Four Nights in the Green Barrow Pub is a mixed bag of a production.  

Kieran Craft’s Addams award winning script is delightful – very reminiscent of Love Actually with its whimsical, deft touch on some large themes that are embodied throughout by a diverse cast.

Sited in the extraordinarily wonderful top bar of JJ Murphy’s – arched wood ceiling, classic bar, intimate stage – it’s the perfect place to “sit back, grab a pint and enjoy the craic”. As we enter, the characters are happily at home playing scrabble and cards while the band plays behind them. It promises much.

It’s the good ol’ story of the stranger who arrives, disrupts the usual and leaves those he has touched changed, while being changed. Like any rom-com you can see what is going to happen a mile off and therein lies the charm of this script. In Craft’s hands, this simple story staple sings. The themes of otherness, outsider, acceptance and moving on with your own life are never shoved at you, or any of the other characters. Each step – the meeting, the longing, the first hesitant kiss, the argument, the reconciliation, and the ending – are fully written so that you cannot help but engage and feel genuinely happy for all involved.

Darragh, exquisitely played by Finlay Lanelaan, has inherited the family pub, along with its eccentricities and eccentric locals. His sister Aisling, a wry Aimee Sullivan, is a good foil and ‘truth-teller’ to her brother’s burden. A singer in the band – adroitly directed by Michael Stebbings – she has high wishes for her brother and his stuck-in-the-rut-life.

The locals – a strong Hilary Norris as Nuala and a larger-than-life Ralph Jonson as Glendon, her idjit, sometimes-pub-handyman husband, and a stoic Karen Anslow as Caitlin – present the local flavour. Kieran Craft and director Cassandra Tse straddle the line between archetype and the reality of Irish humour deftly: we always laugh with them, not at them. And there is plenty to laugh at.

The Folk On The Right Band – Musical Director Stebbings as Lorcan on Keys/Vocal, Cara (Emily Griffiths) on Fiddle, Mandolin/ Vocals, and Tom Whaley (Colm) on Guitar, Mandolin/ Vocals) – intersperse scenes with cracking numbers and haunting songs. It’s a good thing that Craft has not used this as an inter-scene device which would have become too much. They provide commentary, and also step into scenes to lather us in the warmth and hospitality that those who have been to a pub in Ireland know only too well.

I have two questions that do rub me up against the grain. With the majority of the cast costumed in good ol’ Irish earthy tones, it seems weird the Folk On The Right look like they’ve stepped off Cuba Street. The disparity constantly makes me see the characters’ costumes as ‘Irish costumes’ rather than clothes. On two occasions the band members (and one character) sing songs that are clearly not in the narrative of the play and feature as comment. Both times the band is separated from the action and come forth to perform for us, the audience, directly.

This direction and choreography seem strange; it’s as if Tse wants us to disconnect from the emotive work of the prior scenes, the aftereffects of which seem to carry on behind the performance. The effect of this feels like a missed opportunity. I do have to say they perform the best ‘Battle of Athenry’ I’ve ever heard! Sullivan and Anslows’ performance of ‘The Parting Glass’ is simply beautiful and stunningly haunting. A couple of times cast lyrics are lost due to the balance of sound, but for the most part it is utilised and pitched perfectly.

Into this warm-wooded hearth comes Arad – a wonderfully layered performance by Alex Rabina – here on business for the titular four nights: a wandering businessman who catches Darragh’s eye and possibly his heart. The Rabina and Langelaan scenes are gold. There is a touching delightfulness in their will-they / won’t-they romance, and what a romance it is. Often couples on stage can feel forced due to the requirements of the script but that is definitely not the case here. Langelaan and Rabina’s simplicity, honesty and vulnerability create one of the best relationships I’ve seen on a Wellington stage since I arrived here four years ago. Certainly, Rabina’s performance of Arad’s song is worth the price of admission alone. He steals the show, or would have if he were not such a generous actor. Written by Lochana Wijesundra, the song is simply incredible and heartfelt.

The accents are generally perfect. (A declaration is in order here – Accent Coach Hilary Norris is an old friend who also knows I wouldn’t hold back if things were amiss.) Langelaan’s fluidic rhythms especially wring every wry piece of comedy and emotion so lightly. It’s good to hear Rabina’s natural accent in the mix – it serves well to add to his ‘otherness’. I take my hat off to Sullivan and Norris’s decision to add a little Northern Irish to Aisling. It’s a technical quirk that adds to her own outsider story and speaks (pun intended) to her own travels away from her home. 

On opening night words are often lost, not just to the downstairs pub noise (in a site-specific performance like this I’ll never complain of someone being too loud rather than not hearing the words you’ve worked so hard on) but to swallowed consonants and energy not travelling to the end of sentences. And some diction leaves a lot to be desired.

Cassandra Tse’s direction, for the most part, appropriately keeps out of the way of the story. There is no flummery in an effort to ‘create’ something (well, possibly apart from the staging of the before mentioned songs). It’s a pub, so people do pub things. The characters are real and heartfelt and Tse let’s Craft’s script work as it should. However, I do have two problems with Tse’s direction.

In an effort to keep these characters normal and real, a lot of moments are flat-lined. I’m not looking for histrionics but I feel the performance levels veer away from any stakes, in an effort to avoid this being a polemic about ethnicity or sexuality. It’s not so much Love Actually as Like Possibly. Action and dialogue lead up to moments, but a lot of times these moments aren’t honoured and the cast looks like they are moving onto the next part of the scene without truly owning the emotions. The cumulative effect of this is that this could be a great production but will only be a good production.  

I’m also going to call out the dumbest bit of direction I’ve seen in my last four years in Wellington. Rabina and Langelaan perform a subtle, wonderful and touching scene which is situated on the floor. On speaking with a number of audience members post-show I’d say three-quarters couldn’t see it (even with slightly raised back rows where I was) and half couldn’t hear it. I watched a shoulder and heard most of it, I think. If you’re going to go, grab a front row seat for god’s sake. With a rookie director I’d be happy to talk directly to them straight after the play, there are easy fixes for it, but with someone who’s been directing for a while this is frighteningly inexplicable, and an incredible disservice to actors and audience alike.

So, as I say, a mixed bag.

This is a wonderful production of a beautiful script except for the faults that stop it being great. That being said you should go and see this perfectly-sited gem.

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