Flawlessly executed footwork is the standout element in this promisingly modern take on Irish traditions
The crowd was already fizzing with anticipation of the good craic promised by the omniscient voice of the narrator (who we sadly never hear from again). Director Brent Pace seeks to bring the traditions of Irish music and dance into the modern theatrical realm with his own brand of highly acclaimed presentation of Irish history.
This show has a dramaturg, although it must be said there is very little drama to… well, turg. It starts out with ancient Irish Vikings, and the best I can follow it leads into the Irish Famine, the Easter Uprisings and into the Good Friday Agreement. Quite heavy hitting topics for a show that is essentially one big ceilidh. Mixed into proceedings are a superb musical trio consisting of the exceptionally talented fiddler Megan McGinley, banjo virtuoso Eamonn O’Sullivan and guitarist Aaron O’Grady (I think- the programme doesn’t actually confirm it’s him). As well as solo vocalist Brian O’Broin, this rounds off the non-stop action. However next to the following scenes being performed to pre-recorded backing tracks with soft club beats, the contrast makes you long for a full live band onstage.
All sixteen dancers are genuinely faultless. Spectacularly skilled, they never put a foot wrong-quite literally, and brought passion, charm and personality to very structured dance pieces. The action skewed more in favour of the male performers whereas the women occasionally felt unjustly tertiary, given the militaristic leanings of the majority of the scenes.
The footwork was so hypnotic it became almost like ASMR; a soft patter like gently rainfall at first and then fervent rhythmic percussion like a thunderstorm. At one point I was convinced sparks were going to ignite with the sheer speed at which the shoes were tapping. A sensational ten-minute solo by Gavin Shevlin had the crowd in a frenzy with some of the most technically difficult choreography I’ve ever seen. I eventually worked out he was portraying the key political figure Mícheál Ó Coileáin whilst in prison, but there’s no context for his importance unless you already knew. Similarly in a segment where the women wore orange vests, I eventually recognised they were representing the Unionists. These were missed opportunities to educate through dance. Unfortunately the performers are let down by almost every other facet of the production, which currently does not quite know what is wants to be.
The projections on the backdrop are either too dark and murky, or completely bleached out of contrast and I could barely read what scant details there were on it. Live footage from the stage (apparently now a theatrical obligation) broadcast onto three vertical panels were pointless or otherwise distracting.
Ultimately, I’m reminded of the scene in the 2025 film Sinners, in which the infamous song “Rocky Road To Dublin” and Irish dancing are used particularly effectively as a plot device at a pivotal point. We know Irish dance can be used as a narrative tool beyond technical showboating. With Éirann, I wanted characters to invest in. Could we follow a child as they learn about Ireland throughout time? Could we follow two best friends, one a Republican and one a Unionist? Is there a hero, a villain, a romance, anything? Irish music and dance is so evocative I can’t help but feel this production has much potential. Currently it is an enjoyable mish mash of loosely historical vignettes trying to avoid political offence, but a little commitment to theme and character development could go a long way to packing the emotional punch it is so clearly capable of making alongside the skill and heart of the dance.