There’s a meandering quality to Damian Kearney’s debut play that proves to be both a powerful asset and a frustrating detraction. Kearney, who also performs in this surprising and disturbing story of sibling betrayal, plays Terry Coughlan, a down-and-out charmer with dark streak. Terry leads us along from the shores of a childhood haunt to the threshold of adulthood desire, like an absent-minded tour bus driver on a winding road pointing out the sights at ten kilometers an hour one minute, and 120 the next.

Despite the raucous ups and downs, its clear Kearney is in control at every moment, displaying the panache of a showman while assuming an effectively deceptive vulnerability.  However, the attempt to ladle on an atmosphere of dread through the introduction of the nearly superfluous spectral figure of Notboddy (an appropriately unnerving Helen Norton) seems somewhat redundant. A stricter dramaturgical approach could have left Terry’s actions to speak for themselves, rather than getting sidetracked with the dense and ornate lyricism Notboddy attempts to convey.

In the end though, this is a small price to pay for a genuinely entertaining and compelling evening. Superfluous or not, Norton is a winning performer, and Kearney knocks it out of the park.

Jesse Weaver