MICK MCSHANE is roused by a band whose socialism laces every line of every song with commitment and raw passion

Not Now
Finborough Theatre
FROM the outset, where a young man finishes breakfast with an erratic, overdramatic soliloquy from Richard III, you know you are in for something special.
David Ireland’s small gem of a play is set in Belfast and deals with 50 minutes in the lives of Matthew, fresh from his father’s funeral and about to fly to London for an audition at RADA and his painter-decorator uncle, Ray.
The beautifully crafted relationship with Ray offering half remembered, cliched and unwanted advice to his nephew on how to act, culled from gossip, films and DVD box covers is typical, amusing Irish banter yet develops to explore far more profound truths when the conversation on performance slides into identity.

SIMON PARSONS applauds an imaginative and absorbing updating of Strindberg’s classic


