Lagan review, Oval House

Lagan is a cat's cradle of small and perfectly formed vignettes from Belfast life. Over an hour, nine narratives delivered by a cast of four wind across and around each other to form a montage of lives tightly bound by religious, political and cultural expectation. It is a study in the contradiction between our internal dialogues and external expressions in a society divided by beliefs and behaviours. A society where pregnant girls go to London for abortions and images of a son being blown up by a bomb, return at the sight of scaffolding.

Creatures from the blue Lagan

Stacey Greggs lyrical script is a joy - words and images and stage directions trip one over the other in a continuous rhythmic flow. Thoughts and anxieties, obsessions and curses skip and skim and test boundaries in a way the speakers cannot. It's poetic.


The narrative is, however, hard to follow. The strong Belfast vernacular needs deconstructing and there are times the story gallops ahead of the audience. Director, Jane Fallowfield's decison to only use physical characteristics to differentiate between characters adds to the problem. It takes a while for individual quirks to be recognisable and it's not always easy to spot when, for example, Anne, the acid-tongued conductor of the brass band has morphed into Fiona, the seductress who's fallen in love.

In conclusion: Lagan is a piece of music to the ear, and beautifully delivered. It requires serious concentration to stay ahead - one lapse and you'll lose your place as it's more telling than showing. Best seen with or after a double espresso.

References
Oval House, tickets
Lyn Gardner review in The Guardian