THEATRE: THE LONESOME WEST

The Irish have a way with words; Wilde, Yeats, Joyce and Beckett ranking among their literary luminaries. And now, dwelling in a dirty out-house alongside this hall-of-fame, are Valene and Coleman Connor, who’ve been having a bittine of a blue since they were gazas in a village that the priest laments to be the unofficial, “murder capital of Europe.” Their words are not their own, true, having dripped from the black nib of playwright Martin McDonagh – but these are characters destined to live on beyond their page or stage incarnations. Although this production, driven forth by film director Peter Carstairs, is faultless. Travis Cotton and Toby Schmitz embody the brothers, locked in a battle of vicious snipes over their dead da (shot for insulting a haircut), stolen liquor, skittered tater crisps and lost loves, human or otherwise. The ‘maudlin’ priest played with heartbreaking nuance by Ryan Johnson acts as their moral compass, whose sense of direction is seriously lost. It’s a small endeavour – the scenes rotate around minutiae, the character arcs infinitesimal. But, oh, the cleverness! The characters! All loom large. For a play ostensibly waged in words of hate, it will yield many ardent tributes of love.

Until Sept 13, Belvoir St Downstairs Theatre, 25 Belvoir St, Surry Hills, $23-29, 9699 3444 or belvoir.com.au