THEATRE / Una Pooka - Tricycle, Kilburn

Robert Hanks
Thursday 09 July 1992 18:02 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

The year is 1979: it's the eve of the Pope's visit to Ireland, and everybody in Dublin has somebody sleeping on their floor. Aidan and Nuala have the whole Kevitt family up from the country - Aidan's pious tyrant of a mother, his malcontented brother Liam, and his reserved sister Una. And then there's his father's cousin, Fr Simeon, a self-effacing, bland monk. Everyone is primed with goodwill in expectation of the Holy Father's arrival; but, predictably, as the evening wears on, masks slip and tensions erupt.

Michael Harding's play comes across as straightforward, expert social comedy - a kind of Irish Catholic Ayckbourn. But it is really something else entirely. Halfway through the first act, there's an abrupt revelation that the action of the play is a flashback - 'now' is actually some time later, and what we're seeing are the events of that night as remembered by Una and Fr Simeon. At the same time, the mood switches into a darker, wilder fantasy - Simeon is not what he seems at all; and nothing that happens is even remotely predictable.

Apart from a baffling denouement, everything about Una Pooka is superb. It's a virtuoso piece, thoroughly unnerving and funny, its intricate time-scheme handled with exhilarating facility by the director, Nicolas Kent, and his excellent cast. In particular, Julia Dearden's sympathetic, steely Una and Roger Allam's magnetic Simeon are outstanding.

Box office: 071-328 1000.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in