Under the Black Rock review – nail-biting Belfast thriller
Northern Ireland’s Troubles are channelled through one dysfunctional family in this terrific edge-of-the-seat thriller. We follow the Ryans, and in particular Niamh (Evanna Lynch), whose father tells her fatalistically: “We are all trapped in this city.” A gigantic rock, representing Belfast’s view of Black Mountain, dangles over their heads like the sword of Damocles. No one here can expect to escape the vortex of sectarian extremism.
Starting in 1979 and taking us beyond the Good Friday agreement, the action revolves around a republican cell that finds and punishes traitors. What are you fighting for, asks one character at the start, and Tim Edge’s play shows us they are each in it not only for the cause but other personal reasons, from family loyalty to revenge.
Edge’s script does not really grapple with the greater politics of the Troubles but is primarily a thriller, and a nail-biting one at that, with razor-sharp, harrowing and darkly funny dialogue. The many plot twists and turns are pulled off immaculately and the family’s melodrama never becomes thudding. The characters have an edge of familiarity and maybe even verge on types, from Niamh’s brutish, bullying father (John Nayagam) and callow brother (Jordan Walker) to the tough-cookie cell leader (Flora Montgomery), and apparently benign old lady (Elizabeth Counsell) and priest (Keith Dunphy). But the performances are so good across the board that they elevate their parts and make us believe in them entirely.
Ben Kavanagh’s production has slick, startling scene changes. A street bombing features the aural backdrop of children playing and then silence as the bomb is detonated. The atmosphere of Ceci Calf’s stage set is that of an interrogation room, while Kavanagh’s sound design resembles a terrible rumble of water.
The scenes of torture are horribly charged with tension as these hardmen and women appear like a ruthless mafia and resemble novelist Lisa McInerney’s ganglanders. Looking back from beyond the Belfast Agreement, Niamh reflects: “Deception, rage, betrayal and all for peace. I never understood it.”
At the Arcola theatre, London, until 25 March
