audience leaps to her feet to receive an award - Tatler Woman of the Year. She is impelled to share the story of her success, and begins a year earlier when she identified two objectives: to get married and get promoted.

Ailish is riddled with intellectual and verbal cliches, such as "think with ink" - writing them down will help us to remember her pearls of wisdom. For the matrimonial stakes, she goes to a modern matchmaker, who fixes her up with dubious partners. Ailish learns that she has to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince. On the job front, she is hired by a recruitment consultancy firm, which demands that you recruit more employees and keep doubling up to make any money. But it gives her a nice title to peddle to men at the dating agencies as she pursues her rules in shopping for life's rewards. We follow Ailish through increasingly desperate initiatives until the play ends as it began, with a surprise.

It seems that the self-help industry is a now a commercial reality, generating huge profits from the inchoate desires of people to be happy and successful. This gives the play a satirical edge, although its exaggerations are rooted in farce. Clodagh Reid plays Ailish with comic versatility, generating continuous laughter. The play could use some trimming, but is still enjoyably entertaining.

Runs to Feb 3

Gerry Colgan

Ray Lamontagne,
The National Stadium,
Dublin
 Ray Lamontagne doesn't like to talk - or so we all thought until Wednesday night. Famous for being a highly introverted singer-songwriter, Lamontagne was surprisingly chatty during his Dublin gig. He repeatedly thanked the crowd, told a few stories and even confessed that he tried to write a happy song once, "but it just depressed me."

While there's no doubting Lamontagne has a somewhat awkward stage presence, his humble nature is part of what's so likeable about him. It's also one of the reasons he can get away with lyrics like "you're the best thing that ever happened to me" - and make them heartfelt.

But it's Lamontagne's voice that is his star quality. Sliding from soft to gravelly, at times his voice is so powerful it sounds like a pained, lovelorn howl when you hear it live. With lyrics about love lost, or relationships he messed up, Lamontagne mostly sings moody, folksy ballads. In You Can Bring Me Flowers or Three More Days he throws in some great bluesy riffs with gently rolling drums.

Accompanied by bass, drums and pedal steel, Lamontagne played a range of tunes from his latest album Till the Sun Turns Black, and old favourites Trouble and Shelter. The highlight was a beautiful, quiet number that Lamontagne crooned to the crowd: "shall we call this a lesson learned?" After prolonged cheering, Lamontagne returned for an encore and sang Jolene: "I found myself face down in the ditch, booze in my hair, blood on my lips. A picture of you, holding a picture of me, in the pocket of my blue jeans."

Towards the end Lamontagne described how a woman once threw an apple at him on stage. Then she threw up her boot, her bra, until eventually she jumped up beside him. "So this sexy girl comes up on stage, and what do I do?" he asks the crowd. "I stop playing, I just stare at her until the security guy takes her away - I should have let her dance, shook her hand or something, maybe given her a kiss." With a voice like his, no doubt there'll be plenty opportunities yet.

Sorcha Hamilton