The Collector, The New Theatre

There is something about snooker or pool clubs that lend themselves to a more sinister setting, despite the low hanging lights glowing over the green baize tops of the tables. Danial Wade employs this setting in his new, and debut, play The Collector. This club and bar appears to be in the basement, as steps are descended to enter, giving it an underground and underworld quality. It's down these stairs that Oren comes to enter the empty club, motorbike helmet in hand, and on the phone, but as Des, who runs the hall, reminds him, he is barred. But Oren, tough guy that he is, convinces Des to let him play one game with him, and Des relents, letting his nephew stay. 

It turns out not to be a good move, as The Collector of the title, Hugh, comes in with heavy sidekick, Git, a name that does draw a laugh. Oren hides, and they try to convince Des to tell him where Oren is with the help of Git's iron crowbar and a few belts to Des's leg, that sound very loud and look quite painful. After they leave, Joseph enters, and American who lived and taught in Ireland for a while, and got to know Frank, Oren's brother, spending nights in the pool hall. He finds Des in agony, dragging himself along the floor. Thankfully, an ice pack is whipped out and Des will soon be right as rain, standing up for long periods afterwards. 

It is gangland dealings, and money owed but not paid that moves the play forward - without giving too much away, as I feel it would detract from it - and around the real pool table on stage. Director Cian Ó Ceallachain, writer and director of Aisling's Seven and Tingo, lets his cast play pool for real, which is a nice touch, and quite fascinating as well. After all, it introduces a randomness to it. When one doesn't pot a ball the other must take over. This is done quite well, but there were some funny moments, handled very well, when the white was sunk from the break. Not planned, it seemed, but that is part of the fascination with this idea. Although, most of the action is set behind the pool table, and the front side is not utilised as much.

Humour, as you might suspect, is not a big part of the play, although there are a couple of moments that are almost farce, in a good way, including a broken gun. While the overall tone is similar for the main, with a lot of shouting going on to boot. There is one moment when Oren, who doesn't really look directly at the audience, does so, and creates and eerie, yet memorable moment. At other times, it does slip into lecturing mode, but quickly moves beyond it. Des's recounting of the suicide of his son is both harrowing and touching, and undeserving of the platitudes that came before it. His story stands strong on its own and is delivered excellently by Michael Heavey.

There is something in this new work from Wade, a published poet who has written radio plays, and this is his first stage play. But it is not quite there yet. Although, the idea that these are both nasty and vicious people, looking after number one, is obvious. Nor are there any interesting staging moments from Ó Ceallachain, something that was a feature in both Tingo and Aisling's Seven. Some tidying up would work wonders.