Diarmuid and Gráinne

Olympia Theatre, Dublin until 30 March 2002.

Based, as the title obviously suggests, on the ancient Irish legend, Passion Machine Theatre Company's modernised (and urbanised) take on 'Diarmuid and Gráinne' certainly makes an explosive entrance. Fionn MacCumhaill, leader of the Fianna, has gone walkabout in the dead of night, leaving his henchmen scampering around desperately trying to locate him.

Fionn is a marked man, and as chief of one of the most feared criminal gangs of the Dublin underworld, his every movement must be guarded. Eventually, he's located safe and sound. But something is bothering the great man, and after some ego-stroking by his aides, he confesses that he misses the company of the fairer sex and that he wants to get hitched again. It must be noted at this stage that Paul Mercier's dialogue is not what you'd expect from the fraternity of ancient times; suffice is to say that the discourse here is more Tarantino than Tuath De Danann.

When it's suggested that he should ask the high King Cormac MacAirt for his daughter Gráinne's hand in marriage, Fionn dismisses the notion as folly of the highest order. MacAirt is already wary of the huge influence wielded by MacCumhaill on organisational matters, and his jealousy and suspicion would hardly abate if Fionn were seen to be trying to move in on the criminal lord's daughter. But his advisors soon convince Fionn that it would be the perfect tactic: if the approach worked the high King wouldn't dare bump off his son-in-law, and in any case, Gráinne is widely considered to be top totty. So when the request to MacAirt to wine and dine Gráinne is granted to Fionn, things are looking peachy. And when she accepts the latter's proposal of marriage, life is even sweeter. But no-one has reckoned with the fecund imagination of the slightly neurotic Gráinne.

Act 1 proceeds with Gráinne drugging Fionn on the wedding night, and forcing his loyal bodyguard Diarmuid to flee with her. It seems Gráinne has fallen in love with Diarmuid from afar, and her decision to accept the marriage proposal was fuelled by her desire to get near to him. So off the duo head west, pursued by a maniacal Fionn, a fearful MacAirt, and a host of smart city criminals and stupid country cops. And it all works, this first act, because of Mercier's clever use of modern cultural allusions which help the plot along at a breakneck pace. The highlight is an amusing collage of TV moments including Jerry Springer and The Weakest Link, and while some references are simply naff (Rohypnol in place of the ancient sleeping potion?), one cannot help being carried along in the novelty of the whole thing.

Unfortunately, things unravel in the second act and the plot simply runs out of steam. Diarmuid's initial objection to the enterprise is supplanted by a growing love for his captor, while an increasing number of psychotic felons step up to carry out the contract on his life. The action now limps from episode to violent episode, while the effervescence of the first act is replaced by a plodding structure and toothless narrative. Mercier ultimately tries to throw too many things into the mix, most of which are de trop, and by the time the curtain falls, the memory of that explosive start has been replaced by the lasting impression of the anodyne amble to the finish.

In the central roles, Emily Nagle gives a suitably fiery performance as Gráinne, making up for Eanna MacLiam's one-dimensional turn as Diarmuid. It's in the ensemble that things really sparkle, with Denis Conway, Pat McGrath and David Pearse (who does a cracking Bono impression) the standouts. Musically, repetition mars an otherwise solid effort from John Dunne, while each character gets the chance to test their singing voices - with varying degrees of success, it must be said. The blackness of the costumes and set is offset by the campness of the light-hearted chorus lines, while the alarming alacrity shown by the actors in the change of characters and situations is certainly commendable.

Ultimately, though, 'Diarmuid and Gráinne' fails to live up to its initial promise. In cinema terms this is more 'A Life Less Ordinary' than 'True Romance'. That says it all, really.

Tom Grealis