Flights review: The sad dispossession of our era in a play that isn’t quite there

Three men gather on the anniversary of their friend's death in One Duck's funny and tragic new play. Photo: Ste Murray 

Project Arts Centre - Cube, Dublin
★ ★ ★

Everyone’s longing for escape in Flights, One Duck’s funny and tragic new play. Dropping out of school and taking up jobs in their teens, dropping out of jobs and taking up drugs in their thirties, it’s as if the country’s been (ahem) grounded during the past 15 years or so. 

Playwright John O’Donovan created a wistful vision of Ennis as a town overlooked by the nation’s fragmented recovery in his play If We Got Some More Cocaine I Could Show You How I Love You. He delves deeper here, in an epic, almost era-defining script that isn’t quite there. 

Three men gather in an abandoned building, drinking cans and playing darts on the anniversary of their friend Liam’s death 17 years ago. Cusack, who has a fondness for likeable mischief and tender embraces, is part family man, part motivational coach, and wholly Conor Madden. It’s the kind of sly performance that’s funny enough to be positive without cringe. “Class!” he says, with warm sincerity, when Colin Campbell’s Barry announces he’s moving to London with his girlfriend. 

Less cheery is Pa, excellently played by a scruffy Rhys Dunlop. Unemployed and snorting cocaine, he ribs his friends for being on the straight and narrow. (“Had to go moving in. Had to go getting houses,” he says). But Dunlop is as bristly as he is in mourning, with Pa grieving not only Liam, but his own future, or lack thereof. Sad and alone, he tells Barry that his girlfriend is having an affair, to stop him leaving for London.

As the plot goes on, there are unhappy betrayals and worrisome disappearances, but, surprisingly, they all go places that don’t have lasting significance. It’s as if the characters are really here to voice the legacy of the Crash. “We should have left,” says Cusack, his wallet emptied by his mortgage. “We’re still here. That shit’s ours,” says Pa, taking pride in being left behind. 

It’s telling that the play is more at home, and the cast give their best performances, during the subplot. Here, Liam’s last days are seen against the heart-aching organ of Peter Power’s music (a reference to Ennis’s monastic past). Zia Bergin-Holly’s miraculous lighting transports the production between a romantic night-time walk and a flashing nightclub. Distrustful of Celtic Tiger promises, Liam forges his own path, his future opening before him.

That makes the play’s tragedy stirring to watch, and puts the dispossession of our current era in focus. But despite director Thomas Martin’s beautiful staging, arranging the three men in affectionate poses, their stories feel unfinished. 


Runs until Feb 8th.