LIFFEY LAUGHS HEAD SOUTH
I didn't believe actress Vogue Wilson when she insisted that her role in the reality TV show Fade Street wasn't scripted. But after enduring her performance in Blow up the Liffey Bridges last night, I finally do. Let's just say she shouldn't quit the catwalk.
We were a mere five minutes into this spectacle of ridiculousness when my plus-one nudged me and grunted: "you owe me." I couldn't blame him.
After 10 minutes I contemplated gouging my eyes and ears out to avoid any further observation of what is undoubtedly the worst play I've ever endured.
The plot centres around two Dublin taxi firms, a northside enterprise run by Sheriff Street native Janey Fagan (Cora Fenton) and the market leader on the south side run by daddy's little rich girl Molly Carroll (Wilson).
The two firms go head-to-head, resulting in Janey and her gang hatching a plot to blow up the bridges and cut off their rival's access to the northside and lucrative airport pick-up slots.
The bland storyline might have served as a passable vehicle for a comedy if there was a shred of humour in the script. There isn't.
This play bombards us with north/south stereotypes, endless post-Celtic Tiger references and is devoid of the type of sharp wit that might have saved it from disaster.
As for the bizarre musical interludes where various songs were butchered, words fail me.
Janey was continuously alluded to as an overweight, couch-ridden fast-food addict, born and bred in Sherriff Street, so it came as a remarkable surprise that Cora Fenton boasted a svelte figure with an on-again-off-again limp and an accent that was somewhere between Connemara and Germany.
Wilson was stilted and awkward in her movements. I was desperate not to condemn this farce to a starless review, so I mustered up the will to award one, mainly because Emmet Kirwan as Molly's flamboyant employee Noel McQuaid displayed a flash of style and a talent for comic timing. HIIII