The Weir

John Keating, Dan Butler, Sean Gormley  (Photo: Carol Rosegg)

By Fern Siegel (Posted August 21, 2025)

The latest revival of "The Weir," Conor McPherson's 1997 supernatural play, is now off-Broadway at the Irish Rep Theater. Set in a bar in rural Ireland, it features eerie tales and howling winds. The stories, lubricated with ample amounts of liquor, serve a two-fold purpose: they keep loneliness at bay, while reinforcing the need for community.

Inside, on wooden chairs, beside a small, comforting fire, an alienated troupe of bachelors, a married man and a woman take center stage. So moving is the quiet, intimate drama, laced with humor and grief, that the Irish Rep has presented it no less than four times. 

Jack (Dan Butler), the chatty mechanic, Brendan (Johnny Hopkins), the quiet barkeep, Finbar (Sean Gormley), a businessman, and Jim (John Keating), who attends his “fading fast” Mam, comprise a quirky quartet. All are excellent, but Butler is a standout.

The beauty of The Weir, economically staged by director Ciaran O'Reilly, dives into the ties that bind. In the country’s isolation, sounds and apparitions can seem all too real. It may be the Irish love of whiskey that fires the imagination or the wicked silence of night. But the result is the same: We need connections.

The Weir's strength is its simplicity: The ghost stories the men tell are mesmerizing — even as they blur the line between illusion and reality.

Yet, the most frightening tales are those drawn from real life. When Finbar introduces Valerie (Sarah Street), a Dubliner who rented a house in the area, hers proves the most shattering story of all.

It's in the telling that we reveal who we are.

As Jack reveals his own vulnerabilities, he reminds us that the past is forever present in our hearts. Laughter flows as freely as tears.

O'Reilly is working with a top-notch ensemble. Butler neatly shades Jack's character, his brusque manner can't hide his kindness or pain. "Goodness wears off," he laments. Keating's Jim has both tender and odd moments. He doesn’t always read the social cues, but his type is recognizable. Valerie, sensitively rendered by Street, is the stranger who finds solace when least expected.

Charlie Corcoran’s set design is perfect, even the Bacardi bat symbol placed in a high, prominent place, adds to the spooky quality of the show. Lighting by Michael Gottlieb and sound design by Drew Levy reinforce how the pub acts as a refuge from uncontrollable outside forces.

This revival is funny and heartbreaking. McPherson’s first play underscores the importance of friendship, the power of the past and the enduring appeal of a tale well told.

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