The Weir by Conor McPherson

First published: 1997

First produced: 1997, at the Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, London, England

Type of plot: Comedy

Time of work: The late twentieth century

Locale: Rural northwest Ireland

Principal Characters:

• Jack, a garage owner in his fifties
• Brendan, a farmer and bar owner in his thirties
• Jim, a man who works for Jack, in his forties
• Finbar, a local entrepreneur in his late forties
• Valerie, a woman in her thirties new to town

The Play

The Weir depicts an evening at a small bar located on a farm in rural Ireland where the proprietor, three other local men, and a woman new to the area meet, drink, and tell stories. The banter consists of friendly local talk and gossip that is uneventful in itself, but overall reveals the characters’ isolation and the figurative ghosts that haunt them.

The play opens as Jack, a customer clearly familiar with the bar, comes in and, in the absence of the proprietor, helps himself to a drink. Brendan then enters carrying peat for the fire to warm them on the windy and chilly night, and they chat about their day. The talk is familiar and friendly, about drinking, the weather, whether Brendan will give in to his sisters’ pressure to sell some of the farmland, Jack’s luck at betting on the horses, and to gossip about Finbar. Jack has heard that Finbar sold the Nealon house, which had sat empty for several years, to a young woman from Dublin, and that he would bring her by the bar that night to meet everyone. Jack especially expresses disapproval of Finbar’s showing the woman around. He feels Finbar will make them, two single men, look desperate by comparison. Though their language is full of profanity, it is not aggressive, and even suggests a certain decorum: A married man should not be going around with another woman. Rather, they are two single men to whom the mention of a young woman new to town is particularly interesting.

Jim enters and talks of driving his elderly mother to visit her sister, and he and Jack talk about work they will do the next day. The talk again turns to Finbar and the woman, identified by Jim as nice looking. They speculate about the nature of that relationship, whether Brendan would sell or rent the land for tourists’ caravans, and the beginning of the tourist season. Joking about keeping out the chill, they pour more drinks, and Jack offers cigarettes.

Finbar and Valerie enter, and Finbar introduces Valerie to the men. The men tease Finbar about his financial investments and about the inheritance his father, Big Finbar, left him. Finbar takes this with humor, saying they are jealous that he made his fortune in town, while they “stayed out here on the bog” in the country. Jack jokes that this expansive, somewhat arrogant side of Finbar is the “one [that] comes out at night.” The sexual tension already identified in the single men’s jealousy, though unthreatening, increases as Jack and Brendan especially challenge Finbar’s fitness for Valerie. They identify the old photographs on the wall for Valerie’s sake: the weir; Big Finbar; Brendan’s father, Paddy Byrne; Jack at age seven; and a view of the town of Carrick from the field Brendan says he will not sell. Brendan explains that the scenic part, which is popular with tourists, is associated with the faeries of folklore. Brendan points out a ring of trees, a fort, and the ruins of a once important abbey. They turn to telling old stories about the faery road that runs under the house into which Valerie has moved.

Most of the remainder of the play is made up of the recounting of and responses to five stories that become increasingly serious and personal: the first three, faery or ghost stories told by Jack, Finbar and Jim; the fourth, the story of Valerie’s daughter’s death; and the fifth, Jack’s story about his past. The first story is about mysterious knocking on the door of the Nealon house; the second concerns the apparition of a woman summoned through a Ouija board; and the third tells about the ghost of a dead child molester seeking the grave of his victim. The fourth story, Valerie’s true story of her young daughter’s death by drowning one year earlier, abruptly changes the mood of the group, who express their sympathy and support. After this story, Finbar and Jim leave. The last story is Jack’s, told to Brendan and Valerie, in which he confesses his selfishness toward a woman he once loved and the deep regret and loneliness he has felt ever since. The play ends as they leave the bar and Brendan closes it, joking that maybe they would be willing to visit with the tourists after all, and “stay with the company and the bright lights.”

Dramatic Devices

The play happens in real time, taking about one hundred minutes in performance, and thus the audience essentially is eavesdropping on the characters’ conversation, as though they were customers in the bar. The dialogue is informal, easygoing, comic, and arguably a bit quaint, as some reviewers found the play an exercise in Irish picturesque. It is, however, very realistic, rhythmic, and natural, easily engaging the audience through generally likable if imperfect characters. While much of the dialogue between stories may seem like aimless banter, it provides glimpses of each character’s private thoughts. Since the play is essentially one act without action, the only changes onstage are the characters’ entrances and momentary exits that alter the dynamics between them. For example, Valerie’s visit to the ladies’ room after hearing the third ghost story allows the men to argue, then decide not to tell more stories that might upset or frighten her, thus increasing the tension and irony of their own fear and horror when they later hear Valerie’s story. Like any evening full of storytelling, drink, and lonely characters, the play moves from light comedy to intriguing mystery about what frailties each of the characters is trying to hide, to deeply poignant silences. The final movement of the play occurs when Jack, the most world-weary figure, unveils his own sorrows and, in sharing them with Brendan and Valerie, allows them to drop their masks and speak honestly, gently, and as kindred wandering spirits.

Critical Context

In addition to The Weir, for which he won the 1999 Olivier Award for Best New Play and the 1997 Evening Standard Award for Most Promising New Playwright, McPherson has authored the plays Rum and Vodka (pr. 1992), The Good Thief (pr. 1994), St. Nicholas (pb. 1997), and A Dublin Carol (pb. 1999, pr. 2000). He also adapted This Lime Tree Bower (pb. 1996) as the screenplay Saltwater (2000), and wrote the screenplay I Went Down (1997).

Reviews have been very positive about McPherson as a member of a new generation of Irish dramatists who are arguably less political and more universal than the previous generation. McPherson’s greatest gifts are in characterization and dialogue, and in combining humor, irony, and even tragedy in plays that are poignant and moving. His plays depend less on action than on the engagement and discovery of emotionally complex and isolated people. His works have been extremely well received in London, and especially in American cities with large Irish American communities.

Sources for Further Study

Adam, Michelle. “A Stage for the Irish.” World of Hibernia 6 (Summer, 2000): 70.

Brantley, Ben. “Dark Yarns Casting Light.” New York Times, April 2, 1999, p. E1.

McPherson, Conor. “Late Nights and Proclamations.” American Theatre 16 (April, 1999): 45-46.

Renner, Pamela. “Haunts of the Very Irish.” American Theatre 15 (July/August, 1998): 16-19.

“The Weir Breaks on Broadway.” World of Hibernia 5 (Summer, 1999): 13.